The hallway stretched long and loud with the pulse of school between periods—chatter bouncing off lockers, footsteps slapping tile, a teacher calling out a warning about tardy slips.

She didn’t hear it.

She was too busy trying not to look up. Too busy pretending like she didn’t feel him before she saw him.

Will Grayson III.

Confident, cold, beautiful. His arm slung around the shoulder of a girl she didn’t recognize—some flawless brunette who laughed like she’d already decided she owned him. And maybe she did.

Because she wasn’t her.

She held tighter to the boy beside her—her parents’ choice. Clean-cut. Respectful. Safe. A checklist more than a person. He was saying something about his history paper. She couldn’t focus.

Then it happened.

They passed.

And Will stopped walking.

She did too, instinctive. Like her heart hit the brakes harder than her body did.

Her boyfriend glanced at her, confused, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Not from Will.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.

Just looked at her—like he was remembering the taste of goodbye. Like he was furious she’d gone, but even more furious that she wasn’t his to begin with.

His new girlfriend tugged his arm, clearly annoyed, but he didn’t move.

He just stared at her with that storm behind his eyes. That question he never got to ask: Did you mean it? When you said it was over?

She couldn’t say yes. She couldn’t say no. All she could do was stare back and ache.

Because her parents didn’t just take her away from him. They took them away from each other.

And now they walked the same halls, with the wrong people, in a life that didn’t fit.

Pretending they didn’t still want what they’d been forced to lose.