A new school year unfurled like a blank page, bringing with it the quiet allure of new sections and unfamiliar faces. But, by some stroke of luck, Matt and I remained in the same class, our status as honor students keeping us connected. Love had just begun to stir between us, tentative and fragile, like the first breath of morning, filling the spaces between us with the soft murmur of what might be. It was a time of stolen glances, the kind that spoke volumes, of words half-spoken and hands brushing by accident, where every touch felt like a secret and every smile carried the weight of things left unsaid. But that delicate beginning, as beautiful as it was, always seemed poised to unravel.

Then she came.

The change was subtle at first, like the quiet stir of air before a storm. She was a transferee—beautiful and self-assured, with an effortless grace that made her seem at once part of everything and separate from it all.

 Suddenly, you two were seatmates, and I couldn’t help but notice how natural it seemed, almost like the first time we talked. It felt strange, seeing you both together, a change I didn’t expect.

 And I, watching from the sidelines, felt something stir deep inside, a quiet ache I hadn’t expected. The change was so smooth, so natural, it almost felt like the first time we’d spoken, only now, the space between us had grown wider.

 If Matt and I had shared many similarities, it seemed that she and Matt had even more in common. She loved to draw. She was passionate about singing. 

And like Matt, she came from a family facing financial struggles. 

I noticed how quickly they grew close.

Weeks went by.

During breaks between classes, you’d doodle in your notebook, and  her eyes drifting over your sketches, a quiet fascination in her gaze. I couldn’t always catch the full conversation, but I’d hear fragments of it, and every word seemed to linger in the air longer than it should have.

There was something about it—her laughter, light and effortless, the way she looked at you, her smile a little too soft. And then, just when I thought I could escape the moment, I heard it. Faint, like a whisper meant for just the two of you, but loud enough for me to feel it.

"You should join the music club, Stephanie."

  The words echoed in my mind, bitter and sweet at the same time, as I realized that maybe, just maybe, she was taking something I thought was mine. 

Physical education started, and to my excitement, the subject for the day was ballroom dancing. I could hardly contain my anticipation. The teacher smiled as she clapped her hands. “Pairing will be by height, so please line up side by side. Boys to your left, girls to your right.”

The buzz of chatter and excitement filled the room, the air thick with energy as everyone shuffled into place. I barely heard my own thoughts over the hum of voices, but one whispered through my mind like a wish: I wish I’d get paired up with Matt.

Just then, I overheard a soft voice in front of me, from a girl almost the same height. She murmured to her friend, “I hope I get paired with Matt.”

Something in my chest tightened, a strange, uncomfortable feeling knotting my stomach. I couldn’t explain it, but it was there, deep and heavy.

I glanced around as the thoughts hit me like a cold wave. I hope Matt gets paired with me. Or with anyone… but not her.

Wait, did I just think that? I wondered, horrified.

It was like the words took on a life of their own, and the horror of them hung in the air for just a second longer than I wanted.

The teacher motioned for us to line up properly, and I began counting the girls ahead of me, then the boys. I watched them all pair off, each girl joining a partner with a quick smile and a soft chuckle. When they got to Matt, my heart seemed to stop.

“Yay, Matt! We’re partners!” Stephanie’s voice rang out, her words dripping with enthusiasm as she casually touched his arm.

A sharp, unexplainable ache surged through me as I watched them together. Stephanie. Of course, it was her. It wasn’t supposed to be her. I was this one step away being Matt's partner. The knot in my chest tightened as I realized I wasn’t the one Matt was smiling at. It wasn’t supposed to be her. A feeling of jealousy I couldn’t explain simmered inside me, making my heart twist uncomfortably.

“Hey, it’s us, Mel!” A voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Ephraim, tapping me lightly on the shoulder.

Ephraim. My friend since elementary. The nerdy, funny guy who used to be shorter than me and a total crybaby. I had invited him to the martial arts club back then, and ever since, he’d been like the little brother I never had. Now, though, he was inches taller than me.

Having him as my partner made my mood lift just a little.

“My gosh, you startled me, Ephraim!” I said, giving him an exaggerated pout.

“Haha, you were so busy looking at your man,” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“He’s not my man,” I replied quickly, though both of us were still watching Matt and Stephanie, giggling as they exchanged a quiet joke.

“Well, you have me as your partner. As usual, let’s be the top dancers ever.” Ephraim’s voice was full of enthusiasm, his infectious energy slowly pulling me out of my own thoughts.

I giggled despite myself. “This is not a competition, Ephraim. Silly!”

As we talked, I caught a glimpse of Matt out of the corner of my eye. His gaze flickered toward us for a split second, just long enough for me to wonder if he noticed. My heart skipped a beat, but before I could read his expression, he quickly turned back to Stephanie. And for some reason, it hurt more than I wanted to admit.

The day of the dance arrived, and the dressing room buzzed with excitement. I adjusted my dress nervously, fingers trembling slightly as I fixed the seams. Then, a voice broke through the hum of chatter.

"Hey."

I looked up to see Stephanie approaching me, her smile warm. "Can I sit here?"

It was the first time we'd spoken since the school year had started, and the unfamiliarity of the moment left me a little off balance.

"Sure," I replied, giving her a small smile.

She extended her hand with a friendly gesture. "We haven’t had the chance to talk since the start of class, but I'm Stephanie!"

I shook her hand. "I'm Melanie."

"I'm so excited for today," she continued, her eyes practically sparkling. "I can't believe I got paired up with him."

Something inside me flicked. "Oh yeah?" I asked, curiosity piqued despite myself.

Stephanie was lost in her own world, talking excitedly. "As I get to know him more, he's such a hardworking guy. He draws and sings so well... Isn't he dreamy?"

I only half-listened, focused on adjusting the folds of my dress, avoiding her gaze. Something about her enthusiasm felt a little too much, though I couldn’t quite place why.

"Don’t you think he has someone?" she added.

“Well, have you asked him?” My tone with a little bit of annoyance by now.

 Her voice softened, ignoring my question. "I think I'm in love with him. I think I'm going to confess to him."

My heart stuttered in my chest. "You what?"

Before she could answer, the intercom crackled to life.

"All students, please proceed to the gym."

Stephanie grabbed my hand, pulling me up with a force that caught me off guard. "Oh, we have to go now, Melanie!"

I stumbled a little as she led me out of the room, my mind still reeling from her confession.

In the gym, Stephanie spotted Matt immediately. "Oh, Matt! Over here!" She waved enthusiastically, her face lighting up the moment she saw him.

Matt’s smile greeted us, but it was distant, like a mask he wore because it was expected of him. When he smiled at me, it felt polite, detached.

"Hey," I managed, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," Matt replied, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

I noticed he was not wearing his bracelet.

Stephanie didn’t waste any time. She grabbed Matt's arm, pulling him closer. "Shall we go?" she asked, and they moved toward the dance floor.

Ephraim appeared at my side then, his voice soft. "Shall we go too, Mel?"

His presence was a comforting distraction, though something inside me twisted as I forced a slightly irked smile at Matt’s retreating figure. I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was more to his smile than I had thought.

Ephraim offered his hand, and I took it. As we positioned ourselves for the dance, he leaned close, his voice low. "You okay?"

I forced a smile, the weight of Stephanie's words still heavy in my chest. "Yep, I am."

He noticed my shift in mood. "Aw, don’t be like that. You’re beautiful in your dress."

As we moved to the rhythm of the song, Ephraim stayed close, his face just inches from my ear. The warmth of his breath made me twitch.

"You're tickling me," I whispered, trying to shift away.

Ephraim chuckled softly, his voice barely audible. "Just trust me."

Stephanie and Matt swayed to the music, but Matt’s gaze wandered. He shut his eyes for a moment, then turned back to her, his smile mirroring hers.

As we took our final bows, applause echoing through the hall, I caught sight of Stephanie pulling Matt away from the crowd.

A tense coil wound itself deep in my stomach, tightening with every passing second.

A strange, uneasy weight settled in my chest. Seeing Matt with another girl made my stomach twist. But watching him hold her hand—it was something else entirely. A sharp, unfamiliar ache surged through me, like a wave I wasn’t ready for.

"You sure you don't want me to drop you off?" Ephraim asked as we walked down the hallway.

"Yep! I need to talk to Matt."

"Okay, you lover girl," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Dianne's waiting for you. Go now."

"Alright. But just a piece of advice—let him do the work, not you."

"What do you even mean?"

Ephraim smirked. "Oh, I know you know what I mean. Kay, bye, Mel!"

"Bye."

As I walked toward the dressing room, the hallway fell into silence. Then—

"Livi."

That voice. I knew it instantly.

I hesitated, my heart quickening. "Hey," I replied, not turning around, my face suddenly warm.

"Why aren't you facing me?"

"Huh? Well..." I was flustered—but also thrilled he had called my name.

"You're beautiful in your dress."

I finally turned to him. "Thank you." It had been so long since we talked like this, just the two of us.

"Well, I was thinking about going to Sevun/11, and Stephanie asked if you could come."

I froze, my heart stuttering in my chest. What? Did I hear that right? My mind struggled to make sense of the words that had just slipped from Matt’s mouth, but they didn’t seem to fit, didn’t seem real. Stephanie and Matt had planned a little getaway, and I was... the third wheel? My thoughts spun in frantic circles, each one crashing into the next, trying to piece together the fragments of what this meant. How had I missed this? How had I not known? The idea of the two of them together, just the two of them, while I stood on the outside looking in—it made my stomach twist. I thought we were close, I thought we were something. But here I was, standing on the edge of something I hadn’t even seen coming, like a forgotten afterthought. Had this always been the plan? How had I ended up on the sidelines, a ghost in my own friendship? The weight of it pressed down on me, suffocating in its quiet cruelty.

"Huh?"

"If you have other plans, that's okay," he said casually.

"Matt, are you even hearing yourself?"

Ah, that does it.

"Huh? What's wrong?" His brows furrowed.

"Oh, so you're flirting with Stephanie now?" The words flew out before I could stop them.

"What? Flirting? No. Why would you even say that?" His brows knitted together, frustration flickering in his eyes as confusion settled on his face.

They say, when someone gets defensive over an accusation, it’s usually true.

"When we were lined up to get paired, you didn’t even bother switching places," I shot back.

"What?" His frown deepened.

"And now you're planning a date with Stephanie? Seriously? I feel like I'm just...."

"A date? Wait, where is this coming from, Melanie?"

"I don’t know, Matt. Maybe you should ask yourself." My voice wavered with anger, a kind of honesty I wasn’t used to. I was unsettled by how quickly Stephanie pulled you away after the dance. Did she confess? Did you respond? How did you respond? Does she know we’re...—wait, we’re not even official. This all hit me out of nowhere. I hated this. I hated feeling like this.

"We're just friends," he said, his tone firm. "I thought you two would get along. You have a lot in common."

I stared at him. Was he serious?

"But clearly, you're not in the mood," he added, his voice sharper now.

And then—for the first time ever—I saw Matt angry.

"I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but you really need to fix that attitude, Melanie. Call it what you want, but she’s just a friend."

Then he turned and walked away.

And we were both left burning in our own anger.