I’ve always hated the word “new.” New school, new country, new start—none of it ever felt like a fresh beginning. It was just another chance for people to remind me how out of place I am.

I’m short, chubby, and painfully aware of it. It doesn’t help that everyone here seems to look like they’ve stepped out of some flawless Instagram filter. The girls in my class giggle behind my back, whispering loud enough for me to hear. “She’s like a little marshmallow,” one of them said yesterday. They all laughed. I laughed, too, but not because it was funny. It was because it hurt less than crying.

Then there’s her. The first time I saw her, it felt like time stopped. I don’t know her name yet, but she’s in most of my classes. Tall, lean, with smooth skin that glows under the classroom lights and a face so beautiful it feels like a dream. Her hair falls in these perfect waves that she always tucks behind her ear, and she walks with this effortless grace, like she owns every room she steps into.

I shouldn’t look at her for too long—it feels wrong, somehow. But I can’t help it. She’s everything I’m not, and yet, I don’t feel jealous. I feel… drawn to her. It’s stupid, I know. She probably doesn’t even know I exist, and if she does, I’m just the short, chubby girl everyone picks on.

Today, I thought she caught me staring. My heart nearly stopped when her eyes flicked toward mine for a split second. Did she notice? Did she think it was weird?

But then, during lunch, something happened. I was sitting alone in my usual corner of the cafeteria when I heard her voice. "Hey, can I sit here?"

I froze. She was holding her tray, looking directly at me. Her lips curved into the faintest smile.

I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was nod, my hands shaking as I moved my things aside.

Why would someone like her want to sit with someone like me? Is this a joke? Is she here to mock me like the others?

Or is it something else?

For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of something I thought I’d lost fore