The morning was a test of endurance. Layla sat behind her bedroom curtain, watching the tailpipe of Jade's car puff white exhaust into the chilly Montreal air. He waited ten minutes. Then fifteen. Every second he sat there felt like a heavy weight on her chest, but she didn't move. She waited until the engine roared and he finally peeled out of the driveway before she even reached for her backpack.
She arrived at school late, her hair a mess and her eyes still carrying the puffiness of a night spent crying. She didn't bother with makeup; she didn't bother with the "pretty new girl" persona. She looked distraught, and for the first time, she didn't care who saw her like that .
Work at Tim Hortons was the only thing keeping her grounded. The repetitive motion of pouring coffee and clicking the register was a moving meditation. She was halfway through her shift when the bell above the door chimed, and Sarah walked in.
Sarah didn't look angry. She looked tired. She waited in line like any other customer and ordered two large Ice Caps. When Layla's break started ten minutes later, she found Sarah waiting at a corner table.
They walked to the back, away from the noise of the grinders and the chatter of teenagers. The silence was thick, but it wasn't cold anymore.
"I'm sorry, Layla," Sarah said, pushing one of the frozen drinks toward her. "For the secrets. For the warnings that sounded like threats. For everything."
Layla took a long sip of the sugary coffee, feeling the brain freeze sharpen her senses. "I'm sorry too. I should have listened. I should have realized that your history with him wasn't a weapon, it was a map."
The floodgates opened. Layla told her everything, the "next level" in her bedroom, the "just chilling" in the cafeteria, and the hollow feeling of being ignored in public. Sarah reached across the table, squeezing her hand. Layla didn't care if Sarah was secretly relieved that things were crashing down with Jade; she was just happy to have her friend back. For the first time in weeks, the isolation felt like it was lifting.
After the shift, Sarah walked Layla home. They talked about the future, about Sarah getting a job at the mall so they could save for the summer together. It felt normal. It felt safe.
Until they reached the driveway.
Jade was sitting on his front lawn, his elbows resting on his knees. The second he spotted Layla, he didn't walk, he leaped over the small hedge separating their properties. His face was a mask of irritation, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Sarah.
"Always crawling under everyone's skin like a snake the second you sense something is wrong," Jade snapped, stepping into Sarah's space. "You just can't stay away, can you?"
Sarah's face flushed with a mix of old pain and new rage. She swung a fist at him, a desperate, unpracticed punch. Jade leaned back easily, and Sarah's knuckles only grazed his shoulder, the momentum sending a jolt of pain through her wrist.
Layla's heart dropped. She ran to Sarah, grabbing her hand to check the damage. "Sarah! Are you okay?"
"Think for yourself for once, Layla!" Jade barked, turning his fury on her. "Stop being a fucking puppet. She's just using you to get back at me."
Layla looked up at him. This wasn't the boy who had kissed her neck yesterday. This wasn't the "neighbor" who made her feel seen. This was a boy who used insults as armor because he didn't know how to handle his own guilt.
"Say another word," Layla said, her voice dropping to a deadly, quiet level, "and I'll make sure to take a tooth out. I'm not kidding, Jade."
The "death stare" she gave him actually made him blink. The silence stretched between them, raw and ugly. Without waiting for him to respond, Layla shoved him out of the way, hard, and led Sarah toward her front door.
Inside the house, the air was still and quiet. Layla went straight to the freezer, grabbing a fresh ice pack and handing it to Sarah.
"I'm so sorry for what he said," Sarah whispered, exhaling as she pressed the cold plastic to her swelling knuckles. "He... he has a way of making you feel like everything is your fault."
"You don't have to apologize for his shortcomings," Layla said, sitting down beside her. She felt a strange sense of peace. The "Chemistry" was gone, replaced by a clear, undeniable truth. "It's just Jade. He's a bug in the system I should have fixed a long time ago."
Sarah let out a small, tired chuckle. "A bug in the system. I like that."
As they sat in the kitchen, the boy on the lawn felt a million miles away. Layla realized that while the "Golden Boy" was hurt and the "Bad Boy" was toxic, the "Best Friend" was the only variable that actually belonged in her final equation.
After Sarah left, the house felt vacuum-sealed. The sound of the front door clicking shut echoed through the hallway, leaving Layla alone with the one person she had been trying to avoid all day: herself.
She walked into the kitchen and stared at the empty chair where Jade had sat just a few nights ago. She could still see the phantom image of him, shirtless, smiling, looking at her like she was the only thing in Montreal that mattered. She looked at her hands, the same hands that had shoved him in the driveway just an hour ago, and felt a confusing jolt of electricity.
She was furious. She hated the way he talked to Sarah. She hated the "just chilling" comment that still felt like a shard of glass in her chest. She hated that he had called her a puppet.
And yet, as she climbed the stairs to her room, she found herself walking to the window.
She stood behind the curtain, her heart hammering against her ribs, and looked down at his dark house. She was looking for a flicker of light, a movement, a sign that he was thinking about her too. It was an obsession, a glitch in her logic that she couldn't debug.
Why do I care? she whispered to the glass.
She knew she deserved the steady kindness of Liam or the uncomplicated loyalty of Sarah. But Jade was like a riddle she couldn't stop trying to solve, a dangerous code she wanted to crack even if it crashed her entire system. She missed the way his leather jacket smelled. She missed the rough heat of his palm against her cheek.
Seeing him today had ignited a fire of rage, but as she crawled into her bed, the bed that still felt like it belonged to both of them, the rage cooled into a hollow, aching loneliness. She pulled the covers up to her chin, trying to drown out the memory of his voice, but the silence only made it louder.
She had her friend back. She had her paycheck. She had her pride. But as she closed her eyes, all she could see was the dark, defiant look in Jade's eyes, and she realized with a sinking heart that "just chilling" was the furthest thing from the truth. She was drowning in him, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be saved.