Amaris' POV
The soft rustle of fabric accompanied me as I fastened the final button of my blouse. Lavender, with a scalloped collar and delicate pearl trim—it matched perfectly with the dark violet suspender skirt hanging neatly from my waist. I adjusted the straps, smoothed the pleats, then reached for my white tights. They slid on easily, followed by my violet patent Mary Janes, polished to a high shine. The final effect was subtle but coordinated, modest but elegant.
I stepped out of my room and found one of the estate maids standing dutifully beside a small lacquered jewelry box. She opened it without a word, revealing a lovely selection of necklaces and brooches. "For today, Miss Amaris," she offered gently.
I looked at them briefly, smiled, and gave a small bow. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I believe I shall refrain today. Thank you very much."
The maid returned the smile and bowed slightly in return. With that, I headed down the polished wooden staircase, the soft click of my shoes echoing faintly through the wide hallways. The morning light filtered in through the large windows, golden and warm, brushing everything it touched with a gentle glow.
As I entered the dining hall, I gave a polite, "Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother."
They greeted me in kind, both seated and already sipping their tea. My father's newspaper was folded neatly beside him, while my mother, ever composed, was dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, as it often was. Soft clinking of silverware and occasional conversation about business or social engagements filled the space. I took small bites of my breakfast, savoring the warm rice and grilled salmon, when my father cleared his throat lightly.
"Amaris," he said in his gentle but firm tone.
I looked up, setting my utensils down with care. "Yes, Father?"
He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "That phone you asked about. It'll be arriving next week."
I nearly gasped, straightening in my seat. "Truly? Thank you so very much!"
I had long since grown tired of the keypad interface of my old phone. It felt like writing with a chisel on stone—endearing in theory, exhausting in practice.
"You're very welcome, dear," my father chuckled.
Then came the question I feared.
"Have you made any friends at school yet?" my mother asked with mild curiosity.
I choked.
Quite literally. On a piece of pickled vegetable.
A mortifying noise escaped me as I reached for my glass of water. The maid was at my side in an instant, gracefully handing me another.
"I-I apologize. Thank you," I said after I had regained my composure, breathing in shallow gasps.
My parents both looked alarmed, worry etched across their refined features.
"I… I have made friends," I said finally, my voice regaining its smoothness. "So please don't worry."
That was not entirely a lie. Kira Ford had spoken to me. On multiple occasions, in fact. That was a friendship, wasn't it?
My mother's eyes softened and she reached across the table to pat my hand. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm just glad you're adjusting."
I nodded gently and returned to my meal. But in truth, I wasn't sure I was adjusting. I had overheard some students whispering that I was "too polite" and "creepy formal." My confidence had withered somewhat since then. Still, I was not in a rush. If there was one thing I had learned since reincarnating, it was that time offered more chances than we often expected.
Then my father said, "Why don't you take the day off?"
I blinked. "Pardon?"
"I mean it," he said, smiling brightly. "Stay home today. Relax."
"No," my mother interrupted firmly, giving him a look that could slice steel. "She will not."
My father shrank back, nodding with mock defeat. "Of course. I was just… excited for—"
'For what?' I thought silently, glancing between them.
My mother's expression softened. "We have a little surprise planned for you later, dear. But you'll see."
That was all she would say. I knew better than to push. "Understood," I replied with a small bow of my head.
After finishing breakfast, I dabbed at my lips with a napkin and stood. "Please excuse me. I'll be heading to school now."
"Have a good day, dear," my father said, lifting his tea.
"Do take care, my dear," my mother added.
The car ride was quiet, save for the soft instrumental music playing from the stereo. I stared out the window, watching cherry blossoms drift lazily in the spring air. My thoughts wandered, mostly to the strange but pleasant conversations I'd been having with Kira lately.
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When I arrived at school, I passed a few students who offered casual greetings. I returned each with a polite, "Good morning," and a soft smile. The whispers didn't follow me this time, which was a small relief.
I entered the Science classroom early and made my way to my usual seat by the window. The sunlight poured in warmly, and I took out the small novel I had brought—something about a time traveler who kept accidentally altering small moments in history. How ironic.
I had only made it through a few pages when I heard a voice.
"Hey."
I looked up and there she was—Kira Ford, in the flesh. Her blonde hair shimmered faintly in the sunlight, and her usual calm but confident demeanor made her stand out even in a quiet room.
I smiled, folding the page in my book. "Good morning, Miss Ford."
She chuckled lightly. "You can drop the 'Miss,' you know."
"Understood," I said, though it would likely happen again.
She lingered beside my seat and I stood up quickly. "Would you like to sit here? My seatmate is often late. So you need not worry."
Her eyes lit up. "Thanks. I'll join you for now."
We talked casually—mostly about recent music releases, and I was surprised to find we shared several favorite artists. Her knowledge of the local indie scene was impressive. The bell rang all too soon, and she stood.
"I'll head back to my seat," she said. "But let's keep chatting later, yeah?"
"Of course. I would be delighted."
As she returned to her place, I caught myself watching her. It was strange. Ever since that day at Hayley's Cyberspace, Kira had approached me often. She wasn't obligated to. I had no special status. I was… just me.
Still, it was nice to be noticed.
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After classes ended, I gathered my things quickly and made my way out of the room, hoping to slip past unnoticed. But fate, as always, was rarely that merciful.
Standing outside the classroom were Kira, Conner, Ethan… and Dr. Oliver.
My eyes widened slightly. 'No, no, no. I couldn't handle that just yet.' I began to retreat when Kira turned and our eyes locked. My smile froze.
She waved. I waved back, panic blooming in my chest.
"Hey, Amaris!" she called, walking toward me.
'No, Miss Ford, please don't… Please return to your group… please…'
But my mouth, the traitor that it was, replied, "Yes?"
"Are you free later?" she asked, smiling.
I hesitated, but the words came on their own. "I.. am, yes."
"Sweet. You know Hayley's Cyberspace, right?"
I nodded.
"Wanna hang out? My treat."
Half of me screamed yes. The other half wanted to politely vanish.
"I would be honored," I said with a bow of my head.
====================================
Hayley's Cyberspace was comfortably lit and buzzing with quiet energy. Kira and I sat at a small booth near the back. She asked what I wanted, and I gave a modest answer—just a sandwich and tea. She smiled and ordered the same.
As we waited, we continued our talk about music. It was as if a river had finally found its course—we spoke easily, comfortably. I didn't feel the need to overthink.
That is, until Conner and Ethan appeared.
Conner offered his hand, grinning. "Conner, Conner McKnight."
I reached out slowly. "It's nice to meet you…?"
But then, Ethan swatted his hand and smiled. "Ignore him. I'm Ethan."
"Amaris Shin," I said, slowly taking my hand back and bowing slightly.
Before I could ask why they were introducing themselves, Conner cut in. "Yeah, we know. You're the new student, right?"
I nodded slowly. 'What is happening?'
Kira cleared her throat. "Boys. The ladies are chatting. Go play something."
Conner and Ethan laughed and moved to the game station after waving. I waved back, more confused than ever.
I looked at Kira, tilting my head slightly. She sighed.
"You're that type, huh?"
I blinked. "Pardon? What type?"
She shook her head with a smirk. "Never mind. Let's keep talking."
I nodded, smiling faintly. Whatever this was becoming… it was not so bad.
Maybe, just maybe—I had made a real friend.