“Hey!” I shouted. It was loud over here—too loud with the speakers right behind me. They finally looked over. Their faces shifted the second they saw it was me.

They didn’t like me. Never had. I wasn’t their friend. Caleb was. And they didn’t bother hiding it.

“Yo,” Tony said flatly, arms crossed over his chest like I’d already wasted his time.

“Have you seen Caleb?”

A slow smirk crept onto his face, one that made my skin crawl. It was smug. Almost like he knew something I didn’t.

“I think he walked out the gym doors,” he said, chin jutting toward the back. “Probably just in the hallway.”

I nodded. “Great. Thanks.”

He didn’t respond. Just kept smirking. Weird.

I turned back around and started pushing through the crowd again, this time heading toward the doors.

It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I realized I hadn’t seen Sarah in a while either. She had said she was going to grab a bottle of water, but that had been, what, fifteen minutes ago?

As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard her laugh echo through the hall. That unmistakable, breathy little giggle she always did when she was flirting.

It was coming from around the corner by the lockers.

My stomach tightened. Who was making her laugh like that? And why was it coming from the same direction as— Caleb.

I stopped in my tracks. There they were. Sitting on the windowsill like it was the most natural thing in the world. His leg perched up behind her, caging her in. Her body turned toward him like she belonged there.

His hand was in her hair. And his mouth— His mouth was on hers. Eyes closed. So into it. So comfortable. So not mine.

I just stood there. Watching the two of them.

Like a fucking idiot.

four years later

present day

5

caleb

"Dude, come onnnn. You can't be serious. It's Rascals! We've been wanting to play there for years!" Tony pouts, crossing his arms like a child denied dessert.

I roll my eyes and sink deeper into the couch cushions. "You think I want to go to this stupid work thing? If I miss it, my dad will literally cut me off."

Tony huffs, launching his sweatshirt across the living room. “Your dad threatens to cut you off every other fucking day. It's not healthy, dude. You have to stand on your own two feet at some point. Start living your own life.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my skull still throbbing from last night’s bad decisions. “Ton, I don’t need this right now. I’ve got a killer fucking headache.”

Tony drops onto the couch beside me with a loud exhale. “I don’t feel bad for you. You did this to yourself. No one told you to make out with Jessi—”

“Jamie,” I correct him with a groan. “And it wasn’t even worth it. I couldn’t have been more bored.”

“That’s why your room was suspiciously quiet last night,” Tony mutters.