The Weight of Wanting

The library courtyard became a habit.

Three days in a row, Maya walked the path between Helena Hall and the old oak tree. Three days in a row, Idris was already there, waiting.

They didn’t talk about anything important.

The first day, he asked about her major. She told him Software Engineering. He asked why. She said she liked problems with clear solutions. He said, “Must be nice.”

The second day, she asked about architecture. He talked for twenty minutes about light and space and how buildings could make you feel small or safe. She listened more than she spoke. When he finished, he looked at her strangely.

“You actually pay attention,” he said. “Most people just wait for their turn to talk.”

“I am most people.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You’re really not.”

The third day, they sat in silence for almost an hour. Students passed, glanced at them, whispered behind hands. Maya ignored them. Idris seemed to too.

When she stood to leave, he caught her wrist.

“Tomorrow?”

She looked down at his hand. Warm. Careful. Then at his face.

“Why?”

“Because.” He let go. “You’re the only person I don’t have to perform for.”

Maya wanted to tell him that was a lot of pressure. Wanted to tell him she wasn’t equipped to be anyone’s safe place.

Instead, she said, “Same time.”

And walked away before she could change her mind.

Jess noticed everything.

“You’re different,” she said on the fourth night, watching Maya unpack her backpack. “Softer. Like someone turned down the volume on your walls.”

Maya didn’t look up. “That’s poetic.”

“I’m serious.” Jess swung her legs off the bed. “You’ve been meeting him every day. You come back and you don’t talk about it, but I can see it. Something’s changing.”

“Nothing’s changing. We talk. That’s it.”

“Do you talk about me?”

The question caught Maya off guard. She looked up. Jess’s expression was carefully neutral, but her fingers twisted in the blanket.

“What do you mean?”

“Just…” Jess shrugged too casually. “Does he ever mention me? From the debate thing? He said I’d make a good debater. I wondered if he remembered.”

Maya’s chest tightened. She’d been so focused on her own confusion, her own unexpected pull toward Idris, that she’d forgotten.

Jess liked him.

Jess had always liked him.

“He hasn’t mentioned it,” Maya said carefully. “But we don’t really talk about other people. It’s mostly…”

“You.” Jess smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know. I figured.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Maya.” Jess’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending. We’re just…” Maya stopped. What were they? Friends? Almost strangers? Two people hiding in a courtyard because the real world was too much?

“You like him,” Jess said. “And that’s fine. Really.”

“Do you still…”

“Like him?” Jess laughed, but it sounded wrong. “I’ve liked him for two years, Maya. Two years of watching from afar, building him up in my head, imagining some perfect version that probably doesn’t exist. And then you show up, and in three days you get closer to him than I ever have.” She shook her head. “It’s not his fault. Or yours. It’s just… life, I guess.”

Maya didn’t know what to say. She’d never been good at moments like this. Moments that required the right words.

“You’re not losing me,” she finally managed. “If that’s what you’re scared of.”

Jess’s eyes glistened. “I’m not?”

“No.” Maya crossed the small space between their beds and sat beside her. “You’re my friend. My only friend here. That’s not changing.”

“But if something happens with him…”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” Maya hesitated, then reached for Jess’s hand. “Together. Okay?”

Jess stared at their joined hands for a long moment. Then she squeezed.

“Okay.”

The next day, Maya almost didn’t go.

She stood at the window, watching students move across campus, and tried to convince herself to stay. To protect Jess’s feelings. To protect her own walls.

But her feet carried her to the courtyard anyway.

Idris was there. But he wasn’t alone.

A man stood in front of him. Older. Distinguished. Dressed in a suit that looked expensive and uncomfortable. His back was to Maya, but she could see Idris’s face. See the way his jaw tightened. His shoulders curved inward.

She’d never seen him look small before.

“expect better,” the man was saying. “Your mother calls me in tears because she sees the gossip blogs. You think this is a game? You think reputation doesn’t matter?”

“It matters.” Idris’s voice was flat. “I know it matters.”

“Then act like it.” The man stepped closer. “I didn’t build this family so you could throw it away on…”

He stopped. Noticed Maya.

Idris’s eyes met hers. Something flickered in them. Embarrassment. Or warning.

“Who’s this?” the man asked.

“No one.” Idris’s voice was too quick. “Just a classmate.”

The words hit Maya like a slap.

Just a classmate.

She’d known that’s what she was. Known it logically. But hearing it,seeing the way Idris dismissed her to protect whatever image his father demanded,something in her chest cracked.

“I should go,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

She turned before Idris could respond. Walked fast. Then faster. Until she was back in the dorm, back in her room, back behind walls that actually worked.

Jess found her an hour later.

“You’re back early. Everything okay?”

Maya was sitting on her bed. Knees pulled to her chest. Staring at nothing.

“He called me a classmate,” she said quietly.

Jess’s expression shifted. “What?”

“His father was there. He asked who I was. Idris said I was no one. Just a classmate.” Maya laughed, but it came out broken. “Which is true. That’s all I am. That’s all I’ll ever be to anyone.”

“Hey.” Jess sat beside her. “That’s not true.”

“It’s always true. I let myself forget for a few days, but this is how it works. People use you until it’s inconvenient not to, then they throw you away.”

“Is that what happened in high school?”

Maya went still.

Jess’s voice softened. “You mentioned it before. The public humiliation. The boy. I didn’t push because you weren’t ready. But I’m asking now. What happened?”

Maya stared at the wall.

She’d never told anyone the full story. Not her mother, who had enough to carry. Not the counselors who’d tried to pull it out of her. No one.

But Jess was sitting beside her. Warm and present. And Maya was so tired of carrying it alone.

“His name was Tyler,” she said. “We were friends. Or I thought we were. He asked me to the prom—as friends, he said, because we were friends. I believed him.”

Jess didn’t speak. Just waited.

“I spent weeks being excited. Borrowed a dress from my cousin. Let myself imagine that maybe… maybe he saw me differently. Maybe I was wrong about being invisible.”

Her throat tightened.

“The night of prom, he showed up with someone else. Held her hand in front of everyone. And when I asked him what was happening, he laughed. Said I’d actually thought he wanted me? Said it was a joke. A bet with his friends to see if the quiet girl would say yes.”

Jess’s hand found hers.

“They all laughed. Everyone. For weeks after, I heard it in the hallways. The joke that wouldn’t die. And the worst part?” Maya’s voice broke. “The worst part was I’d let myself hope. I’d actually believed someone saw me. And I was wrong.”

Silence.

Then Jess pulled her into a hug so tight Maya couldn’t breathe.

“He’s an idiot,” Jess whispered. “A stupid, cruel idiot who didn’t deserve five minutes of your attention.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” Jess pulled back, eyes fierce. “I know you’re the most real person on this campus. I know you see things other people miss. I know you showed up for me when you didn’t have to. And I know that if Idris Vaughan can’t see what you are, then he’s the one performing. Not you.”

Maya blinked. Her eyes burned.

“What if I’m too scared to try again?” she whispered.

“Then you try scared.” Jess wiped a tear from Maya’s cheek. “That’s what courage is, isn’t it? Being terrified and doing it anyway.”

Maya stared at her friend. This loud, warm, impossible girl who had somehow become the most important person in her new life.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” Jess smiled. “You deserve everything. You just don’t believe it yet.”

That night, Maya’s phone buzzed.

Unknown number. A text.

I’m sorry. That wasn’t what it looked like. Can we talk?.... Idris

Maya stared at the screen.

She thought about his father’s voice. About the way Idris had shrunk in front of him. About the word classmate and everything it represented.

Then she thought about Jess’s words. You try scared.

Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

Finally, she typed: Library courtyard. Tomorrow. 3 PM.

She hit send before she could stop herself.