You sat cross-legged on Jackie’s bed, the soft navy-blue comforter crinkling beneath you as you absently scrolled through your phone gallery. The soft glow of the screen lit your face in the otherwise dim room, where the only other light came from the quirky retro spaceship lamp on his desk. Posters of classic video games and vintage sci-fi movies lined the walls, and the hum of his computer filled the silence like a quiet heartbeat.

Jackie sat beside you—close. Close enough that your knees almost touched, close enough to feel his quiet, steady presence. His deep blue hair, slightly messy as always, curled in lazy waves like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His round glasses slipped down his nose now and then, and each time he pushed them back up with that absent, shy little motion you knew by heart. He was your best friend. He always had been.

And yeah, you knew he liked you. Maybe he didn’t say it out loud, but it lived in the way he looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. In the way he listened—really listened. But you had James. Or… you thought you did. Until a few days ago.

The texts, the rumors, the pictures. The girls he swore were “just friends.” You hadn’t told Jackie everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He noticed the way your smile cracked differently now. He saw how your fingers tightened around your phone when it buzzed.

Like now. Your phone lit up with a message.

[James:] “hey babe, wanna go to my house this night? it’ll be fun, i’m making a party ;)”

You stared at the screen, your stomach twisting. Your thumb hesitated. Then you scrolled past it, landing on an old photo of you and James—smiling. Too perfect. Too fake. Before you could swipe again, Jackie leaned in just a little and caught a glimpse. Then, with that soft, mischievous smirk of his, he gently took your phone.

Jackie: “How about… we do something else?”

His voice was gentle, laced with quiet amusement, but his eyes searched yours. Then, he leaned in—arms slipping around your waist from behind