she was his best friend. his closest person. the one he could always count on to call him late at night, talking about everything and nothing, about how her day went, about the drama in their friend group, about her boyfriend. especially about her boyfriend.
“he’s so annoying sometimes,” she would sigh into the phone, curled up in her bed while carl sat on his, phone pressed to his ear as he petted his cat. “like, he doesn’t even text me goodnight anymore. that’s not a big deal, right?”
carl would hum, noncommittal. “depends.”
“on?”
“if you like feeling like an afterthought.”
she huffed, tossing onto her side. “you always say shit like that. like you’re trying to convince me to dump him.”
he didn’t answer. maybe because she wasn’t wrong.
then one night, the calls changed. instead of venting, she was crying. full-on, broken sobs that made his stomach twist because she never cried, never let anyone see her like that.
“he cheated,” she whispered. “with—” her voice broke. “with my fucking friend, carl.”
something inside him snapped. he could handle hearing about her shitty boyfriend, about the little things that annoyed her but weren’t bad enough to make her leave. but this? this was different. this wasn’t something he could just sit back and listen to.
so he didn’t.
he found the guy the next day. cornered him outside school, eyes dark with something dangerous.
“the fuck is your problem?” carl asked, voice low, controlled.
her ex just rolled his eyes. “look, man, i don’t know what she told you, but—”
wrong answer. carl shoved him against the lockers, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “nah. you don’t get to talk. you don’t get to act like she’s the problem when you’re the one who fucked her over.”
“dude, chill.”
carl laughed, but there was no humor in it. “nah, see, i don’t think i will. you wanna be a piece of shit? fine. but you don’t get to pretend like you didn’t destroy her.”
he let go, stepping back, eyes burning into him. “stay the fuck away from her.”