Distance Measured in Glances
The next morning at Ardenvale Academy, the sky hung low and gray. Freen walked through the gates earlier than most students, enjoying the quiet before the day began. The school felt calmer before the rush, almost like it belonged to her for a moment.
She was sitting alone near the hallway when Nam appeared with a croissant in one hand and a sleepy smile. “You look like you’ve been up all night arguing with your textbooks.”
Freen let out a small laugh. “Three hours of sleep. And the textbooks won.”
“Well, lucky for you,” Nam said, breaking off a piece of croissant and handing it to her, “you’ve got me now. I specialize in rescuing new students from academic doom.”
********************
In Math class, Nam slid a folded note across the desk while the teacher spoke at the front.
If I fall asleep and drool on my notebook, pretend you don’t know me. –Nam.
Freen bit back a smile. It was the first time school felt a little lighter.
A few rows ahead, Becky sat perfectly still, head bent as she took notes in smooth, clean strokes. She never glanced up, never looked distracted. She didn’t seem bothered by anything around her.
Freen looked away quickly.
********************************
Between classes, a student ambassador stopped them near the stairwell. “We’re one person short for Gardening Club. Would either of you join?”
Nam blinked. “Do I look like I touch dirt?”
“You won’t have to,” the girl said. “It’s mostly planning events now.”
Nam turned to Freen. “I mean… if it gets us out of cleaning duty.”
Freen shrugged. “Why not.”
“You’re already blending in,” Nam said with a teasing grin. “Soon you’ll be in student council at this rate.”
***************************
The afternoon passed quietly. In their last class, Freen and Nam shared a seat near the back, whispering about weekend plans. Freen started to feel like things were settling—like maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.
But as they turned the corner near the lockers, her shoulder brushed someone else's. She looked up.
Becky.
“Watch it,” Becky said softly, her tone calm, not sharp.
Then she walked away without looking back.
Freen stood still, unsure what had just happened. Becky’s voice had been steady—neither cold nor warm. But it lingered.
Nam noticed. “Was that—did she just speak to you?”
“Kind of.”
“Well,” Nam said with a laugh, “congrats. That’s more attention than she gives anyone else. You're officially cursed.”
Freen didn’t respond.
Something about that brief moment stayed with her, longer than it should have.
************************
Freen followed Nam into the Gardening Club’s outdoor area, tucked behind the school’s west wing. It was quiet—just a few benches, planters, and a shed with supplies. The trees overhead filtered the afternoon sun, casting soft shadows over the garden beds.
Nam groaned dramatically. “We’re really doing this. Dirt and all.”
Before Freen could respond, her eyes caught movement by the far bench.
Becky.
She was seated with a notebook, hair neatly tied back, flipping through a folder without looking up. Of course she was here. Organized. Composed. Like everything about her had been scheduled in advance.
Freen froze for a second, unsure where to sit. Nam noticed and grinned.
“Oh, don’t tell me Little Miss Ice Queen is in this club too.”
Becky didn’t look up. “If you’re not here to contribute, you can leave.”
Her voice was cool, but not rude. Controlled, as always.
Nam scoffed. “Relax. We’re new recruits. I brought moral support. Freen brought the actual interest.”
Becky finally lifted her gaze—straight at Freen.
“You’re interested in gardening?”
Freen blinked. “I like the quiet. That counts, right?”
For a second, Becky’s lips curved—barely. But it was there.
“The back planter needs weeding,” she said, gesturing.
Nam raised her hands. “Nope. You two bond over soil. I’ll supervise from this shady spot.”
Freen hesitated, then stepped toward the planter. Becky followed.
They crouched side by side, hands brushing lightly over leaves. Not speaking. Not yet.
After a moment, Becky glanced sideways. “You’re not like the others.”
Freen looked up. “Others?”
“The ones who try too hard,” Becky said, eyes back on the plants. “Or pretend they don’t care when they do.”
Freen didn’t know what to say. So she just nodded. “Neither are you.”
Becky’s hand paused for a second—but only a second. “You don’t know me.”
“Maybe not,” Freen said, her voice soft. “But I notice things.”
Their eyes met briefly. Then Becky stood, brushing off her skirt. “Club ends at five.”
And just like that, she walked away, leaving Freen with dirt under her nails and a strange, restless feeling in her chest.
Nam appeared at her side with a sly grin. “So… what exactly did I just witness?”
Freen stood slowly, not answering.
But her silence said everything.
**********************************
The black car pulled up to the gated driveway just as the sun began to set behind the trees. Becky stepped out, adjusting her uniform blazer, her face blank as usual.
The mansion stood quiet and tall. Grand pillars. Polished floors. Not a flower out of place. Inside, the air smelled like expensive wax and fresh linen, cold despite the warmth outside.
“Welcome home, Ms. Rebecca,” the housekeeper said with a soft bow.
She nodded once and headed straight to her room, footsteps echoing.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Becky exhaled—long and tired—like she’d been holding her breath all day. She kicked off her loafers and placed her schoolbag neatly on the desk. Everything in her room had its place. Minimal. Clean. Controlled.
Her phone buzzed. A message from her father.
"Report card by next week. Make sure you're at the top. No excuses".
She didn’t reply. She never did. He never waited for answers anyway.
She walked to the mirror, loosened her tie, and stared at her reflection. Sharp uniform lines. Blank expression. A routine she knew too well.
Becky turned away, climbed into bed, and let the silence settle around her. She went to sleep—quiet, composed, and unknowingly waiting for what tomorrow might bring.
********************************
Across town, in a much humbler home, Freen stood in the small kitchen, helping her mother dry the dishes.
“You okay,ลูกสาว ?” Mama Nun asked gently, watching her daughter with knowing eyes.
Freen nodded. “Just tired. School’s... intense.”
Her mother smiled softly. “You’ve been through worse. Tomorrow’s another day. One step at a time, hm?”
Freen gave a small smile, hugged her mom briefly, then headed to her room.
As she lay in bed, her thoughts flickered—not to textbooks or clubs, but to a pair of sharp eyes and a quiet moment in the garden.
She didn’t know what it meant yet.
But still, she went to sleep—waiting for what lay ahead the next day.