A Long Day and a Surprising Invitation

Lexi sat curled up in the farthest stall of the women's restroom, her back pressed against the cold, tiled wall. Her knees were drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. The toilet paper roll beside her hung slack, its edge fluttering slightly in the draft. She hadn’t meant to cry. She never did. But today had broken something—maybe her pride, or the last thread of dignity she had clung to.

Today was bad. Really bad.

It had started in Political Theory. Dr. Zuleika Mahfouz had dissected her paper in front of the class. Not just critiqued—dissected. "This is a classic example of white sentimentalism masquerading as critical thought," she had said, holding up the printed pages as if they were contaminated. Her voice remained calm, clinical. "Lexi, I suggest you spend less time centering your own comfort and more time understanding lived oppression."

A few students snickered behind their laptops. The rest stayed silent.

No one defended her.

Not Priya. Not even Amara.

Lexi had sat frozen in her chair, hands clenched under the desk, heart pounding in her throat.

Then, after class, she made the mistake of stopping by the student housing office one more time. Ms. Nur sat behind the desk, her expression already bored.

"Again?" she said before Lexi even opened her mouth.

Lexi **** her voice to stay steady. "I just wanted to check if there's been any update on the dorm appeal. I really can't keep commuting from Varellon Heights, it's—"

Ms. Nur cut her off with a raised eyebrow. "You can't afford it. And frankly, you wouldn't be happy there."

Lexi blinked. "But there's a shared tier option, I saw the rates, and I—"

"And you still can’t pay for it," Ms. Nur snapped. "Let it go. Some spots are meant for people who actually need them. You know the rules—we, as WOC, have to feel safe in our spaces. And you can’t blame anyone if they don’t feel safe around you."

Lexi’s breath caught. The words weren’t angry, just matter-of-fact. That made them worse."

Lexi opened her mouth. Closed it again. She turned and left.

By the time she reached the cafeteria, her throat was raw, her eyes dry but stinging. She bought a meal with her last money: instant broth and a cracked rice cake. She sat alone at a far table, hoping the noise of the room would swallow her.

It didn’t work.

"Lexi!" Anjila's voice rang out across the room. Sweet and sharp. "Why so lonely? Come sit with us. Don’t be tragic."

Lexi froze. She knew what this meant. But ignoring it would only draw more attention. She picked up her tray and walked over.

Amara was already at the table, arms folded, gaze fixed on the wall. Priya sat beside her, fidgeting with a spoon. She gave Lexi a small, awkward smile.

"Hey… you okay?" Priya asked quietly.

Lexi nodded, though her throat tightened.

Then Xia and Zhen arrived. They dropped their bags with theatrical flair and sat down like they owned the place.

Xia didn’t even look at her. "Still here?"

Zhen snorted. "You still wearing gloves when you clean, or are you just going raw now?""

Laughter rippled across the table. Priya looked away. Amara said nothing.

Anjila leaned forward, placing a manicured hand on Lexi’s tray. Her voice dropped just enough to be heard: "We let you stay, Lexi. That’s already progress. You’re part of the learning environment now. A living case study."

Lexi said nothing. Her broth had gone cold. Her hands trembled in her lap.

No one stopped them.

No one said her name.

She stood, picked up her tray, and walked out. Behind her, Anjila laughed sharply.

"As if I’d actually let some little Beckie eat with me. Please."

Her breath was shallow. They laughed. And she sat there. Like she always did. Like she was supposed to. Because if she spoke, she was dangerous. And if she didn’t, she was irrelevant.

Outside, the cold cut straight through her coat. The sun had vanished. A bitter wind howled through the concrete corridors of Havenridge. Lexi sat on the main steps of the humanities building, clutching her arms around herself. Her face was dry now—the tears had stopped, not because the pain had faded, but because she was too exhausted to cry more. Her entire body felt hollow, like she’d been scraped out.

She thought about going back to her apartment. Back to Mr. Hanif. Maybe she’d knock this time. Maybe she’d finally trade dignity for a few weeks of safety. Or food. Or heat. The thought made her stomach twist.

And then came the footsteps.

Her stomach growled. Loudly. She hadn’t eaten anything real since yesterday. Her fingers trembled.

She thought of leaving. Of walking all the way back to Varellon Heights. Of boiling water for rice she didn’t have.

She didn’t hear the footsteps until they were close.

Heels. Sharp. Deliberate.

Simone.

Lexi stiffened instantly.

Simone stopped beside her and looked down, arms crossed.

"I told you to come to my office."

Lexi swallowed hard. Here it comes. Another lecture. Another verbal scalpel. Her body braced.

But Simone didn’t berate her.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly. Her voice changed.

"You’re hungry. Come. You’re eating with us tonight."

Lexi blinked.

"What?"

Simone smiled. Not the cold, ironic twist of the classroom. But something else. Something warm. Real.

"It’s just dinner, Lexi. Not a trap. You need to eat."

Lexi opened her mouth. Closed it.

Her stomach growled again.

She hated herself for it.

But she nodded.

Simone turned and began walking. No command. No threats.

Lexi stood slowly and followed.

The courtyard was nearly empty now. Lights buzzed overhead. A few stray leaves tumbled past. Behind them, the cafeteria windows glowed. Laughter echoed faintly from inside.

Lexi walked in silence, steps uncertain. Her thoughts tangled.

Maybe it was a trick.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But tonight, I just want to eat.