Leia had barely made it through the day. Her body moved from class to class like a ghost, and not even Miles's usual sarcastic texts had come through - though she hadn't exactly replied to the last three. She told herself it was because she was still sorting through the whole "my long-lost mom called me" thing, but deep down, she knew it was something else.
She just didn't want to deal with the Miles of it all right now. Her brain was too full, her heart already too cracked.
The final bell rang and Leia shoved her books into her backpack, eager to disappear before anyone could talk to her. She headed for the school's back exit - the one near the side parking lot - hoping to avoid the usual chaos at the front entrance.
That's when she saw them.
Miles.
And a girl.
Leia stopped short, hidden by the edge of the wall as she caught sight of him leaning against the gate. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and he was laughing - the kind of laugh he usually saved just for her. The girl was standing close. Too close. She was smiling up at him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger like a scene from one of those cheesy high school dramas. Miles said something and the girl touched his arm - casually, comfortably - and he didn't flinch away.
Leia felt her stomach drop like an elevator with cut cables.
She stood frozen, one foot half-raised like her body couldn't decide if it wanted to run or collapse. The air felt thick, and suddenly she couldn't hear anything except the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears.
He looked so... happy.
And she? She felt like a fool.
Had she really believed she meant something more to him? That maybe, underneath all the teasing and late-night texts and lingering stares, he felt something too? She was stupid to think she wasn't just a placeholder - someone convenient until someone prettier, cooler, less broken came along.
Leia ducked back behind the wall, heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't wait to see if they hugged or walked away together. She didn't need to.
She turned on her heel and walked in the opposite direction, taking the long way around the building, her jaw clenched and her eyes stinging.
She didn't cry.
Not yet.
But the ache spread like ink in water - slow, wide, and impossible to ignore.
When she finally got home, she went straight to her room without saying a word to her stepmother, who barely glanced up from her wine glass anyway. Leia shut the door quietly behind her, then locked it, pressing her forehead against the cool wood as she let herself breathe for the first time since she saw him.
Her backpack slipped off her shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thud. She crossed the room and collapsed onto her bed, curling into herself like she could fold up all the hurt and hide it in the spaces between her bones.
Miles hadn't texted.
Good.
She wasn't going to answer even if he did.
She didn't want an explanation. Didn't want to hear it was nothing or that the girl was "just a friend" because Leia had been "just a friend" for years, and now look where that got her.
She wasn't angry - not exactly. Just... tired. Tired of caring too much. Tired of hoping.
Tired of watching the people she loved choose someone else.
She buried her face in her pillow, her chest tight. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. One glance. Just one.
Miles 🤎:
"Where'd you disappear to after school?"
She stared at the message, heart twisting.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
But she didn't reply.
Instead, she clicked on his contact and hit Mute. Then tossed the phone aside like it burned her fingers.
If he wanted her, he could've said so. He could've made it clear. But he didn't. And now? Now she'd stop waiting.
The next few days, she avoided him like it was her job. She left class early, took different hallways, sat on the far side of the cafeteria, skipped the diner completely. She even deleted their chat thread - not because she didn't want to reread it, but because she *would*, and it would make her cave.
And she couldn't do that. Not when her heart already felt like it had been scraped raw.
Every time she saw him from across the school, her chest ached. He looked confused. Hurt, maybe. But he didn't chase her.
Maybe that was the worst part.
He didn't chase her.
And maybe that meant she really didn't matter all that much to him after all.
---
Miles didn't notice it at first. The first time Leia skipped waiting after class, he figured she had to use the bathroom or got caught up talking to a teacher. Normal stuff. She was weird like that sometimes - independent to the point of being annoying. But the second day? The third?
It started to gnaw at him.
She stopped showing up at the diner. Didn't sit in their usual spot in history. She wasn't replying to his texts - or if she did, it was a dry one-word answer hours later. Not even a sarcastic GIF. That was when he knew something was wrong.
On Friday, he waited outside her last class.
She didn't show.
He craned his neck through the crowd, scanning faces, but there was no short girl with a worn-out backpack and that messy brown hair he liked too much for his own good.
When he got home, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, headphones around his neck, music playing but not registering.
What the hell did I do?
That question had been looping in his brain all week. He replayed every conversation. Every joke he made. Had he gone too far with teasing her? Forgotten something important?
Was she mad about the homework thing? No, that didn't make sense - Leia wasn't the type to ghost over a math worksheet.
His phone vibrated, and his heart leapt.
Nothing. Just a spam email.
He stared at her contact on his screen:
Leia 🐰
He typed, "Are you okay?" and hovered over the send button.
Deleted it.
Tried again: "Did I do something?"
Deleted it.
In the end, he just tossed the phone onto his desk with a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Something was wrong, and she wasn't talking to him. That alone felt like a punch in the stomach. Leia always talked to him. Even when she was pissed - especially when she was pissed.
He missed her. Way more than he was willing to admit out loud.
By the time Monday came around, he was done pretending not to care. He got to school early and waited by her locker. Arms crossed, heart hammering in his chest.
When she finally rounded the corner, something in him deflated. She looked exhausted. Shadows under her eyes. Hoodie too big for her. Headphones on, but not really listening. She looked right past him like he wasn't even there.
"Leia," he said, stepping in front of her.
She stopped. Blinked. Her face tightened in that way she did when she was holding something back. She pulled off her headphones.
"What?"
That one word. Cold. Distant. Like she wasn't Leia and he wasn't Miles. Like they hadn't shared a hundred late nights and inside jokes and silence that felt louder than words.
"Okay, what's going on?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "Did I do something? Just tell me."
She rolled her eyes and gave a fake laugh. "You're seriously asking me that?"
"Yeah, I am. Because you're acting like I killed your cat or something."
She flinched.
Shit.
He stepped back a little. "Leia-"
"You know what? Just forget it," she said quickly, shoving her headphones back on and brushing past him like he was a stranger.
His chest burned as he watched her walk away.
He had no clue what was happening.
But he swore to God, if someone had hurt her - or said something - he was going to find out. Because whatever it was, she wasn't okay. And Miles hated that the person she shut out... was him.