It was never supposed to happen.

You and Tod Waggner had always had that kind of chemistry—the kind people notice but don’t say out loud. Jokes that lasted too long. Looks that lingered. A comfort that felt dangerously easy.

But you were dating Alex.

And Tod was his best friend.

The night it first happened came after a fight with Alex—one of those arguments that leaves you feeling unseen, unheard, exhausted. You’d gone to Tod’s place just to cool off. Just to talk.

You told yourselves it crossed a line by accident.

Afterward, you sat on opposite ends of the bed, hearts racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said immediately. “It won’t,” Tod replied, running a hand through his hair. “Alex can never know.”

You both meant it.

Until you didn’t.

Because it kept happening.

Every time you swore it was the last. Every time guilt hit harder afterward. Every time Tod looked at you like he hated himself for wanting you anyway.

Sometimes he’d laugh it off. Sometimes he’d go quiet. Sometimes he’d whisper, “We’re awful people,” and pull away—only to pull you back again the next time.

Then came the afternoon everything broke.

You were in your room, nerves fried, when you heard voices downstairs. Your parents laughing.

“Alex is here!”

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could move, footsteps came down the hall. Your door opened.

Alex stood there, smiling—until his eyes drifted past you.

To the floor.

A black T-shirt, half-hidden near your bed.

Tod’s.

Alex’s smile faded slowly. “Why… do you have Tod’s shirt?”