The Seat That Cost Her Everything
I was born with a heart that beats to a broken rhythm. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Its a fancy way of saying my heart muscle is too thick, too tired, and prone to giving out if I push it too hard. Weekly check-ups at the hospital are just part of my routine.
Harper has been there for every single one of them. We grew up side by side, our lives tangled together like headphones left in a pocket.
We were on the light rail, heading back from the city after my appointment. It was rush hour, bodies packed tight, the air stale and humid. Harper spotted the last empty seatright next to where she was standingand signaled for me to take it.
I was about to sit, my legs aching from the long day, when I felt a tentative tug on my sleeve.
"Leo... Im feeling really lightheaded," a soft voice whispered.
It was Silas, the new transfer student. He looked at me with wide, doe-eyed innocence, one hand clutching his chest, the other trembling slightly.
"Do you think... maybe I could have the priority seat? My anemia is acting up."
I almost laughed. The performance was flawless. It was so thick with artificial sweetness it could rot your teeth.
I didn't have the energy for games. I started to shut him down, polite but firm.
"Sorry, man, I actually need to"
"Leo, just let him have it," Harper cut in. Her voice wasn't asking; it was deciding.
I froze.
"I know your heart acts up if you stand too long," she said, her tone dismissive, "but I've fought for seats for you a thousand times. You can handle standing this once."
I stared at her. The betrayal wasn't in the action; it was in the logic.
Like a well-trained dog, I stepped back and gave up the seat. Silas sat down with a grateful, shy smile that didn't reach his eyes.
It wasn't until the third time that week Harper bailed on walking to school with meonly for me to find out shed already left with himthat the reality settled in.
When I finally confronted her, she rolled her eyes. "Leo, seriously? It was just a seat on the train. Is it worth holding a grudge?"
I bit the inside of my lip until I tasted iron.
"You're right," I said, my voice quiet. "It was just a seat. So why couldn't I have it?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Harper blinked, stunned into silence.
1
She had no answer. She wasn't used to me pushing back. For years, I had been the soft one, the one who needed protection. Using her own logic against her short-circuited her defenses.
It took her a solid minute to find her voice, and when she did, it was laced with defensiveness.
"What is with this attitude? Silas wasn't feeling well. You know that."
I didn't have the energy to argue. I turned and walked up the stairs.
"Leo!" she yelled after me, her voice pitching up. "Are you seriously going to freeze me out over something so petty?"
I didn't look back.
That was the beginning of the Cold War. I started avoiding her in the hallways, walking to class alone, eating lunch in the library. She didn't chase me. The tether that had connected us since kindergarten had gone slack.
Then came Monday. AP English. The teacher announced group projects.
Before the sentence was even finished, Harper was flanked by her two best friends, Maya and Tess. Usually, I was the automatic fourth.
I was gathering my books, waiting for the signal.
I looked up to see Silas standing at Harper's desk. He was blushing, looking down at his shoes, the picture of humility.
"Hey, Harper... I know I'm new and I don't really know anyone yet... do you guys have room for one more?"
Maya and Tess immediately started cooing. "Oh, absolutely! We can't leave the new guy hanging."
Harper looked pleased. She didn't even glance my way. Her voice dropped into that gentle register she used to use for me.
"Of course, Silas. You're with us."
I stood there, my textbook hovering halfway into my bag. It was as if I had turned invisible. They had forgotten that their "Core Four" actually had four people.
Once Silas sat down, he seemed to suddenly "notice" me standing there. He covered his mouth, eyes widening in mock horror.
"Oh no... did I take Leo's spot? I'm so sorry! I didn't realize..." He looked at Harper, frantic. "Maybe Leo should take it. I can work alone. I'm not great at English anyway, I don't want to drag you guys down..."
Before I could speak, Harper shot me a look of pure annoyance.
"Leo, your grades are perfect. You can handle a project on your own. Silas actually needs the help."
Suddenly, the whole thing felt incredibly cheap.
I shoved my book into my bag, stood up, and walked to the back of the room without a word.
The rest of the class had paired up. The only people left were the "burnouts"the kids who slept in class or were too stoned to care.
I pulled up a chair next to them.
"We're a team," I said. "Let's get this done."
2
Since the grouping incident, the atmosphere in the classroom had shifted. It was subtle, but I felt it.
My new team was a disaster on paper. One guy slept through lectures, another was addicted to reading fantasy novels on his phone, and the third wanted to help but couldn't write a coherent sentence to save his life.
I took charge. I broke the project down into microscopic tasks. You, look up these three dates. You, format the citations. You, just print the photos. I dragged them, kicking and screaming, toward a passing grade.
It was exhausting. More exhausting than doing it alone. I had to monitor my heart rate constantly, breathing through the frustration. Deep breath. Don't spike. Don't spiral.
Harper's group, on the other hand, was having a blast.
Silas didn't know anything, but he knew how to ask. During breaks, hed lean over Harpers shoulder, pointing at a page, whispering questions in that breathy voice of his. Harper was endlessly patient, explaining the same concept three times over. Her friends giggled and teased them.
I ignored the noise. I focused on rewriting my group's barely legible notes.
The tension peaked during P.E.
Because of my condition, I sat out during high-intensity days. I usually did homework on the bleachers.
Coincidentally, Silas sat out that week too. Anemia again.
So, it was just the two of us on the concrete steps, overlooking the track. He scooted closer, invading my personal space.
"Leo," he said, hugging his knees and looking at me sideways. "Are you still mad at me?"
I kept reading.
"I know Harper cares about you a lot. You guys have history... Im just jealous, honestly. I don't have anyone here. Shes been so nice to me, I just wanted to be close to her."
His eyes started to water on command. "Am I causing problems for you guys?"
Before I could figure out how to respond to that level of manipulation, the halftime whistle blew for the basketball scrimmage.
Harper jogged over, wiping sweat from her forehead, holding two water bottles. The sunlight caught her hair, making her look like a golden retriever in human formeager, bright, loyal.
She stopped in front of us, cracked the seal on one bottle, and handed it to Silas.
"Hydrate."
Then she set the unopened bottle on the step next to me. "You okay? You look pale."
Silas took small sips, looking up at her with adoration. "Harper, that three-pointer was incredible! You looked so cool out there."
Harper grinned, basking in the praise. She was about to say something when Silas suddenly swayed. His hand "slipped," and the open water bottle tipped over.
Ice-cold water splashed all over my lap, soaking my jeans instantly.
"Oh my god! Leo, I'm so sorry!" Silas shrieked, jumping up. He reached out as if to wipe the water off my pants, panic written all over his face.
But then, he stumbled over his own feet and fell backward, straight into Harper's arms.
"Whoa, gotcha!" Harper caught him, her reflex instant. "You okay?"
"I... I'm fine," Silas murmured, leaning his full weight against her. "Just dizzy. Vision went black for a second..."
Harper scooped him up, her brow furrowed in concern. She started walking him toward the nurse's office.
A few steps away, she stopped and looked back at me.
I was still sitting on the concrete, water dripping from my jeans, shivering slightly from the shock of the cold. I looked at her, waiting for the bare minimum. Are you okay?
It didn't come.
Her eyes were heavy with disappointment.
"Leo," she said, her voice cold. "Silas is sick. Couldn't you have kept an eye on him? I didn't think you could be this cold-hearted."
She turned and marched Silas away.
The whispers from the class washed over me. I sat there, frozen, feeling a familiar, tight pain clenching around my heart.
3
After that day, I stopped trying.
I stopped explaining. I stopped fighting. I stopped looking at Harper.
I walked home in wet jeans that day. The autumn wind cut through the damp denim, chilling me to the bone, but the cold inside my chest was worse.
The next morning, Harper approached my desk. She placed a carton of warm milk in front of mea peace offering.
"Look... Silas didn't mean it yesterday. His health is just fragile, you know? Like yours. Don't take it personally."
I looked at her, and for the first time, I felt nothing. Just a vast, gray boredom.
In her eyes, I was the one who didn't need worrying about. Heart condition? I had meds. Misunderstood? I had a mouth; I could defend myself. Our history had convinced her that my resilience was infinite.
I picked up the milk, placed it back on her desk, and spoke softly.
"Thanks, but I already drank."
I turned my back to her and opened my vocabulary book.
Harper stood there for a moment, embarrassed, before snatching the milk and walking away. I heard Silass whisper from across the aisle: "Harper, is Leo still mad?"
From that day on, I excised myself from their narrative.
I left school the second the bell rang. In group projects, I did the work but offered no small talk.
Harper started to notice. She cornered me a few times, asking if I was still sulking about "the little things."
I just shook my head. "No. Finals are coming up. I need to focus."
She looked at me like I was a stranger. She was used to me nagging her, used to me getting reactive. My calm unnerved her.
But I didn't have the stamina for drama anymore. My heart couldn't take it, and neither could my pride.
My salvation came in the form of a flyer on the bulletin board.
Citywide English Speech Competition.
Theme: The Power of Silence.
I stared at it. The Power of Silence.
The phrase cut through the fog in my brain. Why was I trying to scream to be heard by people who had chosen to be deaf? Real power wasn't in the argument; it was in the action. It was in succeeding without them.
I tore off the tab, went to the office, and signed my name.
The moment I handed in the form, my erratic heart seemed to find a steady beat.
I threw myself into it. Lunch breaks were spent on the roof, practicing enunciation to the empty football field. Evenings were spent refining my draft, cutting out every unnecessary word.
Meanwhile, Silas was thriving. He was the school mascot of kindnesshanding out water to the team, helping people with homework (and then asking Harper for help when he got stuck). They were a perfect, sickening pair.
One afternoon, I passed them in the hallway. Silas tugged Harper's sleeve loud enough for me to hear.
"Harper, look at Leo. He's so focused lately. He barely talks to us anymore."
Harper's gaze lingered on me, complicated and unreadable.
I didn't break stride.
The night before the finals, I stayed late in the empty classroom for one last dress rehearsal. The moonlight spilled over the desks. I wore my white dress shirtI wanted to get used to the feel of the stiff collar.
I ran through the speech. Every pause, every inflection was muscle memory now.
I felt ready. I felt light.
I was packing up when the classroom door creaked open.
Silas stood there, holding a steaming cup of coffee, wearing a smile that was all innocence and poison.
"Leo! You're still here? I brought you some coffee. To keep you going."
4
"Thanks, but I was just leaving."
I folded my speech carefully, placing it in my folder on the desk. My white shirt, the one Id ironed specifically for tomorrow, was draped over the back of my chair.
"Don't rush off, Leo." Silas stepped into the room. He placed the coffee on the desk, dangerously close to my folder. "Tomorrow is the big day. You must be nervous. Drink something warm."
I instinctively took a step back, creating distance. I reached out to move my folder and shirt away from him.
"I really don't want it. Thanks."
My rejection seemed to fluster him. He took a step forward, as if to plead his case, but then his foot "caught" on a chair leg.
"Ah!"
It was theatrical. The cup of scalding coffee launched from his hand in a perfect arc.
Dark brown liquid splashed across the folder, soaking the pages instantly, and splattered all over the pristine white shirt.
It happened in slow motion.
"Oh my god! Leo, I'm so sorry!" Silas dropped to his knees, grabbing tissues, frantically scrubbing at the mess, which only ground the coffee stain deeper into the fabric. "I didn't mean to! I just..."
I stared at weeks of work dissolving into brown pulp. I stared at the shirt I had to wear in twelve hours. My mind went blank.
Then, footsteps.
Silas heard them too. He looked up at me, tears instantly welling in his eyes. Then, he threw himself backward, landing hard on the floor as if I had shoved him.
"Leo, please don't be mad... I know you worked so hard..."
The door flew open.
Harper stood there. Her eyes swept the roomthe coffee, the mess, Silas on the floor.
"Leo!"
"What the hell are you doing?"
She didn't look at the ruined speech. She didn't look at the shirt. She stormed over to Silas.
"You can't win fair and square, so you resort to bullying?" She glared at me, her expression twisting into disgust. "I didn't know you were this vicious."
Vicious?
A sharp pain exploded in my chest, radiating down my left arm. My vision tunneled.
I opened my mouth to say I didn't do it, but no sound came out. My throat closed up.
I stumbled, gripping the edge of the desk. My hand shook uncontrollably as I reached for my pocket.
Meds... I need my meds...
But my legs gave out. I slid down the side of the desk, hitting the floor. The pill bottle tumbled out of my pocket, rolling across the linoleum with a cheerful clatter-clatter, stopping just out of reach.
The room began to spin. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.
The last thing I saw before the lights went out was Harper stepping over my body to help a crying Silas.
"Silas, are you okay? Did you get hurt?"
Her voice was full of the panic and care I had never received.
First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "311561" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
Bookworm« Previous Post
My Bad Luck Is On The Payroll
Next Post »
The Fertility Cheat Code Is My Final Revenge