The hallway is dim now, the apartment quieting down in that slow, gradual way it always does at the end of the day. Gem pads down the hall, the floor cool under her feet. Behind her, she hears the living room couch creak as someone shifts—Grian, maybe. She reaches her door and pushes it open, slipping inside before gently shutting it behind her. Her room is still, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains and painting soft shapes across the walls. Gem drops her bag on the chair by her desk and lets out a breath, rubbing her face with both hands and dragging them down slowly before pushing her hair back. The quiet presses in around her. It isn’t the same kind of quiet as before. It feels… different somehow. Through the wall she can faintly hear Grian again.
“I’m telling you, Etho, if that couch breaks it’s not my fault.”
“You’re the one jumping on it.”
“That is slander.” Gem snorts softly despite herself. She changes into her nightgown, moving slower now that the exhaustion has fully caught up to her. When she finally sits on the edge of her bed, the mattress dips gently under her weight. She pauses there, thinking carefully. The nightmare from the morning flickers through her mind again—the words, the looks, the awful tight feeling in her chest. Gem exhales slowly and her shoulders loosen. Okay, maybe she doesn’t have everything figured out. Maybe she still messes things up sometimes. But today… she didn’t have to handle it by herself. And that makes everything feel lighter. She pulls the blanket up over herself and lies back against the pillow. Pearl’s low murmur drifts through the wall.
Grian’s playful tone answers immediately. “I am going to bed.”
Etho sighs. “…You’re in the kitchen.”
“…Oh.” Gem presses her face into the pillow to hide a quiet laugh. Her eyes grow heavier as the quiet deepens. And when sleep finally pulls her under this time, her chest isn’t tight anymore. For the first time in a while—she sleeps easily.
Gem wakes up the next morning a little earlier than usual. The apartment is unusually quiet. She just lies there staring at the ceiling, letting her brain slowly catch up with the fact that she’s not at “home” anymore. No shouting. No doors slamming. No heavy footsteps pacing outside her room. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of traffic drifting up from the street outside. Her chest rises and falls slowly. Her head doesn’t hurt as much today. That’s… weird. Gem sits up carefully and rubs the sleep from her eyes with the heels of her palms. Her hair sticks up in several directions, and she pushes it back absently before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up. 6:12 AM.
She sits there for another moment, considering crawling back under the blanket. But the quiet presses in a little too much for that. So she gets up anyway. The floor is cool under her feet as she pads out of her room, careful not to make too much noise out of habit more than anything else.
The hallway is dim, soft morning light slipping through the living room windows and stretching long across the floor. Grian’s blanket is still tossed across the couch in a loose pile. One of Etho’s books sits on the coffee table, half-open. Pearl left a dish towel draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Gem stands in the kitchen doorway for a second, just looking at it all. Then she starts cleaning. She begins with the sink.
There are only a few things—a couple glasses, a plate someone forgot to rinse, a pan Pearl left soaking overnight. Gem rolls up the sleeves of her shirt and turns on the tap. The sound of running water fills the quiet apartment. Years of practice guide her hands without much thought. If something’s messy, you fix it. If something’s out of place, you put it back. She dries the last glass and sets it carefully into the cabinet before wiping down the sink.
Then the counters. Lastly, the table. Crumbs disappear under a quick swipe of a cloth. Chairs get pushed neatly into place. The dish towel gets folded instead of draped. Gem moves into the living room next. She folds Grian’s blanket carefully — corners lined up, edges straight—before placing it neatly over the arm of the couch. Etho’s book gets picked up and set into a tidy stack with the others he’s left scattered around the room. She straightens the pillows and adjusts the coffee table. By the time she’s done, the apartment looks… cleaner.
She just stands there, leaning lightly against the counter as the early morning light grows brighter through the windows, warming the edges of the room. It’s… strange. Back home, mornings like this meant waiting for something to go wrong. Gem glances at the clock again. 6:34 AM. She pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and sits down, tucking one foot up under the other as she watches the light slowly spread across the apartment floor. Soon the others will wake up. Grian will probably stumble into the kitchen half-asleep. Pearl will hum while she makes breakfast. Etho will appear with a book already in his hands. The thought makes something small and warm settle in her chest.
Time passes without her noticing. The light through the windows slowly brightens, shifting from pale gray to soft gold. It stretches across the kitchen floor and creeps toward the table legs. The apartment is still quiet. Then — suddenly — a door creaks open down the hall. Heavy footsteps shuffle across the floor. Grian appears in the hallway a moment later, hair sticking up in every direction, one eye half-open while the other refuses to cooperate.
He stumbles into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head.
“…Huh.” Gem blinks at him from the table. Grian squints slowly around the room.
“…Did we get mugged?” he asks groggily. Gem hesitates. “…What?” Grian gestures vaguely at the apartment.
“All our mess is gone.” “Oh,” Gem says quickly. “I just cleaned a little.” Grian stares at her. Then at the counters. Then back at her. “…You did all that before seven in the morning?” Gem shrugs, suddenly very interested in the table.
“I woke up early.” “Wow,” he mutters. “Overachiever.” He drifts over to the fridge and opens it, staring blankly inside. Gem fidgets slightly with the edge of her sleeve.
“…Sorry if I moved anything,” she adds quietly. Grian slowly turns his head toward her. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks. Gem blinks again, clearly caught off guard.
“I— I don’t know,” she says quickly. “I just thought maybe you had things where you wanted them.” Grian closes the fridge. “…Princess.” She looks up. “If I cared where things were,” he says, gesturing lazily around the kitchen, “this place would not look like a mess 90% of the time.” Gem huffs a small breath that might be a laugh. Before she can respond, another door opens down the hall. Pearl walks in a minute later, tying her hair up into a loose ponytail as she enters the kitchen. “Morning—” She flinches mid-step. Her eyes closely inspect the room. The clean counters, the neatly folded blanket on the couch, and the newly cleaned sink. Eventually her gaze lands on Gem.
“You cleaned this all up?” Gem flinches.
“Uh — yeah. I'm sorry if I moved anything.” “What? No — that's a good thing. Don't worry about it, it's fine.” Pearl slowly reassures her, and that may have made her chest feel warm. After a few moments of silence, Gem speaks up.
“So — uh, I wanted to cook breakfast, if that's okay with you guys.” Pearl glances toward her. “You don't have to ask us, you know? You can do whatever you want, Gemmy.” Pearl studies her for a second longer but doesn’t push. Instead she opens a cabinet and pulls out a mug.
“Well,” she says lightly, “next time wake me up and we’ll clean and cook together.” Gem nods quietly. Grian, meanwhile, has collapsed into one of the sofas. He squints at the clock. “Ugh, why does the morning exist.” “Because the world spins,” Pearl replies, and Grian groans. “No shit, Sherlock.” He throws a pillow at Pearl and she immediately catches it. “We've been living together for 17 years, I know your tricks,” Pearl says as Grian sticks out his tongue.
A third set of footsteps appears in the hallway. Etho walks in a moment later with a book already in his hand. He glances up as he reaches the kitchen. His eyes sweep the room once. “…It’s clean,” he says.
“Gem did it,” Grian says, pointing at her without lifting his head from the table. Etho glances toward Gem. Gem suddenly feels very aware of her hands. “Oh,” Etho says simply. He sets his book down on the table and grabs a glass from the cabinet.
“Thank you.” She doesn't know how to react, but it feels nice and warm, so she traps this feeling inside of her. Pearl pours herself coffee while Grian groans dramatically into the table.
“Pearlie, why must you be so tall?” “Ask our parents.” Pearl grabs a carton of eggs and sets it on the counter. “You want to help me make breakfast, right?” Pearl turns towards Gem. She hesitantly nods at that.
“…Yeah,” she says softly. Pearl smiles at that, already reaching for a pan. “Good. Because if I cook alone, Grian will hover and steal ingredients.”
“I do not hover,” Grian protests from the couch.
“You absolutely hover,” Pearl says without even looking at him. Gem pushes herself up from the chair and walks over to the counter. The kitchen suddenly feels smaller with people in it. Pearl slides a cutting board toward her.
“You can crack the eggs if you want.” Gem nods, careful as she picks one up. She taps it gently against the edge of the bowl. Crack. The shell splits cleanly. Pearl hums approvingly. Behind them, Grian drags himself upright just enough to rest his chin on the back of the couch.
“You know,” he says sleepily, “this is the nicest morning we’ve had in weeks.” Gem cracks another egg. Then another. The small, normal rhythm of it settles something in her chest. Across the room, Etho sits down at the table, opening his book again like he never stopped reading in the first place. He flips a page.
“Morning,” he says absently. “Morning,” Pearl replies. Gem glances at him briefly.
“…Morning.” Grian suddenly perks up a little. “Wait,” he says, pointing vaguely toward the kitchen. “Are we actually getting breakfast?” Pearl rolls her eyes. “Yes.”
“Cooked breakfast?” “Yes.” His eyes widen slightly. “Wow. I feel loved.”
“You’re being fed,” Pearl corrects.
“That’s basically the same thing.” Gem lets out a small laugh before she can stop herself. Grian notices immediately.
“Aha!” he says, pointing dramatically at her now. “I heard that. A laugh.” Gem freezes slightly. Pearl elbows him lightly. “Don’t scare her off.” “I’m not scaring her off,” Grian says defensively. “I’m celebrating.” “Quietly celebrate.” Grian lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m celebrating.” Gem huffs another small laugh.
The eggs start to sizzle in the pan as Pearl pours them in, the sound filling the kitchen. The smell of breakfast slowly spreads through the apartment. Gem leans lightly against the counter, watching Pearl stir the eggs.
“I can do that,” Gem says quickly. Pearl slides the bread toward her. Gem places the slices carefully into the toaster. Behind them, Grian has fully migrated into the kitchen now, leaning against the counter.
“Princess,” he says, squinting at Gem.
“You cleaned the entire apartment before sunrise and now you’re making breakfast.” Gem shrugs slightly.
“That’s terrifying,” he says. Pearl flicks a tiny bit of egg at him with the spatula.
“Go sit down before you contaminate the food with your complaining.” Grian sighs dramatically and flops back into a chair beside Etho. Etho doesn’t even look up from his book.
“You’re loud.” The toaster pops. Gem startles slightly before quickly pulling the toast out. Pearl notices the little flinch but doesn’t comment. She just reaches over and lowers the heat on the stove.
“Plates?” Pearl asks. Gem nods and opens the cabinet. The four plates clink softly as she sets them on the counter. It feels weird — helping without needing to be ‘perfect’ all the time. It makes her feel loved. Pearl’s voice snaps her out of her trance — she slides scrambled eggs onto the plates while Gem adds toast beside them. Grian immediately leans forward the moment the plates touch the table.
“Wait,” Pearl says, pointing the spatula at him. “We’re all sitting first.” He groans but waits. Gem sets the last plate down. Pearl sits down, Etho closes his book. Then Grian grabs his fork.
“This,” he declares dramatically, “is the best morning of my life.” “You said that yesterday about fries,” Etho says. “That was also true.” Gem sits down slowly with them. The chair feels warm in the morning light. For a moment she just watches them. Pearl eating calmly. Grian already halfway through his food. Etho flipping his book open again between bites. And the warmth in her chest grows just a little bit stronger.
For a few seconds, the table is quiet except for forks scraping softly against plates. Then Etho reaches for his glass without looking up from his book. He grabs… air. His hand hovers there for a second, confused. Then he slowly lowers the book and looks down. His glass is… not there. Pearl blinks.
“Etho.” He looks at the empty spot on the table.
“…It moved.” Grian immediately snorts. “You moved it,” Pearl says patiently. Etho frowns faintly, scanning the table again. Gem quietly slides the glass toward him from where it had ended up next to her plate. “You pushed it over here earlier,” she says softly. Etho looks at the glass. “…Oh.” He picks it up and takes a sip like nothing happened. Grian leans back in his chair, grinning.
“Wow. Incredible detective work.”
“I was reading,” Etho says calmly.
“You pushed it two inches.”
“It traveled.” Pearl sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Gem presses her lips together to keep from laughing. Etho glances at her over the top of his book.
“…You can laugh,” he says. That makes it worse. Gem snorts quietly into her sleeve. Grian points dramatically across the table. “Another laugh! We’re on a roll today.” Etho quietly slides his book up higher to hide most of his face. But the tips of his ears are a little red. Pearl takes notice.
“You’re hiding behind a book.” “I’m reading.”
“You’re holding it upside down.” Very slowly, he rotates the book the right way. “…It’s a complicated text.” Grian absolutely loses it. Gem buries her face in her hands, laughing quietly now. And Etho just sits there, pretending very hard that none of this is happening.
Gem lowers her hands, still catching her breath. Her cheeks feel warm. She doesn’t remember the last time she laughed like that in front of people. Across the table, Grian is still wheezing.
“I can’t believe—” he gasps, pointing at Etho, “—you tried to read an upside-down book.” Etho turns a page with complete composure.
“It was right side up in spirit.”
“That’s not how books work,” Pearl says flatly. Gem presses her sleeve against her mouth again as another quiet laugh escapes. Grian immediately points at her again.
“There it is! That’s three laughs this morning.”
“Stop counting,” Pearl says, nudging his foot under the table.
“I’m documenting a historical event,” Grian insists. Etho takes another calm bite of eggs.
“You’re jealous because I’m observant.” Etho lowers the book just enough to glance at him. “I am not jealous,” he says. “You absolutely are,” Grian replies, leaning back in his chair with far too much confidence for someone who’s already eaten half his breakfast.
“You didn’t even notice the laughing— I did!”
“That’s because you narrate everything out loud,” Pearl mutters, sipping her coffee. Gem watches the exchange quietly, fork paused halfway to her mouth. The conversation bounces around the table easily. Grian, of course it was Grian — suddenly looks back at her again, eyes narrowing slightly in exaggerated suspicion.
“You’re suspiciously quiet, Princess.” Gem blinks.
“That’s exactly what someone hiding something would say.” Pearl lightly kicks his shin under the table.
“Let her eat,” Pearl says.
“I am letting her eat,” Grian protests.
“I’m also interrogating.”
“Also true.” Across the table, Etho flips another page in his book, speaking without looking up.
“She’s quiet because you keep pointing at her.” Grian slowly lowers his finger.
“…That’s fair.” Gem finally relaxes enough to take another bite of toast. The eggs are warm and soft, and the butter on the toast has melted into the bread. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until now.
For a little while, the conversation settles again. Grian talks about a professor who gave a three-hour lecture about staircases. Pearl argues that staircases are important in architecture. Grian insists that no staircase needs three hours of explanation. Etho listens with one ear while reading. The sunlight has grown brighter now, filling the kitchen with a soft golden glow. It catches on the edge of Pearl’s mug and glints faintly off the forks on the table. Gem finishes the last bite of toast and rests her chin lightly on her hand. For a moment, she forgets to be tense. Then a chair scrapes back suddenly. Grian stands up.
“Alright,” he announces. Pearl looks up.
“What.” He gestures around the table dramatically.
“This is officially the nicest morning we’ve had in weeks.”
“You said that earlier,” Etho says.
“Yes, but now I’m making it official.”
“You’re not an authority.”
“I am an authority on vibes.” Pearl groans. “Please never say that again.” Gem snorts quietly into her sleeve. Grian gasps.
“Oh my god,” Pearl mutters. “I’m keeping count!”
“Stop keeping count!” But Grian just grins, completely pleased with himself. Gem shakes her head slightly, still smiling as she gathers her plate.
“I’ll wash these,” she says softly. Pearl immediately reaches over and gently stops the plate before Gem can pick it up.
“We all clean,” Pearl says. Gem hesitates.
“And we appreciate it,” Pearl interrupts gently. “But you’re not the maid.” Grian nods from across the table.
“You made that up,” Etho says.
“Maybe.” Pearl stands up and starts collecting plates.
“Everyone helps. That’s the rule.” Gem slowly releases her grip on the plate. The familiar reflex to just do everything herself is still there, tugging at her a little. But Pearl is already carrying dishes to the sink, and Grian has lazily grabbed the glasses. Etho closes his book with a quiet thump and stands up too.
“I’ll dry.” Gem watches them move around the kitchen. Pearl glances back at her.
“You can rinse if you want.” Gem nods after a second.
“…Okay.” She steps over to the sink, turning the water on again. The warm stream runs over the plates as Pearl passes them over one by one. Behind them, Grian bumps into Etho while trying to reach the dish towel.
“That’s not my fault.” Pearl sighs. Gem laughs quietly again — this time, Grian doesn’t count it. The warm water runs over Gem’s hands as she rinses another plate, soap bubbles slipping down the drain. Pearl passes her dishes one by one while Etho stands beside them with a towel, drying each plate carefully before stacking it. Behind them, Grian is supposed to be putting the glasses away. Instead, he’s leaning against the counter, watching everyone like he’s observing a documentary. Pearl notices first. “…Grian.” “Hmm?”
“That is what supervising is.” Pearl flicks a small droplet of water at him.
“Go.” Grian sighs like he’s been given the hardest job in the world and finally shuffles toward the cabinet. He opens it, squints at the inside for a second, then slowly places a glass inside. Gem glances over at him. “You’re being dramatic.” He immediately points at her. “You laughed again.”
“That doesn’t count,” Pearl says. “Every laugh counts.”
“It does not.” Etho slides another plate into the cabinet without looking up. “You’re loud.” Grian gasps softly. “You wound me.” “No,” Etho replies calmly. “You’re just loud.”
Gem rinses the last fork and sets it on the counter so Etho can dry it. For a moment she just stands there, hands resting lightly on the edge of the sink. They surprisingly had a productive day so far, she hopes that it’ll continue throughout the day. Pearl bumps her shoulder lightly.
“You okay?” Gem blinks, realizing she’d spaced out for a second.
“I’m okay.” Pearl nods and goes back to wiping the counter. Grian finally finishes putting the glasses away and stretches his arms above his head with a groan.
“Alright,” he says. “What’s the plan for today?” Pearl shrugs.
“I have class at ten.” Grian immediately groans louder.
“Why do you say that like it’s a normal time to go to class.”
“You also have class at ten.” “That is deeply unfortunate.” Etho dries his hands and folds the dish towel neatly.
“I have class at eleven.”
“Show-off,” Grian mutters. Gem leans lightly against the counter again, listening to them argue about schedules and professors and assignments. Grian suddenly looks at her again.
“What about you, Princess?” Gem blinks. “…Me?” “Yeah. What’s your plan today?” She hesitates for a second, thinking.
“…I might study a little,” she says slowly. “And maybe go for a walk later.” Pearl nods approvingly. “That sounds nice.” Grian squints at her. “A walk?”
“Voluntarily?” Gem huffs a quiet laugh.
“Some people like fresh air.”
“That sounds fake.” Pearl nudges him aside with her hip so she can reach the coffee maker again. “Ignore him.”
“I feel ignored already,” Grian says dramatically. Etho picks his book back up from the table.
“You talk too much to be ignored.”
“Wow.” Gem watches the three of them for a moment — Pearl moving around the kitchen with ease, Grian dramatically flopping back onto the couch, Etho already halfway back into his book. For the first time in a long time, mornings don’t feel like something she has to survive — they feel like something she gets to be part of. Grian lands on the couch with a dramatic flop, one arm hanging over the back like gravity has personally offended him.
“I still think class at ten is cruel,” he declares to the ceiling. Pearl rinses her mug and sets it on the drying rack.
“You’ve had that class for 2 days so far.”
“And it’s been cruel every time.” Across the room, Etho flips another page in his book.
“It is exactly the point.” Gem leans against the counter, watching them. The apartment feels brighter now, sunlight spilling fully through the windows and pooling across the floorboards. The quiet from earlier has been replaced with soft movement and the low hum of conversation. Pearl dries her hands on a towel and glances toward Gem again.
“You said you were studying today?” Gem nods.
“Yeah. I’ve got a quiz later this week.”
“Want the table after we leave?” Pearl asks.
“Better lighting there.” Gem blinks slightly.
“Oh — sure. Thank you.” Grian tilts his head over the back of the couch to look at her upside down.
“Studying already? It’s barely morning.”
“I like getting it done early,” Gem says.
“That sounds fake,” he repeats. Pearl tosses a dish towel at his face.
“I’m not bullying, I’m questioning her choices.”
“You’re lazy,” Etho says. Grian sits up just enough to point accusingly at him. “I am efficient!”
“That was a tactical decision.” Gem hides another quiet smile behind her sleeve. Pearl notices and gives her a small grin before turning to grab her bag from the chair near the door.
“I should get ready,” she says.
“If I’m late again my professor might actually lock the door.”
“That would make me happy,” Grian says. “That would be terrible,” Pearl corrects. Etho finally closes his book with a soft thump and stands, stretching slightly. “I should go too.”
“You don’t even have class for another hour,” Grian says.
“I like being early.” Grian stares at him.
“You two are weird.” Pearl swings her bag over her shoulder and nudges Gem lightly as she passes.
“Table’s yours once we’re gone.” Gem nods again, a little shy but clearly grateful. “Okay.” Grian watches this exchange with narrowed eyes.
“…Are you two forming an alliance?” Pearl doesn’t even turn around. “Yes.”
“Rude.” Etho walks past him toward the hallway. “You’re loud.”
“You’re dramatic.” Gem laughs quietly again. Grian perks up immediately.
“Do not start,” Pearl warns without turning around. He sighs but doesn’t argue further. A few minutes later the apartment shifts into that small morning rush — Pearl grabbing her shoes by the door, Etho slipping his book into his bag, Grian still sitting on the couch. Pearl pauses before leaving and looks back at Gem.
“Text if you need anything, okay?” Gem nods.
“I will.” Etho gives a small nod toward her too. “See you later.”
“See you.” The door closes behind them a moment later. For the first time since she woke up, the apartment falls quiet again. Gem moves over to the table Pearl mentioned and pulls out one of the chairs. Her notebook slides onto the surface, followed by a pen and her phone. Across the room, Grian finally drags himself upright with a groan.
“…I guess I should go to class.” Gem glances up. “You guess?”
“If I don’t, Pearl will text me threats.”
“That sounds reasonable.” He pauses halfway to the hallway and squints at her.
“…You’re funny when you’re comfortable.” Gem freezes slightly. Then she shrugs, a little embarrassed.
“Maybe.” Grian grabs his bag from the chair by the door. “Well,” he says, pointing at her with mock seriousness, “don’t burn the apartment down while we’re gone.”
“And don’t study too hard.” “That’s not how studying works.”
“Worth a try.” He opens the door, then pauses. “See you later, Princess.”
“See you.” The door clicks shut behind him. Gem sits there for a moment, listening to the quiet apartment and the faint sounds of the city outside the windows. Then she opens her notebook. Sunlight stretches across the table, warming the paper under her hands. Gem doesn’t notice how much time passes while she studies.
The apartment stays quiet after everyone leaves, sunlight slowly crawling across the table as the morning turns into late morning. By the time she packs up her notebook and checks the time again, it’s already later than she thought. She grabs her bag, slips on her shoes, and heads out.
The lecture hall is already half full when Gem arrives. Students sit scattered across the rows—some talking, some scrolling through their phones, others already buried in notes. The air hums with that low, restless energy classrooms always seem to have before a lecture begins. Gem slips into a seat near the middle and pulls out her notebook, the desk cold under her arms as she sets everything down. For a few minutes the room fills with quiet chatter. Then the door at the front opens. Her professor walks in and sets a stack of papers on the desk. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands once.
“Settle down.” The room gradually quiets. Gem straightens slightly in her seat.
“I’ve been looking over your last assignments,” he continues, flipping through the papers,
“and I’ve decided we’re going to try something a little different for the next project.” A few students groan immediately. He ignores them.
“You’ll be working in groups.” More groans ripple through the room. Someone in the back mutters,
“Oh no.” Gem’s stomach tightens a little. The professor continues, clearly used to the reaction. “And before anyone asks—no, you will not be choosing your own groups.” That earns several louder complaints. He raises a hand.
“Because if I let you choose, you’d all cluster with the same people every time.” He looks up, scanning the room. “So instead, I’ve mixed the groups intentionally. Each group has a mix of stronger and weaker students. I want people helping each other—explaining lab interpretation, actually collaborating instead of dividing the work and disappearing.” Gem feels something twist faintly in her chest. She knows how this usually goes.
The professor picks up a paper. “Your assignment is to analyze a diagnostic case study.” The projector flickers on behind him and a slide appears showing a chart of blood test results.
“Each group will receive a patient file. Symptoms, lab results, and microscopy images.” Another slide appears—a stained sample under a microscope. “Your job,” he continues,
“is to determine the most likely diagnosis using laboratory data. You will also explain which lab tests were used, why they were performed, and how the results support your diagnosis.”
He folds his arms. “Welcome to being a Medical Technologist.” Some students groan again while Gem quietly writes everything down. The professor glances back at the list in his hand.
“Alright. I’ll start reading them.” The room quiets again. “Group one…” Names are called and students shuffle around the room, moving chairs and whispering to each other. Gem listens carefully. “Group four…” More names. Then—“Group seven.” Gem sits up slightly.
“Gem Taylor.” Her name always feels louder when a teacher says it. She raises her hand a little so the professor can see she’s there. “Good,” he says, glancing back at the list. “With—Lucas Carter.” A guy near the window groans quietly.
“Ava Dela Cruz.” A girl a few rows behind Gem mutters, “Seriously?” “And Noah Park.” Someone farther back sighs dramatically. “Alright,” the professor says, gesturing vaguely around the room. “Groups, move together. You’ve got fifteen minutes to start discussing the project.”
Chairs scrape across the floor as people start shifting around. A tall guy with messy dark hair drops into the seat beside Gem. He glances at her notebook, then at her.
“You’re the one who got the highest score on the last lab report, right?” Gem blinks. “…I think so.” “Lucas,” he says, tapping the desk lightly. “Nice to meet you.” Another girl slides into the chair across from them, dropping her bag on the desk with a heavy thud. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sighs.
“Ava,” she says flatly. “And I hate group projects.” The third group member sits down last, leaning back in his chair like he’s already given up. He offers a lazy wave. “Noah.” He glances at the worksheet the professor passed out. “Well,” he says slowly, “if she got the highest score…” He gestures toward Gem. “…that means we automatically pass.” Gem stares at them for a second before slowly pulling the worksheet closer. “…We still have to analyze the lab results,” she says quietly. Ava groans softly.
“Yeah, yeah.” Lucas leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk.
“So what’s the case?” Gem flips the page toward them. “Patient has persistent fever, fatigue, and swollen lymph nodes,” she reads softly. Noah whistles.
“That sounds bad.” Gem points to the chart. “Blood results too.” Lucas leans closer. “…Wait.” He squints at the numbers. “Why are the white blood cells that high?” Gem traces the line with her pen. “That’s what we have to figure out.” Ava drops her forehead onto the desk. “Sana ‘di na ko nag medtech, tangina.”
Gem quietly pulls her notebook closer and starts writing. “We could divide it,” she says. Lucas glances at the page. “…You’re already planning everything.” Gem pauses. “…Is that okay?” “Yeah,” he says quickly. “No, that’s good.” She writes carefully. “Someone researches the disease possibilities…” “Okay,” Lucas says. Gem looks up. “I’ll do that part.” Ava raises an eyebrow. Lucas shrugs. “I can Google diseases.” “That’s a very inspiring work ethic.” "Work ethic?"
Gem looks between them. “…Are you sure?”
“You can’t do all of it.” Gem quickly shakes her head.
“I wasn’t going to.” He glances at the page again.
“You kind of were.” Ava snorts.
“Getting clocked in the big 2026.” Gem fiddles with the edge of her notebook.
“I just like planning.” Lucas nods. “It’s not a bad thing.” He taps the first bullet point. “I’ll research possible diagnoses and the lab tests used.” Gem writes his name beside it.
“Ava could do the presentation slides.” Ava sighs dramatically.
“Fine. But if they look ugly, that’s not my fault.” Noah straightens slightly.
“So what do I do?” Gem glances down again.
“You could explain the final diagnosis and how the lab results support it.” He shrugs.
“Sure.” Lucas leans back in his chair again. “So basically,” he says, “Gem organizes the lab results, I research the disease, Ava makes slides, Noah explains the diagnosis.” Gem slowly writes everyone’s names next to the sections. Lucas taps the desk lightly. “When do you want the research done?” Gem looks up, surprised.
“…Whenever works for you.” He shakes his head.
“No, like an actual deadline.” “Oh.” She thinks for a moment. “…Two days?” “Okay.” He pulls out his phone. Gem watches him. “You’re… setting a reminder?” “Yeah.” Ava laughs. “Oh my god, he’s serious.” Lucas glances up. “Relax. I said I’d help.” Gem’s shoulders loosen just a little.
Noah stretches his arms behind his head.
“Well, if we’re actually doing work…” he says, glancing toward the professor.
“…Are we allowed to leave yet?” The professor is still talking with another group at the front of the room. Ava zips her bag halfway. “I’m leaving the second he dismisses us.” Gem closes her notebook carefully, the edges of the pages aligned neatly as she slides it into her bag. Lucas glances at the page one last time before she shuts it. “
You’re really organized.” Gem shrugs slightly.
“I like knowing what’s happening.”
“Fair.” He leans back in his chair again, stretching his legs out under the desk. After a second he adds,
“Don’t worry though.” Gem looks up. Lucas gestures lightly toward the notebook she just put away.
“You’re not doing this alone.” Gem hadn’t realized how much she expected to until he said it. Something warm flickers in her chest. “…Thanks,” she says quietly. Ava looks between them, raising an eyebrow. “…Are we actually going to take this seriously?” Noah snorts. “Don’t jinx it.” For the first time since the professor announced the project, Gem feels like maybe—just maybe—this group might actually work, and maybe she wouldn’t have to carry the burden alone.
A few minutes later the professor claps his hands again from the front of the room. “Alright, that’s enough planning for today. I expect updates next class.” Chairs scrape across the floor as students begin packing up. Ava is the first to sling her bag over her shoulder. “I’m leaving before he changes his mind,” she mutters. Lucas stands too, stretching slightly.
“I’ll send the research in the group chat.” Gem blinks.
“Right.” He pulls out his phone.
“Numbers.” Ava sighs dramatically but rattles hers off anyway. Noah lazily taps his into Lucas’s phone. When Lucas looks at Gem, she hesitates for half a second before giving hers too. “Cool,” Lucas says. “I’ll make it.” A second later Gem’s phone buzzes.
Noah: Hehe we are suffering together now.
Gem stares at the screen for a moment before typing carefully.
Gem: I can share the assignment instructions if you want.
A few seconds pass before Lucas replies.
Gem opens the case file their professor sent earlier and drops it into the chat.
Gem: We need to analyze the patient symptoms and lab results, she types, then determine the diagnosis based on the blood work and microscopy slides.
Noah replies almost immediately.
Noah: wow we are doing actual hospital stuff.
Gem pauses before correcting him.
Gem: Laboratory diagnostics. Lucas reacts with another thumbs up.
Ava: im just making the slides im not diagnosing anyone. Gem lets out a quiet breath that might be a laugh.
Outside the lecture hall, the campus air is warmer than she expected. Students move around the pathways in small groups, voices overlapping with the distant hum of traffic. Gem adjusts the strap of her bag as she walks toward the exit gates. Her phone buzzes again. This time it’s a different chat.
Pearlie: Did the project thing go okay?
Gem smiles slightly and types back.
Gem: Yeah. I think it will. Three dots appear immediately.
Pearlie: See? Group projects aren't always evil.
Gem hesitates before replying.
Gem: I usually end up doing most of them.
The typing bubble pauses for a moment before Pearl responds again.
Pearlie: Not this time :p
Gem doesn’t know why that message makes her happy, but it does. She slips her phone back into her pocket and keeps walking, the warmth of it lingering quietly in her chest. Gem walks slowly across campus, the sun higher now, casting long, gentle shadows along the paths. She tucks her hands into her bag straps, letting the warmth of the morning settle over her. Her thoughts wander back to the apartment — how the sunlight had spilled across the table, how Grian had teased, how Pearl had nudged her and smiled. Even Etho, quiet as ever, had made her feel seen.
She feels a faint tug in her chest, a mixture of gratitude and relief. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like she has to carry everything herself. It’s a small thing, but it lingers like sunlight on skin.
Gem pulls it out. Another message from Pearl.
Pearlie: Don’t forget to eat lunch!
Gem smiles softly, typing back.
She slips the phone back into her pocket and adjusts her pace, walking a little slower now.
Her bag bounces lightly against her side as she heads toward the library, thinking about the project. Lucas’s message pops into her mind “You’re not doing this alone.” She clenches her notebook a little tighter, letting that thought settle. She doesn’t have to be perfect. She doesn’t have to solve everything herself. Not today. Not when people are willing to share the weight.
Inside the library, it’s quiet, cool, and still. Gem finds a table by the window and slides her notebook open. The sunlight falls across the pages, warm but not harsh. She traces the lines of the lab results carefully, noting patterns, questions, and possibilities. Even without speaking to her group yet, she feels a rhythm starting to form in her mind. A rhythm of planning, collaboration, and trust.
For a moment, she just sits there, watching the dust motes float in the sunlight, thinking about the morning she’d had— the laughter, the teasing, the simple presence of people who cared. And for the first time in a long while, she lets herself breathe fully, feeling lighter than she has in years.
Her phone buzzes again. Another message from Lucas.
Lucas: Got your notes. This looks solid.
Gem smiles quietly to herself. She types back a simple reply.
Campus feels bigger somehow, not intimidating. The noises of students chatting, shoes scuffing across pavement, and the distant call of a bird perched somewhere on a lamppost — all of it blends into a calm rhythm Gem hasn’t noticed before. She takes a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs fully, and lets her gaze wander over the familiar paths, over the library and the lecture halls she’s walked past countless times. Today, though, it feels different. Her phone buzzes again. She glances down.
Grian: I see you, don’t get lost in the crowd, Princess.
Gem chuckles quietly. She types back,
Gem slips her phone back into her pocket and continues walking, the corners of her mouth still lifted slightly. It’s strange how a single message can make the world feel a little bit better.
Gem stays in the library long after most of the afternoon crowd has filtered out. The sunlight that once stretched across the table has shifted, now falling low through the tall windows and turning the edges of her notebook a soft gold. Around her, the quiet hum of the building continues—pages turning somewhere in the distance, the soft click of keyboards, the occasional whisper between students working together. Gem barely notices. Her notebook is open, filled with careful notes about the case study; numbers, arrows, and small annotations in the margins. She taps her pen lightly against the page, eyes moving between the lab results and the printed patient symptoms. Persistent fever, fatigue, swollen lymph nodes, elevated white blood cell count. She circles the numbers again, thinking. Across the table, her laptop screen shows an article about possible infections that match the symptoms, and she reads line by line, lips moving silently as she processes the information.
Time slips by without her realizing. The sunlight fades slowly into the dull gray-blue of early evening, and one by one other students pack up and leave. Chairs scrape quietly, backpacks zip, voices disappear down the hallway. Gem stays. She flips to a new page in her notebook and writes down a few more possibilities for the diagnosis. Her handwriting is still neat, but a little slower now. Her phone buzzes on the table and she glances at it.
Lucas: found some stuff about viral causes too. sending later.
She sets the phone down and keeps working. Another hour passes. The library lights click brighter overhead as the outside light fades completely. A librarian wheels a cart of returned books past her table. Gem barely registers it. She’s halfway through rereading the blood test chart again when someone suddenly drops into the chair across from her, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor.
Gem startles, her pen jerking across the page as she looks up.
“…Grian?” Grian leans back in the chair like he belongs there, arms folded behind his head.
“There you are,” he says. Gem blinks at him.
“You left your location on,” he replies casually, pointing at her phone.
“Pearl was worried you’d accidentally move into the library permanently.” Gem glances around the room and only then realizes most of the tables nearby are empty now.
“…I didn’t notice the time.”
“Clearly.” Grian leans forward, peering at the mountain of notes in front of her.
“…Are those the same papers from this morning?” Gem hesitates. “…Maybe.” He looks unimpressed. “Gem.” “I’m almost done organizing the lab data.”
“And Lucas is researching possible diagnoses, so if I prepare the—” “
Gem.” She stops talking. Grian rests his chin on his hand and studies her. “You’ve been here for hours, haven’t you?” Gem fidgets with her pen. “…Maybe.”
“Pearl made dinner.” Gem blinks. “…She did?” “Yeah.” Grian nods. “And she specifically told me to drag you home if you tried to study again.”
Gem looks down at her notebook. “I still need to finish this section.” Grian reaches forward and gently pushes the notebook closed. Gem freezes. “…Grian.”
“But the lab interpretation—”
“The presentation outline—”
“Gem.” His voice softens a little. “You’re allowed to stop.” She hesitates, fingers resting on the edge of the notebook. “…Just for tonight?” Grian shrugs. “Sure. Tomorrow you can go back to terrifying your group with how organized you are.”
A quiet laugh escapes her before she can stop it, and the tension in her shoulders loosens slightly. “…Okay.” “Good.” Grian stands and watches as Gem slowly gathers her things, sliding her notebook and laptop into her bag. When she lifts the strap to put it over her shoulder, he reaches out first. “Give me that.” Gem pauses. “…What?”
“Your bag.” He holds out his hand expectantly. “Grian, it’s not that heavy.”
“Did I ask?” he replies, already taking the strap from her before she can protest. He slings it over his own shoulder. Gem stares at him for a moment. “…You don’t have to do that.” Grian shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, I do.”
They walk out of the library together, the building quiet behind them as the doors close. The evening air is cool, and campus lights glow softly along the pathways. For a while they just walk in comfortable silence, Grian carrying both his bag and hers without a second thought. After a minute he glances sideways at her.
After a few minutes of walking, Grian glances sideways at Gem, adjusting the strap of her bag on his shoulder. “You know,” he says casually, “I think I saw one of your classmates earlier.” Gem looks up from the pavement. “…My classmate?”
“The tall one,” Grian continues. “Messy hair. Looked like he was trying to remember where he’d seen me before.”
Gem frowns slightly as she thinks. “Lucas?” “Yeah,” Grian says, snapping his fingers once. “I think that’s the one.” They walk for a few seconds in comfortable silence, the evening campus quieter now as most students head home. A few pass by in small groups, their voices fading as they move further down the path. Then Grian suddenly slows. “…Wait.” Gem looks up at him. “Does he come to the bakery near the campus gate?” Grian asks. Gem blinks. “…Maybe? I don’t know. I just met him today.”
Grian stops walking for a second, squinting at the air like he’s trying to drag a memory out of it.
“…Wait.” Gem pauses beside him. “He orders iced coffee,” Grian says slowly, pointing a finger like he’s piecing together a mystery. “Extra sugar. And he always sits by the window with his laptop.” Gem tilts her head slightly. “…You remember that?” “He comes in a lot,” Grian replies with a shrug. “Hard not to notice the guy who stays for three hours and forgets his drink is getting warm.” Gem considers that quietly. “…That might be him,” she admits. Grian nods once, satisfied. “Yeah. Coffee guy.” Gem huffs a small breath of laughter. They keep walking, the soft glow of campus lights stretching across the pavement ahead of them. “He looked at me earlier like he was trying to figure out where he knew me from,” Grian continues. “I guess that’s why.”
Gem glances up at him. “…Do you talk to him?” “Not really,” Grian says. “Mostly he just orders coffee and stares at his laptop all day.” “That also sounds like him.” Grian snorts quietly. They cross the street toward the apartment building, the sound of distant traffic humming in the background. After a moment Grian glances down at her again. “So that’s your groupmate now?” Gem nods. “Yeah.” “…Is he going to make you do all the work?” Gem pauses for a second, thinking about the conversation earlier. “No,” she says softly. “He said he’d help.” Grian nods once, like he’s filing that information away. “Good.” They reach the apartment entrance. Grian pulls the door open with one hand, still carrying both bags. Gem steps inside first. “…Thanks for coming to get me,” she says quietly. Grian shrugs. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t accidentally become a permanent library resident.” Gem smiles faintly as they head up the stairs together. They climb the stairs together, the hallway lights dim and warm compared to the bright campus outside. The apartment is quiet when they step inside, the kind of quiet that settles in after a long day. Grian drops Gem’s bag gently onto the table before kicking his shoes off by the door. “Home,” he announces dramatically, stretching his arms like he’s just returned from a long journey. Gem slips her own shoes off, the tension in her shoulders easing now that she’s inside. The familiar space feels softer after the long day—the couch slightly rumpled from earlier, the faint smell of something sweet lingering in the air from the bakery boxes Pearl sometimes brings home. From the kitchen, Pearl peeks around the corner. “Oh good, you found her.” Gem blinks. “…Found me?” Grian points at her like he’s presenting evidence. “Library goblin.” Pearl laughs, stepping fully into the room with a mug in her hands. “You were studying again, weren’t you?”
Gem rubs the back of her neck a little. “…Maybe.” “You were gone for like five hours,” Pearl says.
Gem hadn’t realized it had been that long.
From the couch, Etho glances up briefly from the book he’s been reading. His eyes flick to Gem for a second, quietly checking that she’s okay, before he returns to the page. Grian drops into the couch beside him with a dramatic groan. “I had to physically retrieve her.” “You’re exaggerating,” Gem mutters. “Am I?” Grian gestures toward her bag on the table. “Girl was preparing to live there.” Pearl walks over and nudges Gem lightly with her elbow. “Did you at least eat?” Gem hesitates. Pearl squints. “…Gem.”
“I had coffee.” “That does not count,” Pearl says immediately. Grian lifts his head from the couch cushion. “See? I told you.”
Gem sighs quietly but she can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll eat,” she promises.
Pearl nods approvingly and heads back toward the kitchen. “Good. I made extra pasta.”
Gem moves to sit at the small table while Pearl sets a bowl in front of her. The warmth of the food seeps into her hands as she picks up the fork. Across the room, Grian is half-sprawled across the couch, talking to Etho about something involving a bakery customer who tried to order six different pastries “just to taste test.” Etho responds with the occasional quiet comment, his voice low and calm. The apartment feels alive in that soft, comfortable way it always does in the evening.
Gem takes a bite of the pasta, warmth spreading through her chest. Her phone buzzes lightly on the table, and she glances down.
Lucas: Found two possible diagnoses already
Noah: bro its been like 2 hours
Ava: that’s not how motivation works
Gem smiles faintly and types carefully.
Gem: I can look at the lab results again tonight.
Lucas: You should sleep actually
Noah: yeah team leader go rest
Ava: wow we’re being responsible adults today apparently
Gem lets out a quiet laugh under her breath. Across the room, Grian glances over. “What?” “Nothing,” Gem says softly.
She sets her phone down and continues eating while the quiet chatter of the apartment fills the room around her. For the first time in a long time, the day doesn’t feel heavy when it ends. It just feels… full. Gem leans back slightly in her chair, listening to Grian’s exaggerated storytelling, Pearl clinking dishes in the kitchen, and the soft rustle of Etho turning a page. Her notebook sits closed in her bag. The project can wait until tomorrow.