My Bestfriend's Boy

Dating Ethan Blake was like discovering a new color.Before him, my world had been defined by routine: school, homework, time with Mia, the occasional family dinner, weekends that blurred together. Now everything was sharper, brighter, more intense.He showed up at my locker every morning with coffee—black for him, vanilla latte for me—and walked me to first period even though it was out of his way. He sat with me at lunch, his arm draped over the back of my chair like I belonged there. He’d text me during class, little things that made me bite my lip to keep from smiling: Mr. Henderson is wearing the same shirt as yesterday. Should we be concerned?The more time I spent with him, the more I realized there were layers to Ethan that most people never saw. The quiet guy in the gray hoodie was just the surface. Underneath, he was funny in a dry, unexpected way. He was fiercely protective of the people he cared about. And he had this habit of remembering things I mentioned in passing—my f

The next two weeks passed in a fog.I went to work, came home, sat in my room. I ate when my mom reminded me, answered when people spoke to me, moved through the motions of being alive without actually feeling any of it.Mia checked on me constantly, texting, calling, showing up at my door with takeout and movies. I appreciated it, but I couldn’t bring myself to engage. Everything felt heavy, muted, like I was watching my life from behind a pane of glass.“He’s an idiot,” Mia said one night, sitting cross‑legged on my bed while I stared at the ceiling. “He’s going to realize what he lost, and he’s going to regret it.”“Maybe,” I said, my voice flat.“Ava.” She reached for my hand. “Talk to me. Please.”I looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time in weeks. Her eyes were worried, her brow furrowed, and I felt a pang of guilt for making her carry my pain.“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “I thought we were solid. I thought he loved me.”“He does love you. He’s just sca

Mia's POV The first day of senior year, I woke up feeling like a stranger in my own skin. I stood in front of my mirror for a long time, studying my reflection. Same brown hair. Same blue eyes. Same face that Ava had trusted for seven years. But underneath, I was different now. Cracked. Something had shifted in me over the summer, and I couldn't find the seam to put it back together. My phone buzzed on the dresser. Ethan: First day. You nervous? Mia: A little. You? Ethan: More about you than me. Don't let her see anything. Don't let her see anything. That was the rule now. The unspoken agreement that lived in every text, every call, every stolen moment at the lake. We were together, but we were also not together. We were a secret wrapped in a lie, and the lie was named Ava. I drove to school with my hands tight on the wheel, running through my mental script. Act normal. Smile. Hug her like you always do. Don't think about his hands on you. Don't think about the way he said your na

Ethan's POVI didn't plan for it to happen.That's the truth, even if it sounds like an excuse. I didn't wake up one morning and decide to fall for Mia. It crept up on me, slow and quiet, like a tide that erodes a shoreline until there's nothing left.When i first met Ava, i was drwan to her. She was quiet in a wat that made you want to know what she was thinking. She had this way of looking at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. When she said yes to being my girlfriend, i felt like i'd won something i didn't know i'd be competing for.For six months, i was happy. Genuinely happy.But Mia was always there. She was the bridge between us, the one who introduced us, the one who cheered us on. And somewhere along the way, i started noticing her in a different way. It started with small things. The way she laughed, loud and unapologetic. The way she'd roll her eyes at my jokes but smile while she did it. The way she'd text me about something that happened i

AvaSpring arrived like a slow exhale, carrying with it the scent of blooming magnolias and the promise of something new. The days grew longer, the sun warmer, and somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like I was drowning.It happened gradually—so gradually that I almost didn't notice. One morning, I woke up and the first thought in my head wasn't Ethan or Mia. It was I have a history test today and I wonder what Priya and I are doing for lunch. Small things. Normal things. The things that filled the spaces where grief used to live.Creative writing club had become my anchor. Every Tuesday, I walked into room 204 and sat in the circle of mismatched chairs, surrounded by people who knew nothing about my past and cared only about my words. We read each other's stories, offered feedback that was honest but kind, and celebrated every small victory—a finished chapter, a perfect sentence, a character who finally came to life on the page.Priya had become my closest friend in the group.