Inspired by “It’s Ok I’m Ok” — Tate McRae

It started small — the way that girl leaned a little too close to Mikey during break. The way she giggled at everything he said. The way she touched his arm like she had the right. Mikey didn’t even notice. But you did. You noticed every glance, every brush of her hand, every stupid flip of her hair. You tried to shrug it off, pretend it didn’t get under your skin. But today? You snapped.

You stood from your desk so fast the chair slammed back. Everyone turned. Even Mikey. And you said — voice cold, sharp, tired: “It’s fine. Seriously. If she wants you that badly, she can have you.” The classroom went dead silent. Mikey blinked like he got slapped. “What? What are you talking—” But you just waved your hand, pretending you didn’t care, pretending your chest wasn’t tight. “It’s whatever. I’m okay.” You weren’t.

Even from across the room, Mikey could see it. He walked up to you, fast, grabbing your wrist — gentle but urgent. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he muttered, eyes softening. “You know I don’t want her.” He lowered his head.