Cracks in the Armor
The following Monday, Amanda found herself standing in the hallway outside the faculty lounge, staring blankly at a bulletin board announcing "Spirit Week!" in large, aggressively cheerful letters. Students bustled past her, trailing the scent of cheap perfume and cafeteria tater tots.
She was fine. She was functioning. She was back to her routine.
And yet, the world felt slightly off-kilter, like a painting that had been rehung just slightly crooked.
"Morning, superstar," came a voice from behind her.
Amanda turned to find Angela balancing a precarious stack of papers and a coffee cup in one hand, an apple tucked into the crook of her elbow.
Angela’s grin was bright enough to force a small, reluctant smile from Amanda.
"Morning," Amanda managed.
Angela peered at her for a moment—really looked at her—and Amanda had the absurd feeling of being seen all the way down to the cracks she thought she’d hidden.
"Walk with me?" Angela asked casually.
Amanda hesitated, then nodded.
They wandered down the hall, Angela chattering about a freshman who had tried to claim that "the dog ate my Chromebook" was a valid excuse for a late assignment. Amanda listened, letting the words wash over her without needing to respond.
It was strange—and strangely comforting—the way Angela didn’t press. She didn’t ask about H. She didn’t ask if Amanda was okay.
She just… walked beside her.
When they reached the fork where Amanda’s classroom branched off, Angela shifted her stack of papers to one arm and offered Amanda the apple.
"For bravery," she said with a wink.
Amanda accepted it, the cool weight of it grounding her more than it should have.
"Thanks," she said, voice catching slightly.
Angela bumped her shoulder lightly against Amanda’s. "Anytime, Lehan-Canto. You know where to find me."
And then she was off, disappearing down the hallway in a flurry of papers and coffee steam.
Amanda stood there for a long moment, staring at the apple in her hand.
It was ridiculous. Stupid.
But for the first time that morning, she didn't feel quite so alone.