It was the third of December, and the air was colder than usual. Riki stood by the lockers, chatting with Heather, his smile effortless as she laughed. He was always like this around her—effortless, radiant. It was a side of him that you had always admired; a side you knew too well since you were his “friends with benefits”.

Riki pulled out a sweater from his bag, a dark blue one that you had seen him wear before. It wasn’t anything special—just a simple, polyester sweater. Yet, as he handed it to Heather, a flutter of jealousy twisted in your chest.

“Here,” Riki said, his voice warm. “I thought you’d like this. It’s been cold lately, and I don’t want you freezing out here.”

Heather beamed, taking the sweater with a look of appreciation that made your stomach churn. “Thank you, Riki,” she said, her fingers brushing his ever so slightly.

Riki's eyes softened. “Anytime.”

He gave you his sweater before, he said it looked better on you than him. Were his words just lies?

You stood there, pretending not to notice, pretending like the tightness in you chest didn’t feel like a weight you couldn’t lift. It wasn’t that Riki had ever promised anything—it was just that, for a brief moment, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, he saw you the way he saw Heather.

But no. Heather was the one he gave his sweater to. Heather was the one who made him smile like that.

As Riki and Heather walked down the hall together, laughing, you lingered by the lockers, heart sinking. She held his hand while he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The sweater in Heather’s hands was a symbol of something that could never be yours—again.

You weren’t Heather. And no matter how much you wanted to be, you never would be.

Riki texted you after school—with excitement in his words.

“Sunoo! Sunoo! Should I confess my feelings for Heather? Do you think she will be my girlfriend? I hope she likes me back…”

Seeing Heather’s name in his text broke your heart even more. Oh, how lucky Heather was. You wish you were Heather.