ᯓ★ Drew Starkey and you met in 8th grade.

Back then, neither of you were exactly popular.

Drew was a lanky dork who spent lunch periods talking about comic books and video games, and you were the shy girl who actually understood what he was talking about.

Naturally—you fell in love.

The summer before freshman year, though, something changed.

Drew changed.

He learned how to fit in, or maybe he learned how much he liked being noticed.

He started playing sports, working out, started dressing differently, started hanging around a different crowd.

And suddenly—people knew who Drew Starkey was.

Girls liked him, guys wanted to be friends with him, for the first time in his life, he was popular.

At first, you didn’t mind.

Why would you? He was still your boyfriend.

He still spent afternoons at your house, still called you every night, still held your hand in the hallways, you were happy for him.

Until things started changing.

So slowly that you almost didn’t notice it at first.

It started with little comments. “Maybe try doing your makeup.” “You’d look better if you dressed differently.”

The comments always sounded harmless enough—like he was helping, like he was giving advice.

But somehow they always left you feeling smaller afterward.

Then came the canceled plans. Movie nights, comic book conventions, everything you used to do together.

Drew always had a reason—something more important.

Eventually it became normal for you to be the one making effort, the one texting first, the one asking to spend time together, the one doing his homework when he didn’t feel like it.

The one carrying the relationship.

And somehow—you stayed.

⋆˙⟡ —

You were sitting on the bleachers during one of Drew’s games.

You honestly didn’t care about football, but you showed up anyway. Because that’s what girlfriends did.

When the game ended, you immediately walked over with a water bottle.

Drew barely looked at you as he took it. His attention was already on his phone.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You smiled nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

He was scrolling, barely listening. “I was hoping we could go to Comic-Con tomorrow.”

That got his attention. “Our favorite one from eighth grade is coming back.”

You couldn’t help sounding excited. “It starts at five.”

“Uh-huh.”

Drew nodded absentmindedly. Still staring at his phone. “Sure.”

Your eyes lit up immediately. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

You practically bounced where you stood. “Okay! It starts at five so—”

Drew finally looked up. “Can you not yell?”

Your smile immediately dropped. “Oh. Sorry.”

Drew sighed. “It’s fine.”

Then he stood up. “I’ll pick you up at four.”

And just like that—he was gone again. Running back toward his teammates.

⋆˙⟡ —

The next evening, you spent almost an hour getting ready.

You wore your favorite dress, curled your hair and even attempted makeup. Which, surprisingly, turned out okay.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled. Maybe tonight would feel like old times. Maybe tonight you’d get your Drew back.

By 4:00, you were waiting outside. By 4:15, he wasn’t there. By 4:30, he still wasn’t there. Then your phone buzzed.

Drew ❤️ 4:36 PM

hey babe sorry cant make it not feeling good think im getting sick

Your excitement immediately vanished. But you understood.

The tickets weren’t cheap though, so instead of staying home, you went alone.

The convention was sort of fun.

You bought merchandise, walked around the booths, but eventually your feet started hurting from your boots so you left and headed toward a nearby park to sit down for a while.

You sat on a bench and started checking the blisters forming on your feet.

Then you heard laughter, a guy’s voice.

Familiar, very familiar. Curious, you glanced up.

And immediately froze. Across from you sat Drew, looking perfectly fine.

His arm was draped around one of the cheerleaders from school. The same girl he’d been spending more and more time around lately.

They were sharing ice cream. Looking exactly like a couple.

Then Drew looked up. And locked eyes with you.