Almost
Amanda couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this aware of another person.
Angela was everywhere—in the steady thrum of her thoughts, in the background noise of her days. A glance across the hallway, a quick brush of hands when passing papers, a laugh echoing down the stairwell. It was all her.
Amanda didn't know how she was supposed to keep pretending like nothing had changed.
Because something had.
Something was still changing.
It was Friday, and the building was already half-empty by the time Amanda dropped by Angela’s office after her last class. Angela was leaning back in her chair, scrolling lazily through her laptop, Spork snoozing under the desk.
Angela looked up when Amanda stepped in and smiled so easily it made Amanda’s chest ache.
"Hey," Angela said, closing her laptop. "You’re alive."
Amanda leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to look casual. "Barely."
Angela laughed and stood, stretching with a groan. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Celebrating your survival," Angela said. "Coffee run. My treat."
Amanda hesitated—not because she didn’t want to go, but because part of her knew that every second spent around Angela made it harder to keep everything bottled up.
She went anyway.
The coffee shop was a few blocks away, tucked between a bookstore and a florist. They sat outside under a faded green umbrella, sipping iced coffees and sharing a stale brownie.
Amanda watched Angela talk about Spork's latest mischief, about a student who’d turned their life around, about her weekend plans to clean her closet.
Amanda listened.
And she watched.
And she wanted to say it.
Wanted to tell Angela that somewhere between late-night grading sessions and early morning coffees, she’d started feeling more like herself again.
And that it terrified her.
And that she loved it.
She opened her mouth, the words trembling there, but when Angela caught her gaze and smiled—that big, bright, steady smile—Amanda lost her nerve.
Instead, she said, "You’re… really good at this."
Angela quirked an eyebrow. "At coffee drinking? I know. I’m practically a professional."
Amanda laughed, shaking her head. "At… at making people feel okay."
Angela’s teasing faded into something gentler.
"Only the ones who matter," she said softly.
Amanda’s breath caught.
She didn’t say anything more.
Neither did Angela.
They just sat there, sunlight spilling over them, something unnamed stretching between them.
Almost something.
Almost everything.