I press my palms to my eyes until I see spots.
It’s nothing.
It has to be nothing.
Chapter 3
TheBasementispackedwith the kind of pulsing crowd that should make me feel alive. Low lights, bass thumping through the floor, and a room full of bodies swaying to whatever indie-pop remix the DJ’s spinning tonight. Jaden sits next to meat the bar, hip bumped against mine as he laughs at something the bartender just said. He loves to sit up here, even though he has a giant X stamped on his hand and I don’t like to drink.
Jaden’s energy catches more than one eye here, and he loves being in the spotlight. The way his curls catch the purple neon makes him look almost electric, but it doesn’t pull at me the way it should. He’s dressed to flaunt his slim body, wearing a shirt that’s tight enough to show the lines of his collarbone and flash his lower back when he leans forward to order.
I should be into it.
I’m not.
My phone’s face-down on the bar top, but I can still see the text I sent Eric forty-seven minutes ago like it’s burned into the back of my eyelids.
You good? Don’t overthink studying. Text me if you need a distraction.
He opened it immediately, like he’d been waiting on it, but he left me on read. I know what that means. He’s probably in his room, staring at the ceiling while he’s stuck in the same loop I’ve seen on his face ahundred times. Something is eating at him, and whatever it is makes him go quiet.
I know because I’ve spent two years learning every version of his silence.
The defeated one after a bad exam.
The frustrated one after a breakup or fight with his latest girlfriend.
The thoughtful one when he’s working out a melody in his head.
This one feels different.
Jaden slides a fresh soda my way and nudges my elbow. “You’re doing that thing again.”
I blink myself into the present, forcing a grin. “What thing?”
He gestures at the phone then takes a sip, watching me over the top of his glass. “You’re staring at your phone like it’s personally offended you. That’s the third time you’ve checked it since we sat down.”
“Habit,” I say, too quickly, then flip the phone over anyway when curiosity begs me to look for his response.
There’s still nothing.
Jaden’s smile fades, calling me out on the lie without a word. He’s not one for anger or fights, and things with him are always smooth sailing. We have fun, but there’s nothing explosive between us. Rightnow he looks tired. Resigned, almost, like he’s been waiting for this moment.
“No, that's not it,” he says gently. There’s no heat behind the words, but they land hard. “You’ve been half here all night. Every time your phone buzzes, you disappear completely.”
“It’s just a text,” I say, my jaw tightening as my defenses shoot sky high. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“It’s Eric, isn’t it?” Jaden asks as he sets his drink down and faces me fully. When I don’t answer, he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “It’s always Eric.”
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.
Because he’s not wrong.
It isalwaysEric. The first text in the morning, the last one at night, the random voice note at 2 a.m. when he can’t sleep, and the stupid memes that make me laugh harder than anything else all day.
“We’re just friends,” I argue. “Best friends, but that’s it. We’re comfortable. Familiar.”
Jaden’s expression softens, but there’s a sadness in it now. “Comfortable doesn’t make you check your phone like it’s a lifeline.Familiardoesn’t make your whole face change when his name pops up.” He leans back against his seat, arms crossed loosely. “You light up for him, Dmitri. All someone has to do is mentionhis name, and it’s like a switch has been flipped. I’ve never seen that look when you’re with me.”
