The commons smelled like coffee and wet uniforms, and the low hum of conversation filled the space like static. Students filtered in, red-nosed and half-awake, the sting of winter clinging to their coats. The friend group was in their usual spot — loud, familiar, safe.

Mostly.

She spotted him before she saw the others.

Patrick Feely.

Laughing, his arm thrown lazily around a girl — his girlfriend. The same one he'd started dating just days after New Year's.

The same New Year's where he kissed her.

Under the fireworks. When everything was loud and bright and too much, and he held her like she was something breakable. He kissed her like it meant something. She’d smiled all night after. Thought about it every minute since.

And now here he was. With someone else.

The girl beside him leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth. He smiled into it. Not shy. Not guilty. Just… like it was normal.

Her stomach twisted.

She walked in anyway. Kept her spine straight and her smile tighter than usual as she reached the group. No one seemed to notice her stiffness — except Patrick.

His eyes locked on hers the moment she stopped. And for the briefest second, he shifted. Like he might move. Say something. Remember what they'd done.

She didn’t give him the chance.

She met his gaze, and this time, there was no softness in her eyes. No warmth. Just heat — quiet and sharp. A glare that said everything her mouth couldn’t manage.

Patrick’s smile faltered.

But she didn’t look away.

Let him feel it. Let him know what he did.

Because she hadn’t forgotten New Year's. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him pretend he had.