You're Beautiful

 “What was that all about?” Oliver asked before anyone could even settle, his eyes locked on mine like he deserved an answer.

I’d managed to slip out of the whole Slater King mess in the cafeteria and find my friends again. They were buzzing with questions of what Slater wanted, and why I was so p*ss*d, but I wasn’t ready to spill. Not yet. Especially not after he’d cornered me into keeping it quiet.

  “Chill it out, man,” Amaya snapped, visibly irritated. “You need to drop this whole overprotective best-male-buddy act. It's getting exhausting. You nearly dragged the school security to our table with that stunt.”

  “Seriously,” Lana chimed in, folding her arms. “Zephyria’s not a child. Quit it already.”

  “I know she’s not a child,” Oliver said, his voice low but firm. “But she’s only twenty. The last thing she needs is to get mixed up in some campus drama with someone like Slater.”

I swallowed hard, heart still pacing from earlier. I appreciated Oliver’s concern, I really did. But right now, it felt like he was peeling back layers I wasn’t ready to show.

  “Okay guys! Let’s all calm down now,” Freda said, stepping in like the mediator she always was. Trust her to come through when I was stuck between a rock and two loud friends. “Zephyria is clearly fine. Right?” Her eyes found mine, soft with concern.

  “Y-yeah… yes, I’m fine.” I lied with a little too much effort.

Freda nodded like she could hear the strain in my voice but wouldn’t call it out.

  “And… she’s going to tell us whatever it is when she feels like it. It’s not like we keep secrets from ourselves. So, Oliver, you need to calm down. Amaya, Lana, you two need to give Oliver a break. He’s only looking out for his friend, even if he does it like a bull in a china shop.”

There was a pause. A beat of silence thick enough to chew on.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed to Freda, meaning every syllable.

  “Now, we have classes to attend. The day’s not over yet.” She looped her arms through Amaya and Lana’s, already steering the energy away. “Come on, girls.”

Just before leaving, she leaned in, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and whispered, “Text me later. Seriously.”

Then she turned, dragging the other two with her, their voices already fading into the hallway buzz. I watched them go, wishing I could float away too. I turned to Oliver, already feeling a little guilty. I knew I should’ve stood up for him more whenever Amaya and Lana took turns using him as their personal verbal punching bag. But truth be told, sometimes he did do the most, for someone who was “just a friend.”

  "I'm sorry about that," I said as we continued walking toward the library, my voice softer now. He shook his head.

  "No, you shouldn't be. I'm used to Amaya and Lana being... you know?"

  "Ugh. I do know."

We both laughed, that shared kind of laughter that comes only after too many awkward moments and two years of knowing each other. For a moment, the air around us felt lighter. Oliver’s expression softened for a second.

  "But seriously though," he said, eyes narrowing a little, "Slater? Of all people? I didn’t even know you two were close."

  "We’re not. I can’t go into the details right now, but… it’s nothing. Really. I promise.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Alright. You know I’m just looking out for you. If you need me to come in swinging, just say the word.”

  "I know. And… thank you." I smiled. Desperate to steer the conversation into safer waters, I quickly added, "How’s Lindsay? Haven’t seen her around lately. Is everything okay?"

He sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair, messing it up in that annoyingly attractive way that made him look like a model in a late-night study ad. Ugh. I would never admit out loud how much I loved the attention Oliver gave me. He was one of the smartest guys on campus, handsome in a quiet, dangerous way, and already making waves with tech companies begging him for internships. That made him attractive too. A girl could lose her mind.

  “Lindsay’s fine. Probably somewhere around campus doing what Lindsay does best…”

  “Playing dress-up and looking pretty,” I finished for him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Seriously though, I’m not trying to sound like a shitty boyfriend, but lately… I don’t know. I keep questioning my life choices. Dating the prettiest girl on campus was fun at first, but now it just feels… hollow.”

  "You sound like Amaya right now," I teased.

  "I know. But you can’t blame me. I’ve let Lindsay use me for so long, and we both know she’s only with me for my brain, right?”

  “That’s not entirely fair,” I said gently. “I think she genuinely liked you. Maybe she still does. But people drift apart sometimes. That’s not a crime.”

He stopped walking as we reached the library doors, his eyes holding mine with a seriousness I wasn’t quite ready for. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s never like that with us, Zephy. You and I? We just keep getting closer. And you’re beautiful too, you know? Smarter than you let on. Maybe even more beautiful because you’re smart.”

Heat crawled up my neck, and I tried to hide the blush behind a scoff. “Please. Not as smart as you, Mr. Record-Breaker. Longest equation solved in Westbridge history, remember? Two whole years and no one’s topped it yet.”

He smirked. “What can I say? Some of us were born elite. We weren’t all created equal, Zephy.”

 “Oh my God, there goes his pride again,” I said, rolling my eyes and lightly punching his shoulder. “I’ve gotta go in. I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his brows. “See you after school? Motcha at the café downtown?”

  “Motcha sounds perfect.” I grinned, turning the knob and slipping into the cool, hushed space of the library.

And then it hit me, Oliver had called me beautiful. Twice.

That… that was new.

And if I wasn’t already confused before, I sure as hell was now.