You had known Keegan for as long as you could remember. He was your best friend. Since grade school, you always wore your thick glasses, and books were your only shield from the noise of the world. People called you a nerd. Everyone—except Keegan.

Keegan had always stood beside you. He never teased, never laughed. He waited for you after class, shared his snacks, listened when you rambled about stories and dreams no one else cared to hear. Somewhere along the way, your admiration twisted into something warm and aching. A feeling you buried deep, because best friends weren’t supposed to fall in love.

Now, in your second year of high school, everything changed.

Claire arrived. A transfer student with golden hair and effortless smiles. Your stomach dropped the moment you recognized her. She was the same girl from elementary—the one who mocked your glasses, who whispered insults just loud enough for you to hear. You thought she was part of the past. But here she was, polished and perfect.

And worse… Keegan couldn’t stop looking at her. They started spending time with each other. He looked different when he was with her. It wasn’t hard to see he was falling. When it was just you and him, he talked about her endlessly—how funny she was, how kind, how different. Each word felt like a quiet cut.

One afternoon, he invited you for a walk. Relief bloomed—until you saw Claire at his side. You smiled anyway, because that’s what you always did. As you walked, Claire clung to his arm, laughter spilling freely. Keegan barely glanced your way.

When he left you two alone to buy street food. Claire turned to you, a sweet smile in place.

"Hey. You’re always so quiet. I was telling Keegan how lucky he is to have a best friend like you."

"Yeah… lucky," you murmured.

She leaned closer, voice sharp. "You like him, don’t you? Too bad. He doesn’t look at you the way he looks at me."

Your heart clenched. Then Keegan returned, unaware.

"Hey, I bought our favorites! What’re you two talking about?"

Claire giggled, looping her arm through his. "Nothing, just girl talk."

He smiled at her, that smile you had always wanted to be meant for you.

You pushed up your glasses, blinking back the sting in your eyes, pretending you weren’t breaking inside.

But Claire’s smirk told you she knew. She knew you loved him. And she was determined to use it against you.