Chapter 10 - The Year We Almost Drifted
Chapter 10: The Year We Almost Drifted
Time has a funny way of moving when you’re not watching.
One day you’re panicking over your first quiz in a lecture theatre that smells like marker ink and anxiety. The next, you’re calculating how many credits you need to graduate—and realizing that the end isn’t just near. It’s here.
ABIX felt it.
Not all at once, but in quiet, creeping ways.
Schedules Shift
It began with the calendars.
Aleem’s final-year project in Computer Engineering started consuming him. He spent most of his time debugging code, prepping for presentations, and meeting his project supervisor. Half the time, he barely saw sunlight. His laptop became his best friend. And worst enemy.
Crystal, meanwhile, had taken on a leadership role in her linguistics society. She was planning events, coordinating volunteers, and managing drama more intense than any soap opera.
“Just because you study communication doesn’t mean you know how to communicate,” she ranted to the group one day, crashing onto the canteen bench mid-rant, eyes twitching from too much coffee.
Isabelle was deep in lab work. Chemistry was unforgiving. Her schedule was dictated by experiments, reaction timings, and temperamental lab equipment that had no regard for human emotion.
“I spilled ethanol on my notes,” she mumbled during one group lunch. “I think I’m high.”
Ivan? He wasn’t even around much anymore.
After taking a gap year the previous semester due to family matters, he was now a year behind. Still in Mechanical Engineering, still sharp as ever—but suddenly, he wasn’t walking the same path as the others.
“I feel like a side character in my own story,” he joked once during a rare meetup. “Like the DLC that drops one year later.”
They laughed.
But it lingered.
The Group Chat Ghost Town
The ABIX chat, once a chaotic stream of memes, random thoughts, and homework panics, became… quieter.
Messages came in bursts. Responses came hours later. Sometimes days.
[ABIX Chat]
Crystal: Who free this Friday? Bubble tea meetup?
Isabelle: Lab till late 😭
Ivan: Out of town for project site visit.
Aleem: Might have FYP review. Can’t confirm yet.
The “might”s and “can’t”s became the default. Plans got cancelled. Or worse—forgotten.
No one said it, but they all felt it.
Were they… drifting?
The Meetup That Almost Didn’t Happen
One rainy afternoon in Semester 2, Crystal sent a firm message:
[ABIX Chat]
Crystal: Sunday. 5pm. NTU Starbucks. No excuses. We need to catch up or I’m kidnapping all of you. Yes, even you, Ivan.
To everyone’s surprise—everyone showed up.
Aleem came, slightly late, laptop still warm in his bag. Ivan looked like he’d run from the MRT. Isabelle wore gloves from lab and hadn’t removed them until she reached the table. Crystal was already waiting, two drinks in, third halfway done.
They looked at each other.
Then laughed.
The tension melted in an instant.
“Still alive?” Aleem asked.
“Barely,” Isabelle replied.
Crystal reached out, placing a hand on the center of the table. “Okay, real talk. I miss us. I miss being ABIX. I know we’re all busy, I know we’re in different timelines now… but can we at least promise this?”
“Quarterly meetup?” Ivan offered.
“ABIX day, once a term,” Aleem added.
“Biannual roti john therapy,” Isabelle said, deadpan.
“Deal,” Crystal grinned. “And we hold each other to it.”
The Tease of Goodbyes
That same night, walking back to the halls, the group split two by two. Isabelle peeled off first for a 7PM Zoom tutorial.
Ivan gave Aleem a side glance. “So… graduating soon, huh?”
Aleem nodded. “Feels surreal.”
“Crystal too?”
“Yeah. Different schools, but… same timeline.”
“Meanwhile, I’ll be doing this one more year.”
Aleem smiled, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, DLCs always come with upgraded gear.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, but smiled.
Later, as Crystal and Aleem walked together toward Hall 10, the sky dimming to twilight, they talked quietly.
“Scared?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Aleem said honestly.
She nodded. “Me too.”
They paused. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was familiar. Comfortable.
“No matter where we go,” she said, “we’ll still be ABIX, right?”
Aleem looked at her, the faint lights of campus reflected in his glasses.
“Always.”