B E L L A || ✔️✔️

31 || Game Plan

JACE

As the days stretched into a string of endless hours, each one seemed to pull Arabella further away from us. Her laughter had become a rare sound, replaced by curt nods and fleeting glances. It wasn't like her. She had always been the heart of our group, the one who brought us together with her warmth and infectious energy. Now, she was like a shadow of herself, her smiles forced and her interactions minimal.

We were gathered around our usual table in the corner of the campus café, a spot that had witnessed countless conversations and laughter. Today, however, the air was thick with concern.

"Has anyone actually gotten more than a word out of Bella lately?" I asked, keeping my voice low. My gaze flickered across the faces of Noah, Sophia, and Kayden, each mirroring my worry.

Sophia shook her head, her brow furrowed. "She's shutting us out. Every time I try to talk to her, she just brushes me off. It's like she's building this wall around herself and won't let any of us in."

Noah leaned back in his chair, his eyes troubled. "I noticed that too. She's avoiding conversations, especially if they start going deeper than just surface-level stuff. It's not like her at all."

Kayden, who usually kept his thoughts to himself, chimed in with a serious tone. "Do you think something happened? Something she's not telling us about?"

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the onset of a headache with the stress of it all. "I don't know, but it's more than just a bad day or being busy. Something's up, and it's serious."

"We should do something," Sophia said, her voice laced with determination. "We can't just sit back and watch her spiral like this."

"But what can we do if she won't talk to us?" Noah countered, his frustration evident.

"I've tried," I admitted, my voice heavy with my own attempts to reach Arabella. "I've tried being there, giving her space, asking directly. Nothing works. She just pushes back harder."

The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts. The sense of helplessness was palpable. It was one thing to know someone needed help, but another entirely to stand by unable to provide it.

"Maybe we're approaching this wrong," Kayden suggested after a pause. "Instead of trying to pull her into conversations, we should just make sure she knows we're here. No pressure, just presence."

Sophia nodded slowly. "Support without the push. Maybe if she feels less cornered, she'll come around."

I sighed, looking out the window where students walked by, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside us. "Alright. We'll try it your way. We stay close, let her know we're here, but we don't push. Hopefully, she'll come to us when she's ready."

Agreement was mutual and silent, sealed with a nod from each of us. It felt like a flimsy plan, but it was something. The thought of doing nothing was far worse.

As the meeting broke up, a part of me couldn't help but feel uneasy. Arabella's behavior was more than just stress or a rough patch. The fleeting glimpses of fear I'd seen in her eyes, the way she jumped at sudden noises, it hinted at something deeper, something darker. But without her words, we were blind, and that blindness was a weight on my chest, heavy and uncomfortable.

Walking to class in the lecture hall, I replayed our past conversations in my head, searching for missed clues or hidden messages. But frustration was a cruel companion, and clarity remained just out of reach.

All I knew was that I couldn't let her drift away, not without a fight.

Arabella meant too much, to all of us, and whatever shadow was over her, we'd face it together, as soon as she let us back in.

The lecture hall was half-filled when I slipped into my usual seat at the back, my thoughts still tangled with concern for Arabella.

I barely registered the professor setting up for the lecture before Sophia slid into the seat beside me, her expression somber.

"Jace," she whispered, leaning closer so no one else could overhear. "I've been thinking about our plan... I don't think it's going to work."

I turned to her, surprised by her directness. "Why not? We just talked about it. Don't you think we should at least try it?"

Sophia shook her head, her eyes serious. "Look, I know we agreed to just be there for her, but Bella's slipping away faster than we thought. I think we're losing her, Jace. Just being present without addressing the issue isn't enough."

Her words hit harder than I expected, a sinking feeling in my gut. "So, what do you suggest? She's not exactly opening up."

"We might not be the right people to reach out directly," Sophia said, her gaze fixed on the front of the room but clearly not seeing anything. "Maybe it's time to consider getting some professional help involved. Someone who can offer her the kind of support we can't."

The idea of escalating things to that level hadn't fully formed in my mind yet. It felt like a betrayal, somehow, to go behind Arabella's back. But Sophia's concerned frown made me reconsider. "Do you think it's gotten that bad?"

"I do," she replied softly. "And think about it, if there's something serious that she's hiding, maybe she needs help that's beyond what friends can provide. We're not equipped to handle everything, Jace."

I nodded slowly, processing her words. The possibility that Arabella was dealing with something potentially dangerous, possibly bigger than any of us could manage, was daunting. "Okay, let's keep that in mind. But let's give it a little more time. I want to see if she'll come around with our current approach. If not, we'll take the next step."

Sophia agreed reluctantly, her concern palpable. "Alright. But we keep a close eye on her. If things get worse, we act fast."

"Agreed," I said, feeling a mixture of determination and dread. It was a plan—a fallback if our efforts failed. As the professor began the lecture, I found myself only half-listening, my thoughts still with Arabella, hoping that somehow, we could break through the barriers she had erected around herself.