The music pulsed through the walls, heavy bass shaking the floor as neon lights painted everyone in shades of red and blue. You were dressed in your favorite outfit, feeling cute and confident, drink in hand, laughter dancing on your lips. Spencer White was by your side, as usual. The two of you had come together, like always.

He looked effortlessly cool, leaning against the kitchen counter, his grin easy, his blonde hair slightly messy in the way you liked. He was magnetic tonight—more than usual. People gravitated toward him. Girls laughed a little louder when he spoke.

You tried not to notice. You had no claim on him, not really. But you couldn’t help the way your heart picked up every time he looked at you, like maybe—maybe—he saw you the same way you saw him.

Then she showed up. Some girl in a red crop top and a thousand-watt smile. She touched his arm when she laughed. He didn’t pull away.

You watched, stomach tightening. Spencer caught your eye once. Just once. He gave you a look that said it’s just fun, but it didn’t land right. Not when, five minutes later, you saw him kissing her in the hallway, her fingers tangled in his hair, his hands on her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.