Toward The Galaxy

This man could also utter such romantic lines in the most serious voice.

My heart skipped a beat, and the chat went wild again.

[Holy moly! This man is a one-in-a-million! He’s handsome and a sweet talker! I’ll officiate your wedding, so get married already!]

[What on earth are those four idiots thinking? Why are they casting aside such a good girl and being simps for that manipulative witch?]

[It’s human nature to be cheap. We never treasure the things we get easily and only regret it after losing it.]

That was true. They probably thought that I would always wait for them.

Tyler was a manchild, Noah was a sweet talker, Ethan was good at fighting, and Mark was quiet but could always read my thoughts.

I was supposed to be the princess they treasured.

They forbade me from talking to other boys and confiscated love letters given to me. According to them, “children” should not be dating while studying.

They took up all my free time.

I once thought that this was the best friendship in the world.

During my third year in high school, I got a full-ride scholarship to an Ivy League university, and I immediately told them about it.

However, Tyler’s expression sank. “You’re going to the capital and leaving us behind for a stupid scholarship?”

Noah then tried to dissuade me, “Layla, you’re a girl. We’ll be worried if you go so far away.”

Ethan even said, “If you go, we won’t be friends with you anymore!”

I was worried about losing them, so I rejected the Ivy League university’s offer right in front of them.

I then told them that I wanted to take the SATs to be together with them, my friends.

They were so happy that they laughed and cheered. They declared that I was their best friend.

Later on, I learned that it was not because they were worried about me leaving them behind. Instead, they were worried that I would no longer be under their control.

A Layla who no longer needed their protection was worthless to them.

During the holidays before my third year in high school, I had gone behind their backs and registered for a summer prep camp. It was for the country’s top physics competition.

Tyler and the others always thought that it was pointless for a woman to study physics.

To not make it seem like I did not fit in, I hid my passion.

On the last day of the summer, I submitted my test an hour ahead. I was about to leave when a cool voice called out to me, “One moment, Layla York.”

I turned around and saw a man in a white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses.

He was staring at me with profound eyes and holding my test paper.

“How did you come up with the solution for this bonus question?” he asked in awe.

I gave him my answer while stammering.

He remained silent for a long time before smiling. That was the first time I saw him smile, and it was like ice melting.

“You’re talented. You shouldn’t let your talents be buried.”

I learned later that he was the exam setter and judge of the summer camp. He was also the physics department’s youngest PhD advisor in the Ivy League university I was set to attend—Samuel Grant.

I got first place, but I hid my trophy and certificate under my bed; I was worried about Tyler and the others finding it.

Samuel then added my number. He never said much and only occasionally sent me some physics articles.

Whenever I was stressed out from homework, he would send me a picture of the trees in the university and how the sun shone on the paths inside.

Underneath, he would send me these words: [I’ll wait for you.]

He had quietly barged into my life and let me know that my world was not restricted to that small town. My social circle no longer consisted of just those four self-righteous people.

Outside, there was wind, light, and a place I never dared dream of going to in the past.

After my SATs, I refused his help to get into the university and insisted on getting in just like everyone else.

Samuel did not try to dissuade me and just said, “No matter which path you choose, I’ll always side with you. But you must always be in control of your own life.”