Chapter 3 The New Student
That day, the classroom felt quieter than usual. The morning air permeated the large windows, carrying the scent of rain that had lingered since last night. Sunlight faintly reflected off the empty canvases propped against the walls.
Aveline stood in front of the whiteboard, trying to focus on the day’s lesson. The exploration of emotion through color. Ironic, she thought. She hadn't understood what "color" was for weeks.
The students began to arrive, some busy preparing brushes and paint, others chatting softly. But her mind kept returning to the young man who had introduced himself this morning with a calm voice and an inexplicable gaze.
Ezra. The name alone echoed in her mind.
She looked at the attendance list on her desk. Sure enough, Ezra Julian, was listed as an Art major student. But in the two years she had taught at the campus, Aveline had never once seen him. How could someone with such a powerful gaze escape her notice?
Aveline raised her face and looked at the young man. He was sitting in the corner, wearing the simple black jacket she saw at the funeral, a sketchbook in his hands. He wasn't attention-grabbing, yet he radiated something that made Aveline curious. There was something about the way he stared. Calm, yet calculating, like someone who always knew who was watching him.
His gaze was not like that of a typical student. There was no nervousness or awkwardness. There was only calmness... and a too-deep sense of knowing.
Throughout the lesson, Aveline tried to focus. She talked about colors and the emotional meaning behind every stroke. Yet, whenever her eyes met Ezra's, her thoughts scattered. There was something there. Not just attraction, but something heavier. As if the boy carried a burden too great for his age.
When the class ended, most students quickly left, leaving the smell of paint and hurried footsteps in the corridor. Aveline began tidying her desk, but a soft voice from behind stopped her movement.
"Miss Aveline?" Ezra stood there, the sketchbook in his hand, his face half-shadowed by the afternoon light.
"Yes, what is it?" Aveline asked carefully.
The young man hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to say... I am sorry for your loss."
Aveline looked at him, surprised. "You know? Oh, right. News certainly travels fast."
Ezra looked down, his fingers touching the edge of the book. "The news has indeed spread on campus. But that's not the reason. I just... understand how it feels."
Silence fell over the room for a moment. Aveline stared at the young face in front of her, searching for something to hold on to. But all she saw were a pair of dark eyes full of strange depth, as if hiding a thousand unsaid things.
"I've lost someone too, Miss," Ezra said softly, almost a whisper. "The wound doesn't heal, it just changes shape."
Those words fell between them like shards of glass. Aveline froze. The sentence was simple, yet it penetrated deeper than any sympathy she had ever heard.
"Changes shape..." she murmured, almost involuntarily.
Ezra looked at her, then offered a faint smile. "Yes. Sometimes the wound turns into something else. Sometimes... it becomes the only thing that keeps us alive."
Aveline didn't know what to say. For a moment, the room seemed to spin. That sentence scratched something inside her. The same place where Liam's memory still lived. But before she could respond, Ezra closed his book and walked away.
His footsteps left a subtle echo on the wooden floor. Aveline stood silently at her desk, feeling something strange. A curiosity mixed with fear.
All afternoon, Ezra's words kept spinning in her head.
"The wound doesn't heal, it just changes shape."
She tried to focus on her work, but the sentence was like a shadow clinging to the wall of her mind.
That afternoon, Aveline knocked on the administration office door. A female staff member looked up from behind her desk. "Oh, Miss Aveline! Can I help you?"
Aveline tried to offer a polite smile. "I just want to verify something about one of my students. His name is Ezra Julian."
The woman looked at the computer screen, typing for a moment. "Ezra Julian... yes, here he is. Student, Fine Arts major."
"I haven't seen him often in previous classes," Aveline said cautiously. "Has he just returned?"
The staff member nodded slowly. "That's right. Ezra took a leave of absence for almost two full years for personal reasons. He just became active again this semester."
"Personal reasons?" Aveline repeated, trying to sound casual.
The woman looked at her hesitantly, then slightly lowered her gaze. "We don't know much, Miss. But from what I heard... there was a very serious incident. One of the lecturers here suddenly passed away. Before you started teaching here. After that, he filed for a leave of absence."
Aveline tensed. "Passed away?"
"Yes," the woman replied softly. "The case was never really clear. But... there was gossip linking Ezra to it."
Silence enveloped the room. Aveline stared at the file in the staff member's hand, but her mind had drifted far away.
The young man, who stared at her at the funeral, who spoke of wounds that change shape.
Now, she knew the circulating rumor. About death. About loss. About someone who seemed to always stand close to death.
Dusk descended upon the sky as Aveline stepped out of the building. The sky was a purplish-orange, beautiful yet suffocating. She looked towards the parking lot, and there, beneath a maple tree whose leaves were beginning to fall, Ezra stood, staring at the same sky.
Aveline didn't know what made her stop walking. Perhaps curiosity, perhaps something darker than that. But as the evening wind blew, carrying the scent of rain and paint dust, Aveline knew one thing. Her life, which had been slowly fading... had just been touched by something dangerous.
Ezra turned, as if sensing he was being watched. Their gazes met from a distance. Calm, yet deep and unreadable.
And for the first time since Liam died, Aveline's heart was beating faster than usual.