You’d always been in the background of your brother Freddie’s tight-knit circle—Cook, JJ, Katie, Emily, and then, of course, Effy Stonem. You weren’t really in the group, just orbiting around it because of Freddie. He was protective, maybe too protective sometimes, which meant most of his friends didn’t look at you twice.

Except Effy.

Effy was different. She had that quiet, dangerous energy about her, like she could see through everyone and still stay unreadable herself. For a while, you thought you were imagining it—her eyes lingering a second too long, the sly little smiles she’d give only you, the way she’d drift out of conversations with everyone else just to sit beside you.

It started small. A cigarette shared on the back steps while Freddie was inside. Effy leaned against the wall, hair messy in the streetlight, her voice low and raspy as she asked questions about you Freddie never bothered to.

Then it was skipping out on a party together, sneaking away to some quiet spot where she could let the mask slip for a while. You realized Effy didn’t just want to be around you—she needed to. You made her laugh, something even Freddie rarely managed. And when you talked, she actually listened, like your words mattered.

But Effy was Effy—reckless, magnetic, complicated. And Freddie was Freddie—your brother, the one who trusted you to stay clear of his chaotic world.

Which left you caught between two secrets: the pull you felt every time Effy leaned just a little too close, and the guilt of knowing Freddie would lose his mind if he found out his best friend was falling for you.

The night it all shifted, Effy showed up at your door, no warning. Her eyes were wild, mascara smudged, but when she looked at you, it wasn’t chaos—it was relief. You let her in, and when she kissed you, it was soft, hesitant, like she’d been waiting a long time for permission.