Chapter Text
Monday morning came too fast, and Emma barely managed to drag herself out of bed. She’d spent most of Sunday night tossing and turning, her thoughts spinning in circles she couldn’t quite untangle. By the time her alarm blared, she felt more exhausted than when she’d first laid down.
Mary Margaret’s chipper voice rang out from the kitchen. “Emma! Breakfast is ready!”
“I’m coming!” Emma called back, throwing on a hoodie over her tank top and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She grabbed her bag, skipped breakfast, and headed out the door before Mary Margaret could try to engage her in one of her well-meaning but overly cheerful conversations.
The walk to school was cold, and the brisk air stung her cheeks. By the time she reached the front steps of Storybrooke High, the halls were already filling with students. Emma spotted Ruby leaning against her locker, her arms crossed and her red-streaked hair standing out like a warning light.
“Morning, Ems,” Ruby greeted with a grin. “Ready for another day?”
“Sure,” Emma muttered, fiddling with the strap of her bag.
Ruby studied her for a moment, her grin softening. “You good? You look like you didn’t sleep.”
“I’m fine,” Emma said quickly. “Just… didn’t get much rest. No big deal.”
Ruby didn’t look convinced, but she let it drop. “Well, come on, we’ve got English first.”
Emma followed Ruby down the hall, trying to shake off the weight pressing against her chest. She was fine. She always was.
The morning passed in a blur of classes, notes, and half-listened-to lectures. By lunch, Emma was ready to crash. She met Ruby and Belle in the cafeteria, sliding into their usual spot at the back corner table.
“You look like death,” Ruby said bluntly, handing Emma a cookie from her tray. “Here. Sugar helps.”
“Thanks,” Emma muttered, nibbling on the cookie as Belle gave Ruby a disapproving look.
“Maybe start with ‘How are you?’ next time,” Belle suggested.
“What? I’m being helpful!” Ruby defended.
Emma chuckled softly, appreciating their banter more than she cared to admit. “I’m fine, really. Just didn’t sleep much.”
Belle tilted her head. “Something on your mind?”
Emma hesitated, her fingers tightening around the cookie. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for her to open up, but the words stuck in her throat.
Before she could answer, Ruby changed the subject. “So, did you hear about the party this Friday? Neal’s throwing it, and everyone’s going.”
“Everyone?” Emma asked, grateful for the distraction.
“Yeah, everyone who’s anyone,” Ruby said, leaning back in her chair. “You should come. It’ll be fun.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Since when am I ‘anyone’?”
“Since you’re friends with me,” Ruby replied with a wink.
Belle rolled her eyes. “It might be nice to get out and have some fun, Emma. You could use it.”
Emma considered it for a moment. A party sounded like the last thing she wanted to do, but maybe they were right. Maybe she needed to let herself loosen up for once.
“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally, taking another bite of the cookie.
The last class of the day was history, and Emma felt her stomach tighten as she walked into the room. Miss Mills was already there, standing at the front of the class with her arms crossed and her sharp gaze scanning the students as they filed in.
Emma slid into her seat beside Ruby, keeping her head down as she pulled out her notebook.
“Good afternoon, class,” Miss Mills began, her tone as crisp as her tailored blazer. “Today, we’ll be discussing the Reconstruction Era. Open your textbooks to page 187.”
The lesson was as intense as always, with Miss Mills calling on students at random to answer questions or provide analysis. When she called on Emma, her heart leapt into her throat.
“Miss Swan,” Regina said, her voice calm but firm. “In your opinion, what was the most significant challenge the United States faced during Reconstruction?”
Emma swallowed hard, her mind racing. “Uh… rebuilding the economy, I guess? Especially in the South.”
Regina raised an eyebrow. “An understandable answer, but vague. Can you elaborate?”
Emma hesitated, her cheeks burning. “Well, the South relied a lot on slavery for its economy, so when slavery was abolished, they had to figure out a new system. I guess… there was a lot of resistance to change?”
Regina nodded slowly, a flicker of approval in her expression. “A fair analysis. Next time, I’d like to hear more specifics. Good effort.”
Emma exhaled quietly, relief washing over her. As Miss Mills moved on to the next student, Emma couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride.
After class, Emma lingered at her desk, pretending to gather her things as the other students filed out. She wasn’t sure why she stayed—maybe to test her nerves, or maybe because she wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t intimidated by Regina Mills.
“Miss Swan,” Regina said, looking up from her desk.
Emma froze, gripping the strap of her bag. “Yes?”
Regina’s gaze softened, just barely. “You handled today’s discussion well. Keep it up.”
Emma blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks.”
Regina nodded once before returning to her papers, her expression unreadable.
As Emma left the classroom, her mind buzzed with a hundred thoughts, none of which she could pin down.
That evening, Emma sat on her bed, staring at the worn postcard she’d pulled from the box under her bed. It was addressed to no one, the message scrawled on the back in faded ink:
“Someday, you’ll find where you belong. Don’t give up.”
She didn’t know who had written it, but she’d kept it anyway, clinging to the hope it promised.
For the first time in a long time, Emma felt like maybe—just maybe—she was starting to find that place.