The first time you meet Ari, she hugs Brooks for too long.

Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough for you to.

“Finally,” she says dramatically, still holding onto his arm afterward. “You’ve been ignoring me all week.”

Brooks laughs. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Yeah, for like ten minutes before you ran off with your girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

The word sounds strange coming from her.

You’ve only been dating Brooks for four months, but everyone already knows. Mostly because he makes it obvious. His hand is always on your waist. He walks you to class every morning even when it makes him late. He looks at you like you’re something precious he accidentally found and still can’t believe is real.

Apparently, he never acted like that with anyone before.

Especially not Ari.

You learn about their history through bits and pieces from the friend group.

Back in high school, Brooks was pathetic over her.

That’s the exact word his friends use.

Pathetic.

He used to carry her books, buy her coffee, answer every late-night call. If Ari needed something, Brooks was there before she even asked. Everyone assumed they’d end up together eventually.

Except Ari never wanted him.

“She friendzoned him so hard,” one of his friends tells you during lunch. “I honestly thought he’d never get over it.”

But he did.

And Ari hates it.

At first she hides it well.

She acts sweet to your face, complimenting your outfits and asking questions about your classes. But every compliment feels edged with something sharp.

“You’re so quiet,” she says one day with a smile. “Brooks usually likes louder girls.”

Or:

“Wow, Brooks changed a lot for you.”

Like it’s an accusation instead of a compliment.

The worst part is how she acts with him.

Constant touching. Leaning against his shoulder. Stealing fries off his plate. Inside jokes that make you feel like an outsider standing just beyond the circle.

And Brooks is oblivious.

Not flirtatious. Not encouraging her. Just… used to it.