The first bell rang, sharp and intrusive, but the seat next to Josh remained cold. He kept glancing at the door, expecting Karen to burst in with her usual whirlwind energy, complaining about a broken alarm or a slow bus.
But ten minutes passed. Then an hour.
"Hey, Erika," Josh whispered, leaning across the aisle during second period. "Have you heard from Karen? She’s not answering her texts."
Erika shook her head, her eyes rimmed with red from her own recent heartbreak. "Nothing. She didn't even show up for our morning coffee. It’s not like her, Josh. Even when she’s sick, she sends a meme about dying."
By lunch, the silence from Karen’s phone felt like a roar. Josh couldn't sit still. He skipped his afternoon classes—a first for him—and ran to her house. He pounded on the door, but only the neighbor’s cat greeted him. He went to the flower garden, the rooftop, the library. Every place that held a piece of their history was empty.
The Overheard Truth
Frantic and breathless, Josh found himself near the school gates again, about to head toward the train station when he saw Hanna and Mary, two girls from Karen’s class, huddled near the bike racks.
"I saw her last night," Hanna was saying, her voice low. "She looked awful. She was heading toward the manga cafe by the station. I think she was crying."
Josh didn't stay to hear the rest. He sprinted.
The manga cafe was a dim, neon-lit sanctuary for the lonely and the tired. Josh walked past rows of private cubicles, his heart hammering against his ribs. Finally, at the very back, in booth 42, he found her.
Karen was curled up in a corner of the small padded room, surrounded by unread volumes of a shojo manga. She looked small—smaller than he had ever seen her.
"Karen," he breathed, sliding the door open.
She looked up, her eyes puffy and her usual fire completely extinguished. "Josh? How did you..."
"I looked everywhere," he said, dropping to the floor beside her. He didn't make a joke. He didn't act snarky. "What happened? Your mom is worried sick. I was worried sick."
The Fear of Change
Karen pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "I saw her, Josh. My mom. She was with a man. They looked... close."
Josh listened as the words spilled out—how Karen had confronted her mother, how she found out they were dating seriously, and how they were even talking about marriage.
"I hate it," Karen whispered, a single tear tracking through the dust on her cheek. "I like things the way they are. Just me and Mom. If he moves in, everything changes. The house won't be the same. The memories of Dad... they’ll get buried. I don't want a new family. I just want my family."
Josh realized then that Karen’s "snark" and her "bossy" nature were just her way of keeping her world under control. Now, that world was shifting, and she felt like she was falling.
"Karen, look at me," Josh said, taking her hand. It was cold, and he squeezed it tight. "I get it. Change is terrifying. But your mom being happy doesn't mean she’s forgetting the past. And it doesn't mean you’re losing her."
"You don't know that," she sobbed.
"I know this," Josh said firmly, leaning in until their foreheads almost touched. "No matter who moves into that house, and no matter how much things change, I’m still here. I’m the neighbor who annoys you. I’m the guy who eats your cake. I’m your companion, Karen. I’m not going anywhere. Just like two years ago... I’ll be there when you need me."
Karen looked at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. She found only a steady, unwavering heat. She leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder, and finally let the rest of the tears fall.
"I need you," she whispered into his shirt. "Please don't change, Josh."
"I won't," he promised, resting his chin on her head. "I promise."
The Reconciliation
The next day, the school felt right again. Karen walked through the gates, her head held high, though her eyes were still a bit tired. She had gone home, talked to her mother until three in the morning, and while she wasn't "happy" about the new man yet, she had agreed to try.
Mark and Erika, watching from the balcony above the courtyard, exchanged a knowing look.
"They're basically radiating 'we like each other' vibes," Mark noted, crossing his arms. "But they’re both too stubborn to say it."
"Christmas Eve is coming up," Erika said, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "I think they need a little push. A 'set-up' at the infirmary should do the trick."
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.