I woke up the next morning with that heavy feeling in my chest—the kind you can't name but you know is there. Kade had barely replied to my last message from last night, and when he did, the tone wasn't the warm, playful one I knew. It was shorter. Sharper.
Like he was annoyed about something he didn't want to admit.
I pushed the thought away. I always pushed things away when it came to him.
Classes were exhausting. My mind wandered constantly—mostly to the argument Kade and I had over Rav. It was like the conversation had taken a piece of me with it. Part of me felt guilty, another part felt confused, and the smallest, quietest part felt… irritated. I hated that I felt any of that.
At lunch, Lily kept watching me with that soft, knowing expression.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, nudging her shoulder against mine.
"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired."
She didn't believe me. I knew she didn't.
But she didn't push, and I loved her for that.
While we sat outside the cafeteria, I saw him again—Denzel.
He didn't look my way; he wasn't even trying to. He walked past with that calm, collected presence that made him stand out even when he said nothing at all. Sarah was beside him, laughing loudly, her energy bouncing off everything.
They were such opposites, yet somehow they made sense.
I didn't stare long—just a few seconds.
Just enough to recognize that, for some reason, I noticed him again.
And that bothered me.
Because I shouldn't be noticing anybody.
When I finally met up with Kade later in the evening, everything felt off. His mood was off. His energy was off. Even the way he hugged me was different—tight, possessive, like he was holding on too hard.
"You didn't text me much today," he said quietly, not looking at me.
"I was in class," I replied softly.
"Rav was in class too, and you texted him."
My heart dropped.
"Kade… Rav is my friend. That's all."
He scoffed. "You're too close. Everyone sees it."
I swallowed, irritation building at the edge of my ribs. "Kade, you're overthinking it."
"And you're not thinking enough," he muttered.
That sentence cut deeper than he realized.
We didn't fight—not really. But every part of the conversation felt like walking through fragile glass. I tried to explain, to reassure him, to soften every word so he wouldn't explode. But his jealousy hung in the air like a storm that didn't want to pass.
When I left him that night, my chest felt tight. Not in the butterflies way.
In the something-is-wrong way.
And as I walked back to my hostel, I saw Denzel again, sitting on a bench outside, earphones in, lost in his own world. He glanced up for half a second—just half—and then returned to whatever he was listening to.
No smile. No interest.
Just awareness.
I looked away immediately, embarrassed by how fast my heart moved—even though I didn't understand why.
The truth I didn't want to face settled quietly inside me. Something was changing.
Not with Denzel—he was still a distant stranger.
But with me.
And with Kade.
And with everything I thought was perfect.
I just wasn't ready to admit it yet.