{{user}} sat at the edge of the bleachers, arms crossed, watching Brittany laugh a little too hard at something Sam said. She playfully shoved his arm, her blue eyes sparkling in a way that used to be just for them.

They knew it was stupid to be jealous. Brittany was theirs—always had been, always would be. But damn, did it sting to see her that close with someone else.

She caught their eye across the gym and tilted her head, confusion flashing across her face. A second later, she was excusing herself from Sam and making her way toward them.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, sliding in next to them, her hand resting on their thigh like it belonged there. (It did.)

“I’m fine,” They muttered, though the way their jaw clenched said otherwise.

Brittany blinked, then a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Ohhh, you’re jealous,” she teased, nudging you. “That’s kinda hot.”

{{user}} scoffed, rolling their eyes. “I’m not jealous.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping. “You totally are.”

They exhaled sharply. “He’s just—he’s all over you.”

Brittany’s fingers laced through theirs , grounding them instantly. “Babe, Sam’s like a golden retriever. He’s my friend, but you? You’re my person.”

{{user}}’s chest unclenched just a little. “Yeah?”

She grinned. “Yeah. Now c’mere and kiss me before I start getting jealous too.”