Student Week turned the whole campus into a carnival.
Music everywhere.
Posters everywhere.
People everywhere.
It should've been fun — and parts of it were — but something in me stayed tight, like I was holding my breath the whole time.
Lily noticed.
Rav noticed.
Even I noticed. But I kept moving.
Mounting Tension With Kade
Kade kept texting constantly:
"Where are you now?"
"How much longer?"
"Can you come over after? I miss you."
The attention felt warm at first… then hot… then suffocating.
Whenever I wasn't with him, he was waiting.
Whenever I was with him, he wanted more.
And every time I told him I needed to focus on Student Week events with Lily, he answered with the same soft, needy tone:
"Okay… but don't stay long."
I didn't want to disappoint him, so I kept bending myself smaller and smaller.
One afternoon, during rehearsal for the fashion walk, Lily grabbed my wrist and dragged me behind the stage curtain.
"What's wrong with you?" she whispered.
"Nothing," I said, too quickly.
Lily raised a brow.
"Your smile is fake today. And don't argue — I know your real one."
I looked away, pretending to fix my heel strap.
"Kade again?" she asked gently.
Her voice wasn't accusing.
Not dramatic.
Just… concerned.
I didn't answer.
And that was an answer on its own.
She hugged me — short, tight, protective — before telling me to breathe and just enjoy the rest of practice.
But the truth?
Enjoying anything felt like cheating on Kade.
Later that day, I ran into Rav again near the department's booth.
He wasn't smiling this time.
He didn't tease me or joke like he usually did.
"Are you good?" he asked.
"Yes," I lied.
He watched me like he could see straight through the lie.
Then he said quietly:
"You don't look like yourself lately. If you ever need space… take it."
It was the kind of advice that wasn't controlling
— which made it hit even harder.
I walked away feeling seen in a way I didn't expect.
Kade called.
When I picked up, he said he wanted me to come over.
"I can't," I said gently. "It's late, and I have to be up early."
He sighed, long and disappointed.
"Fine."
It shouldn't have made me feel guilty.
But it did.
Everything with him did.
That guilt stayed with me until I fell asleep
It started small — a shift, almost too light to notice.
I and Rav weren't suddenly best friends.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't suspicious.
It just… became comfortable.
Between classes, he'd walk with me partway to my department.
He'd wait with me outside a lecture when the room was too crowded.
He cracked quiet jokes that only made me laugh because I understood his dry humor.
Lily noticed immediately.
"You're glowing again," she teased one day.
I gave her a look.
"Not because of Rav!"
"I didn't say anything," she laughed. "But I mean… you look like someone who has more than one thing making her happy."
I shrugged it off, but I didn't deny it.
I liked having someone around who wasn't demanding something from me every minute.
The first time Kade saw me and Rav walking together, he didn't say anything.
He just watched.
His eyes followed me like he was calculating something he didn't like.
Later that day, when I met him near the library, he didn't hug me the way he normally did.
He just said,
"Since when are you and Rav this close?"
I blinked.
"We're not 'this close'… we're just friends."
He didn't look convinced.
"Friends," he repeated slowly, like it was a word he didn't trust.
I brushed it off, smiling at him, linking my arm in his.
But his expression didn't soften.
Over the next few days, it became obvious.
Whenever I mentioned Rav — even casually — Kade's whole mood shifted.
"Rav said the assignment is due tomorrow."
— silence.
"I saw Rav at the cafeteria today."
— a tight smile.
"I'll be studying with Rav and two others later."
— "Why him? Why not someone else?"
I tried to reassure him.
I told him it was nothing.
I told him he was the one I cared about.
But instead of calming down, Kade grew sharper around the edges.
It happened after class.
Me and Rav were sitting on a bench outside, going through notes before the next lecture.
He said something — I didn't even remember what — and you laughed.
That was the moment Kade appeared.
I didn't notice him at first.
Rav did.
His expression shifted, and he said quietly, "Your boyfriend looks upset."
I turned — Kade was standing there, jaw tight, eyes cold.
Rav stood up politely.
"Hey, man."
But Kade didn't look at him.
His eyes were on me.
"Can we talk?" he said, voice flat.
I followed him to the side of the building.
The moment we were out of earshot, he said:
"I don't like this."
"Like what?"
"You and him."
My heart dropped.
"Kade… we're just friends."
"Friends don't look at each other like that."
I frowned.
"Like what?"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"He likes you. It's obvious. And you— you're giving him space to try."
I stared at him, stunned.
"That's not true."
"It is true," he insisted. "And I'm not going to act like I'm okay with it."
His voice was loud
I tried to explain.
Tried to tell him he was overthinking.
Tried to get him to calm down.
But no matter what I said, Kade kept repeating the same thing:
"I don't want you around him."
And for the first time since the start of our relationship…
I didn't know how to respond.
Because this time, the problem wasn't Rav.
And it wasn't the friendship.
The problem was Kade.