It's Saturday. One week since that lecture hall encounter with Aiden. One week since his words cut through me, leaving behind a sting I can't quite shake. I tell myself I don't care. I tell myself I've moved on. But every now and then, he sneaks into my thoughts, uninvited and unwelcome.
Maddie hasn't called all week. No texts, no messages, nothing. It's unlike her, but I don't reach out either. Maybe I should. Maybe I don't want to. Benson, on the other hand, has been texting—but the conversations are dry, forced. I read his messages and feel... nothing. And that scares me more than anything.
I try to focus on the present. On fixing things. But my mind keeps drifting back to Aiden. I haven't spoken to him since that day, haven't dared. Still, I see him. Or rather, I see his life—flashing across my screen in curated snapshots of happiness. His girlfriend posts their dates almost daily, each photo a perfect moment frozen in time. I should be relieved that he's moving on. I should be happy. But I'm not.
I sigh, staring at my phone. I try calling Maddie. No answer. I try Benson. Straight to voicemail. After the fifth attempt, I toss my phone onto my bed and groan.
I need air.
I grab my headphones, slip into my hoodie and sneakers, and step outside. The sky is a muted blue, streaked with wisps of white clouds. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and damp pavement.
Our neighborhood is painfully uniform—rows of identical two-story houses stretching for five streets, each one painted a different shade of bright, cheerful color. Except ours. A deep, exotic gray with maroon accents. It stands out, much like my mother and I did when we first moved here five years ago.
Back then, everything had been new. Exciting. I had been eager to escape the suffocating familiarity of my old town, to start fresh where no one knew my name. My mother had just been transferred for work, and this move had felt like the beginning of something good.
Western High had been intimidating at first, but by my second week, I had met Maddie. She was everything I wasn't—loud, confident, effortlessly charming. She hated books, I loved them. She thrived in crowds, I shrank from them. But we had one thing in common: we both wanted to be pharmacists. "The easiest job that pays well," we used to joke, laughing at our own little motto.
By senior year, Benson had transferred in, shaking up our dynamic. He was the kind of guy everyone noticed—tall, handsome, effortlessly charming. He knew it too. Maddie and he fought constantly, their bickering a near-daily occurrence. But somehow, he ended up in our circle, wedging himself between us until he became a permanent fixture.
I had liked him. So had every other girl. And for a while, he liked me back.
University changed everything. Maddie failed her sciences and switched to business. Benson went into law and got busier. The gaps between us grew. And yet, he and I kept finding our way back to each other, through awkward flirtations and quiet moments that eventually led to something real.
Or at least, I thought it was real.
But love is strange. One moment, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and the next, it's slipping through your fingers, leaving behind only questions and empty spaces. Our relationship was a constant push and pull—sometimes warm and full of laughter, sometimes cold and distant.
And Maddie? Her love life had been even messier. After breaking up with Jack, she had sworn off relationships, only to jump into another one weeks later. It ended in disaster, leaving her bitter and withdrawn. We became a trio again, though things always felt a little off. Benson and Maddie still argued, and sometimes, I wondered if there was something deeper beneath their fights.
Then Trevor happened.
Maddie fell headfirst into his world—parties, drinking, a different kind of chaos. She still made time for me, but it was less frequent. And Benson? He avoided her. Or maybe she avoided him. Either way, the tension between them was a puzzle I never quite solved.
That was around the time I met Aiden.
He had been a surprise—an unexpected presence introduced through my mother's best friend. He was different from Benson, colder, sharper. He fascinated me in a way I couldn't explain. And maybe, that's where I went wrong.
Because now, months later, I feel like I have no one.
Benson is distant. Maddie is busy. Aiden is... whatever he is. And I?
I don't even have my books anymore. Reading used to be my escape, but lately, every romance novel feels predictable, every plot recycled.
I sigh, realizing how far I've walked. I glance up, my stomach lurching when I recognize the house in front of me.
Aiden's place.
I don't even know how I got here. My feet must have carried me on autopilot, drawn to something I shouldn't be near.
I hesitate, staring at the door. There was a time when walking in felt natural. Now, it feels impossible. I don't belong here anymore. He made sure of that.
So I turn around and head back home.
This time, I pay attention to the world around me. I count the houses as I pass, noting the small changes—new flowers in a garden, a freshly painted mailbox, a kid's bicycle abandoned on a lawn. The sun is setting, washing the sky in shades of gold and crimson.
It's breathtaking.
I'll always love sunsets.
And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be a little easier than today.