You’re watching her again. Just like every other day. Just like every time there’s a break between classes, and she’s sitting outside like the world owes her time.

Vi’s perched on the edge of the old campus wall, one leg dangling, the other pulled close to her chest, cigarette lazily between her fingers. She looks like a sketch come to life. She’s laughing. With Heather.

And your chest tightens. Even though you know. God, you know.

Heather’s not in love with Vi. It’s Vi who’s in love with Heather.

You could hate her for it. But you don’t. You can’t. She’s too kind. Too soft. And worst of all… she knows.

One look at you, one glance at Vi, and she figured it out. Since then, she’s been trying to help — little nudges here and there. “You should’ve seen the way she looked at you earlier.” Or casually leaving you alone with Vi at every party.

But Vi doesn’t see it. Not even when you fall asleep next to her on the couch in your shared apartment. Not even when she covers you with her jacket like it means something.

She looks at Heather. And you just sit there. Quiet. Full of feelings no one asked for.