I slide into the seat beside him, my hand brushing his before pressing lightly against it, but Rafael doesn't notice because he's too busy pretending the world doesn't exist beyond the movie screen. My chest tightens the way it always does when I look at him; he's always calm, and there's something about that calmness that feels beautiful, almost untouchable. Before us, Anna's laugh drifts across the row, and for a second something sharp rises in my chest. She's too loud, too aware, and I hate how she can make him smile without even touching him, like some spell she has mastered and I haven't.
"Hey," I murmur, nudging his arm lightly, and he glances at me just enough to remind me I exist. "Hey, Spaghetti," he says with that small smile that makes my heart race. Around us couples whisper while others watch the movie Sinners on the screen, but we are just talking about one scene in there. Rafael leans back and says We should leave since the movie is about to end, anyway, which we did. Outside the hall he takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb slowly over the back of it, and it tickles a little, but I don't pull away. We walk until we are far from the crowd near the girls' dorm gate, then he hugs me tightly like he has missed me for years, and I hug him back because I have missed him too. We hadn't been talking much because I was sick and I didn't tell him; I thought he didn't care, but he came to see me during revision week, and somehow that was enough. It's okay as long as I'm the one. Being his girl is what I've always wanted. We're not perfect, but we work things out, and that should be enough. I wish I could tell him everything I feel, but I can't; I've always been firm about myself even with him. After a long hug, he kisses my forehead, whispers goodnight, and I whisper it back before stepping into the dorm. I go straight to my room since we left earlier than the others, change into my pajamas and slide into bed, but almost immediately Angel comes running in asking how it went with my boyfriend as usual. There isn't much to say because besides discussing the movie, he only asked about my sickness, and I couldn't find many words for that either, so I tell her what she wants to hear. She reminds me that next weekend is my birthday and says she hopes it will be amazing, and I smile because he always surprises me in ways I don't understand.
The next morning, I arrived in class a little late, as usual. I don't panic like the other students in my class. And then I saw him. Brandon has already filled my water bottle and laid out all the books I need for final physics revision. He always helps me with everything; it's like he knows what I need before I even say it, and I like how much he cares. He makes me laugh; he listens; he notices. He's my closest friend. With Brandon, I can open up about what I think and what scares me, but with Rafael, I can't, no matter how much I love him. I don't know why it's so hard to let him see the real me. As Brandon keeps explaining something I don't even care about, for the first time a strange thought crosses my mind—what if loving Rafael so fiercely doesn't mean he'll stay? The idea feels ridiculous, but it won't leave. A heavy feeling settles in my stomach, something deeper than jealousy, something quieter and more dangerous. Brandon nudges my notebook toward me and smiles, telling me I'll fail physics if I keep daydreaming, and I force a laugh because it's easier than explaining what's really happening inside my head. "You okay?" he asks softly, and I nod too quickly. He studies me for a second longer than usual, like he knows I'm lying. Sometimes I think Brandon sees through me more than anyone else does. Sometimes that scares me more than I want to admit. When the bell rings, he walks beside me out of class, carrying my books without even asking, like it's the most natural thing in the world. I watch the way he adjusts them so they don't slip, the way he slows down to match my steps, and I can't shake the thought that something about Brandon is… cute. Wait—did I just think that? I almost laughing at myself. Cute? Since when do I look at Brandon like that? But whatever… despite that, something warm inside me refuses to cool down. We reach the staircase and Brandon finally hands my books back to me, our fingers brushing for a second longer than necessary. "You've been different lately," he says casually, but his eyes are searching mine too carefully for it to mean nothing. I shrug and tell him I'm just tired, but he doesn't look convinced. "Is it him?" he asks quietly. The question hits harder than I expect. I laugh it off, telling him not to be dramatic, but my voice isn't as steady as I want it to be. Brandon exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. "You deserve someone who doesn't make you doubt yourself," he says, and for a second I don't know how to respond. I want to defend Rafael. I want to say he doesn't make me doubt anything. But the words get stuck in my throat. Because maybe he does. Maybe that's what this strange heaviness has been all along. Before I can answer, I see Rafael at the end of the corridor with Elliot. He's not looking at me. He's laughing at something Elliot said, completely relaxed, completely distant. And suddenly I feel foolish for overthinking everything. Brandon follows my gaze and goes quiet. "See?" he mutters under his breath, but I pretend not to hear it. I tell myself I'm imagining things. I tell myself Rafael hugged me last night like he meant it. I tell myself I'm the one he chose. But as I walk toward the dorms alone, watching Rafael disappear down another hallway without even glancing back, something inside me shifts slightly. Not broken. Not yet. Just cracked. And cracks, I've learned, don't make noise at first. They grow silently until one day everything falls apart. I tore my eyes off Rafael and said "Later" to Brandon, then tucked my books under my arm and headed to the dorm before going to breakfast. The dining hall is quieter than usual—maybe physics makes people dumb, I think, my eyes scanning the room without really meaning to, searching for Rafael. And for God's sake, I hate how he has changed his table from where we used to sit together. Now he sits right across from Anna, their chairs angled so they can look at each other, though thankfully I heard they don't talk anymore. I try to focus on my cup of porridge, finishing it slowly, but my gaze keeps drifting back to him. When I finally shove the last spoonful into my mouth, I slip out of the hall and head back to the dorm for a quick check of my notes, trying to shake the heaviness that settles in my chest. One last glance at my reflection in the dorm mirror, a deep breath, and I tuck everything into my bag before heading to the exam room, forcing myself to push thoughts of Rafael aside, even though I know they aren't going anywhere.
I step into the exam room, my heart still beating a little faster than it should, and find a seat near the window. Sunlight streams across my desk, highlighting the corners of my notes and making me squint. Brandon slides in beside me with a grin, setting my extra pens on the table. "Ready to fail?" he jokes lightly, and I force a laugh, shaking my head. The exam begins, and I try to focus on the questions, but my mind keeps drifting back to Rafael—how calm he always seems, no matter how anxious I feel. I push it down, bury it under formulas and physics problems. I glance at Brandon again; he's scribbling away as if nothing could touch him, and for a moment, I envy his focus.
Time stretches, each tick of the clock louder than the last, and I scribble answers almost automatically, my thoughts tangled in the unspoken feelings I can't share with anyone. The bell finally rings, and I close my notebook with a sigh of relief, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Brandon leans back, stretching, and catches my eye. "We survived," he mumbled, and there's a warmth in his smile that makes me think maybe surviving isn't just about exams.
I gather my things, my fingers brushing over the papers, and realize that no matter how much I want to ignore it, I'm caught in this mess of people. I spot Angie just leaving her room, and we fall into step together, arms brushing as we talk about the exam. We head to the library to find the chemistry and biology books we'll need for the next two days before finishing all the science subjects, and for a moment, the weight in my chest lifts, replaced with the quiet rhythm of happiness as I look at Angie, my best friend ever. She's usually so serious, but she's also the greatest sister I could ask for. I try to keep my face cheerful because I know she could immediately start preaching about Rafael, and I don't want drama—not in my relationship with him, not anywhere. I like peace. Just being quiet feels so much more soothing than arguing, even when I know I'm right.