The next morning, Jasmine saw Andrew again but this time, it wasn't a simple hallway sighting. She had arrived earlier than usual to print papers at the student center and found Andrew standing outside the main entrance, holding a medium-sized pastel pink box tied with a ribbon.
He looked nervous.
And excited.
Jackson was beside him, sipping coffee. "Dude, you sure you don't want to wait for her inside? It's humid out here."
Andrew shook his head lightly. "No. I want to give it to her right away."
"What even is that?" Travis asked, arriving moments later. "I swear that looks like something Claire would buy, not you."
"It's a cake," Andrew said. "She mentioned she hasn't had a proper birthday cake since high school. I thought it would be nice."
Jackson grinned. "Man, you're too good. She's lucky."
Andrew looked… happy. Hopeful.
Jasmine's chest tightened.
She shouldn't have felt anything. He wasn't hers, not even close. And Claire… well, Claire technically hadn't done anything wrong yet. As far as Jasmine knew, Andrew was still hers.
But for a moment, Jasmine let herself imagine being the girl receiving that cake. A foolish, tender thought. She quickly walked inside before anyone noticed her staring.
It wasn't until past noon that Jasmine saw Andrew again. She didn't mean to. She wasn't following him. She was just walking past the covered walkway near the Fine Arts building when she heard voices.
Claire's voice.
And someone else's.
Jasmine froze when she recognized the second voice.
Marco, Claire's classmate from Political Studies. They weren't close, but everyone knew Marco flirted with anything that had a pulse.
She shouldn't listen.
She should walk away.
But she didn't.
Because she heard Claire say:
"Stop it, Marco. Someone will see us."
That was enough to make Jasmine's blood run cold. She stayed behind the corner—not too close, but close enough to hear the next few sentences.
Marco chuckled. "Relax. Your boyfriend's busy playing knight-in-shining-armor. He'll never know."
Claire scoffed. "Andrew is sweet, but he's… boring. Too safe. He doesn't challenge me. And he gets clingy. I can't deal with that."
There was a shuffle of movement—maybe Marco pulling her closer.
"Then why stay with him?" Marco whispered.
Claire sighed. "Because it looks good. And his family is—"
Jasmine stepped back, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
She didn't need to hear more.
She didn't want to.
She pressed a hand to her chest as though she could physically stop it from shattering. Not because she was jealous… but because Andrew didn't deserve this. He trusted Claire. He loved Claire. And Claire was destroying that trust without hesitation.
That afternoon, Jasmine saw Andrew again—this time sitting alone by the student fountain, the pastel pink cake box open beside him.
Untouched.
Blossoming slowly into a melted mess under the sun.
Andrew wasn't crying, but he wasn't smiling either. He stared at the fountain as if it held answers he didn't know how to ask for. His shoulders were slumped—a posture she'd never seen on him before.
Claire was nowhere in sight.
Jasmine approached silently. Not to talk to him. Only to throw something in the trash can nearby. That was her excuse—she didn't want to seem like she was intruding.
But as she walked past him, she heard his voice.
"Jasmine?"
Her heartbeat faltered. She turned. "Oh. Andrew. I—I didn't see you."
He tried to smile but failed. "You're not busy, right? Can I… sit with you for a bit? I just—"
He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to. His eyes said enough.
And Jasmine, who had promised herself to stay away from him, nodded. "Of course."
They sat quietly at first, the breeze brushing their faces, students passing in the distance. Jasmine kept her gaze on the ground, afraid to look at him for too long.
"You ever get the feeling," Andrew began quietly, "that someone you trust isn't really who you thought they were?"
Jasmine's stomach twisted.
She swallowed hard. "Sometimes."
"I thought I was doing the right things," Andrew said. "Trying to be thoughtful, trying to… I don't know. Make her feel special." He exhaled heavily. "I waited for her this morning, you know? I wanted to surprise her for her birthday."
Jasmine stayed still.
"She didn't show up," he said with a humorless laugh. "She said she forgot we were supposed to meet."
Jasmine already knew Claire had been with Marco, she saw them herself.
But she couldn't say anything.
It wasn't her place.
Not yet.
Still, guilt weighed on her chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's fine," he lied.
Silence wrapped around them again.
Then…
"Jasmine?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think I'm… too much sometimes?"
She blinked. "Too much?"
"Too clingy. Too serious. Too—everything."
Her heart broke a little.
"No," she said softly but firmly. "I think you're… kind. And thoughtful. And real. Those aren't flaws."
Andrew finally looked up at her—really looked. And Jasmine felt her breath lodge in her throat. His eyes were soft, vulnerable, searching.
For what, she didn't know.
But it made her want to protect him from every hurt the world could offer.
"Thank you," he whispered, and his voice was so fragile that Jasmine wished she could hold it gently in her hands.
Later that day, Jasmine recounted everything to Trisha while they walked to the dorms. Trisha listened carefully, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Jas…"
"Yeah?"
"You're falling for him."
Jasmine froze.
Trisha didn't say it accusingly. She said it like a friend who saw the truth before Jasmine did.
"I know you won't admit it," Trisha added, "but I can see it. The way you look when you talk about him. The way you hurt when he hurts."
Jasmine inhaled shakily. "I don't want to. I really don't."
"I know." Trisha placed a hand on her shoulder. "But wanting and feeling are different. And this… it's dangerous, Jas. He's taken."
"I know," Jasmine whispered. "I know."
But knowing didn't stop her heart from beating the way it did. Didn't stop the ache she felt seeing him sad. Didn't stop her hope—fragile, reckless, impossible—that he'd someday see her too.
The next day, Claire posted a series of photos on Instagram. One with Andrew's arm around her shoulder. One with her kissing his cheek.
One with the caption: "Perfect birthday with my perfect boyfriend."
Everyone commented heart emojis.
Everyone wrote "#couplegoals."
Everyone believed the picture.
Except Jasmine. Because she had seen the truth behind the lens. She had heard Claire's words. And she knew-- the cracks in their "perfect" picture were only going to get deeper.
The next day, Jasmine sat on a bench outside the Humanities building, reviewing her notes before her 8 a.m. class. Or at least pretending to. Her eyes skimmed across words that no longer meaningfully sank in, not when her mind kept circling back to yesterday.
Andrew's voice. His expression.
The unopened cake melting beside him.
And the worst part is the way her heart broke for someone who wasn't even hers. She exhaled sharply and closed her notebook.
You're being stupid, Jas. Completely stupid.
"Mind if I sit?"
Her breath caught in her throat before she even turned.
Andrew.
She exhaled sharply and closed her notebook.
You're being stupid, Jas. Completely stupid.
"Mind if I sit?"
Her breath caught in her throat before she even turned.
Andrew.
He stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair slightly damp from either the shower or the humidity. He looked… calmer today. But there was a heaviness beneath his eyes she didn't miss. No one else would've caught it. But Jasmine did.
Because she was watching.
Always watching.
"Of course," she managed, scooting over.
He sat beside her, leaving a polite amount of space but not enough for her pulse to settle.
"You're here early," he said.
She chuckled lightly. "I'm always early."
"Right." His lips tilted in a small, tired smile. "You seem like that type."
"What type is that?"
"The responsible one. The hardworking one. The one who probably wakes up before the sun and actually eats breakfast."
She snorted. "I do not eat breakfast."
He laughed, and the sound loosened something in her chest.
"What about you?" she asked. "You're early too."
His smile faded just a touch. "Couldn't sleep well."
Jasmine hesitated. "Because of… yesterday?"
Andrew nodded faintly. "Claire apologized. Said she was just stressed and forgot about our plans."
Jasmine's jaw tightened. "And you believed her?" she asked quietly.
He looked at her, surprised. "Shouldn't I?"
Jasmine swallowed. "If it were me… I'd want someone honest."
Something flickered in Andrew's expression. Something unreadable. But before he could answer, his phone buzzed.
Claire.
Jasmine forced her gaze away.
Andrew stared at the notification for a moment, then put his phone back without opening it.
"You're not answering?" Jasmine asked.
He shrugged. "Not yet."
Few hours later....
Claire Dela Peña was good, good at smiling.
Good at acting, good at saying all the right things in public. By lunchtime, she was draped around Andrew like nothing had ever happened.
Jasmine saw them from the cafeteria door, Claire hugging his arm, chatting animatedly, while Andrew smiled politely but without warmth.
Jackson leaned in to whisper something in Andrew's ear. Probably teasing.
Travis laughed.
Claire giggled too loudly.
Trisha nudged Jasmine hard.
"Stop staring."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," Trisha said. "And honestly? It's impressive he hasn't noticed."
Jasmine sighed, pulling her tote bag closer. "It doesn't matter. He's taken."
Trisha frowned, softer now. "Just don't hurt yourself. Promise me?"
Jasmine wanted to promise, but before she could answer, a familiar voice called out behind them.
"Jasmine?"
Her heart dropped. Andrew was walking toward them, leaving Claire mid-sentence. Claire watched him go, confusion etched into her perfect face.
Jasmine froze.
Trisha's eyes widened. "Oh my God."
Andrew reached them, flashing a quick smile. "Hey. Are you going to the Literature lab now?"
"Huh?" Jasmine blinked. "Y-Yeah…"
"Come with me," he said. "I'm headed near there."
Before she could question why, he walked beside her.
Trisha followed behind, mouthing dramatically, WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
Jasmine had no idea.
They walked across the courtyard, weaving through students.
"Sorry about earlier," Andrew said. "Claire was… overwhelming."
Jasmine bit her lip. "You don't have to explain."
He laughed weakly. "It feels like I do."
They slowed as they approached the benches under the acacia tree.
"Can I ask you something?" he said suddenly.
Jasmine nodded.
"Do you… think Claire is acting weird lately?"
Oh no. Jasmine's chest tightened. Her steps faltered. This was dangerous ground.
Her throat tightened. "I think you deserve someone who doesn't make you question your worth."
Andrew stared at her.
Long enough for her heart to quicken. Long enough for warmth to creep onto her ears. Long enough to make her regret saying something so brutally honest.
But then—
"Thank you," he whispered.
Her breath hitched.