Kyle had been doing a terrible job at hiding it.

It wasn’t like he wanted to make it obvious. But every time you walked past him in the hallway, every time he caught a glimpse of you laughing with someone else, something in his chest ached. And of course, everyone noticed.

Stan leaned in at lunch, smirking.

—“Dude, you’re staring again.”

Kyle scoffed, gripping his tray a little tighter.

—“No, I’m not.”

Kenny chuckled.

—“Yeah, you are.”

Before Kyle could argue, Cartman, the worst possible person to overhear, grinned.

—“Oh, this is precious.” He nudged Kyle’s arm. “Still crying over your little lost love, huh? How tragic.”

Kyle clenched his jaw.

—“Shut up.”

Cartman gasped dramatically.

—“Ooooh, touchy. Maybe if you had begged harder, they wouldn’t have left.”

Stan sighed.

—“Cartman, come on.”

—“What? It’s hilarious. He’s like a sad little puppy. Just look at him—” Cartman pointed at Kyle’s clenched fists. “He wants to say something to them so bad.”

Kyle glared at the table, pretending not to hear. But the heat rising in his face made it obvious.

He tried to ignore it. Really, he did. But his friends wouldn’t shut up.

Then, just as Kyle was about to snap, the cafeteria got quieter. He noticed the way Cartman’s grin widened.

—“Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Kyle frowned, confused—until he felt it. That familiar presence. That sudden, heavy silence from his friends.

He swallowed hard.

You were walking right past him.