Two years agoSophomore Year – Fall Semester
There's a kind of silence that only exists at 3 a.m. It's not really quiet—more like the world is holding its breath, waiting to see if you'll do something stupid.
Zoe lay on Eliot's couch, one sock on, the other somewhere on the floor, and a stomach full of cheap gas station candy and regret.
They had just pulled an all-nighter working on a group project for a class they both hated but kept taking together "for moral support." At some point, everyone else left. But she stayed. Of course she stayed.
Eliot had passed out halfway through his fourth energy drink, head tilted against the armrest, soft snores betraying how exhausted he was. His glasses were still on. His laptop was open to a Google Doc titled "Business Ethics Is A Lie."
Zoe just watched him.
Watched the way he breathed like he didn't know anyone was looking. The way his hair always flopped over his face when he slept. The little crease between his brows, even in dreams.
She'd spent the whole night pretending she wasn't falling in love with him.
And every minute made that harder.
She remembered when they met. Freshman orientation. He was the only person who laughed at her sarcastic rant about how icebreakers were emotional violence. Then he offered her half a Twix bar like it was a peace treaty.
They clicked instantly.
Which was the problem.
Zoe had always been the funny girl. The confident one. But with Eliot… it was different. It wasn't just banter. It was real. Easy. Dangerous.
That night, she'd almost told him.
She sat up, heart thudding like it wanted to jump out and confess for her. She stared at his sleeping face and whispered, so quiet even the walls couldn't hear:
"God, I think I love you."
But he stirred.
And like a coward, she laughed it off to herself. Tossed a pillow at his head and said, "You drool when you sleep, Main Character. It's tragic."
He blinked awake, smiled at her like she was the only thing in the room, and she tucked the truth back behind her teeth like always.
Because the truth was messy.
The truth could ruin what they had.
So she stayed the best friend. The sidekick. The clever comic relief in someone else's story.
And every time he dated someone else, every time he talked about crushes or love or loneliness, she swallowed a thousand words and smiled anyway.
Until now.
Until Scarlett. Until Rina. Until Dahlia.
Until she realized her story was slipping away, and she'd rather blow it up than be erased from it.
Present Day
Zoe lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. No music. No distractions. Just the aftershock of truth.
She had said it.
Finally.
And now she had no idea what would happen next.