You were sobbing violently into your pillow. Your boyfriend, Tristan, had just broken up with you. He said it was because “we’re not right for each other.”

He knew how much it hurt you. You two had loved each other since middle school. Were you not enough? Did he find someone else? Why did it have to hurt this much?

Gosh, it hurt so bad. Why did it have to turn out this way? Even your best friend was disappointed in him. You two had been the school’s perfect couple. The pretty girl with a biker boyfriend who clung to her like she was his second air.

You hadn’t been to school for days now.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. He was the sweetest boy. How could you hate someone who always put you before himself? He gave you everything you could ever ask for. He was perfect. Maybe that was the problem.

You were at the store, dressed in your “I’m too lazy to dress” clothes. You were grabbing instant noodles for the third time this week. The cashier looked at you with pity, everyone knew how heartbroken you were after the breakup. Even your dad thought you and Tristan were going to get married someday.

You checked out your instant noodles and energy drinks, your eyes puffy and red from crying. When you picked up your bags and walked out of the store, something caught your eye. Something far too familiar.

Tristan’s motorcycle. His helmet sat on the handle. Your chest tightened instantly. You were about to walk over when you heard a soft laugh.

It was Tristan.

He was standing there with a girl, his arm around her waist as she giggled.

“I love you!” she said between laughs, just like you used to.

“I love you too, Frosting.”

Your heart stopped. That was your nickname.

Why did he call her that? What did she have that you didn’t? Why weren’t you good enough for him?