texting loser!ellie that you have n!pple piercing in class 8
nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader
bored in english, you reply to a girl named E youโve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating appโwithout knowing itโs that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.
The cafeteria was filled with the same usual noiseโclattering trays, overlapping conversations, chairs scraping against tile. It buzzed with a kind of predictable rhythm, the same one it always did around this time.
You were sitting with your friends, half-listening to a story one of them was telling from over the weekend. The table was loud in the best wayโjokes tossed casually across plates, someone playfully flicking a crumpled napkin at someone else, laughter layered over laughter. It was the kind of easy noise that made everything feel a little lighter.
You were smiling. Laughing, even. Shoulders relaxed as you turned to the friend beside you to say something, voice still warm from the last joke.
Without meaning to, your eyes drifted past their shoulderโjust a casual glance across the room, unintentionalโand landed on the far side of the cafeteria.
Ellie was sitting at a table. Alone.
She was eating quietly, head slightly bent, posture slouched in a way that made her seem withdrawn, like the noise of the cafeteria didnโt quite reach her. Her gaze hovered somewhere over her tray, unfocused despite being aimed at the food.
Your friend beside you said somethingโmaybe a questionโand you nodded, not really processing it.
But your eyes drifted back to Ellie anyway. Finding her still in the same spot.
You turned back to your friend, snapping out of it as the noise of the table rushed back in.
โWhat were you saying again?โ you asked, smile curling easily back onto your faceโlike nothing had pulled your attention away at all.
The rest of your day unfolded the way school days usually didโpredictable, mildly exhausting, nothing worth remembering. You slid into your seats, tapped your pen against the desk while teachers talked, scribbled down whatever notes seemed useful enough to pass. You werenโt zoning out, exactlyโbut you werenโt clinging to every word either. You answered when you had to, smirked at a few classmates when something dumb happened, kept your head down just enough to avoid being called on more than necessary. It was routine. Easy to follow. Easy to get through.
โMann, I just wanna go home,โ you muttered, arms crossed as you leaned back slightly on the desk behind you. The late afternoon sun spilled through the windows, warm and drowsy, catching faintly on your shoes and the floor.
Your friend scoffed from her seat, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth. โJust say youโre excited to sext your little boyfriend like you do every night.โ
You rolled your eyes. โYeah, yeah. Boyfriend my ass. I just wanna go home and rot.โ You shrugged. โThis weekโs been really exhausting.โ
โMmhm,โ she hummed, still smirking. โWho is he, anyway? Long-distance or something? I never pegged you for that type.โ
You clicked your tongue. โI donโt have one, bitch.โ
The two of you were the only ones in the classroomโearly for English, the rest of the seats still emptyโwhen you both shut up, hearing the scrape of a chair from behind.
Ellie had just sat down in her usual seat near the front, dropping her bag next to her chair, her face unreadable.
You slid properly into your chair, the legs scraping lightly against the floor. Stretching your arms, you leaned back once before catching the way your friend was suddenly looking at you.
You raised an eyebrow. โWhat?โ
She leaned over, voice low like it was something juicy. โDo you know sheโs a lesbian?โ Her eyes didnโt bother being subtleโthey flicked straight toward Ellie at the front of the room.
You frowned, glancing in the same direction before turning back. โYeah? Why? I think everyone knows that.โ
Your friend shrugged, lips already curling into a smirk. โNothing. Justโฆ sheโs your book project partner, right?โ
You didnโt like her tone and the way her eyes stayed trained on Ellie, like she was trying to find something funny in how she sat alone.
โOkay?โ you said slowly.
She leaned closer, still grinning. โI mean, if it were me, Iโd be careful. You never know. Girls like thatโonce they get too comfortable, who knows what theyโre thinking. One sleepover and boomโโ
She snickered, clearly pleased with herself, like sheโd just said something clever.
For a second, you just stared at herโcaught off guard. Not in disbelief exactly, but in that stunned, flat way where your brain had to catch up to the words.
Your expression didnโt move, but something in you flinched. Like her voice had struck a nerve you hadnโt realized was raw.
Your face stayed still, but inside, it itchedโtight and uncomfortable. Annoyance, mostly. And something else you didnโt want to look at too closely.
You couldโve said something. A sharp comeback. A โwhat the fuck is that supposed to mean?โ Maybe even just a look.
You just watched her for another second, your expression flat.
She didnโt even notice. Too busy brushing lint off her sleeve and reaching for her lip gloss.
Then, like it had just occurred to her, she glanced up again. โWaitโdidnโt I see you talking to her at Stanโs party last month? Like, alone.โ
Your stomach did something.
You scoffed before your face could give anything away. โPretty sure you were too drunk to notice anything. You were busy making out with that guy behind the snack table.โ
She laughed, unbothered. โOh my God, donโt remind me.โ
But your hands were tense in your lap. Burning a little.
You turned away, settling into your chair just as the rest of the class filtered inโthe scrape of chairs and shuffle of backpacks filling the space where your words shouldโve been.
The class shifted when Ms. Alvarez finally stepped in, heels clicking lightly across the floor as she made her way to the front. A few last-minute whispers died down as she opened her laptop and greeted the room, her voice casual as always.
โAlright, weโre watching something today,โ she said, already clicking through her files. โItโs short, donโt get too excited. Documentary format. Take notes.โ
The lights dimmed. The projector buzzed to life. A faint blue glow spread across the ceiling tiles as the opening credits rolled.
You leaned back in your seat, letting your eyes adjust. You werenโt really watching.
Your gaze drifted forward.
She sat in her usual seatโsilent, the pale light from the screen brushing against the side of her face. It softened her expression, made the curve of her jaw look gentler somehow.
You couldnโt tell if she was paying attention or zoning out completely. Her arms were crossed on her desk, fingers curled loosely around her pen. From where you sat, she looked the same as alwaysโquiet, maybe a little tired, but that was just a guess.
You hadnโt looked at her properly in weeks. You werenโt sure what you were supposed to see.
Because it had been a month since everything happened.
The days blurred together after that Saturday morning, when you woke up in Ellieโs room, her sheets slightly tangled around your legs, sunlight leaking too brightly through the blinds, casting everything in a kind of raw, unfiltered light.
You hadnโt stayed long. Youโd pulled your shoes on quietly, and wore the same clothes from the night beforeโclean and warm from the dryer. The same ones you kissed Ellie in. The same ones you threw up in after.
You only muttered something vague about getting home and avoided her eyes the whole time. You didnโt even touch the breakfast she made. She didnโt stop you, letting you go like she already knew you wouldnโt stay.
You went home that morning with your chest tight and your head full. The guilt settled in fast and thick in your throat the whole walk back.
Youโd kissed someone else.
And even if you and E had never met in person, even if it was just messages and that weird, soft feeling when she called you hersโit felt like cheating.
The thought of E finding out made your stomach twistโnot just because she might leave, but because she might disappear in that way people do when something breaks and doesnโt get fixed. You were scared sheโd think it hadnโt mattered to youโthat whatever you had, whatever it was becoming, was easy to ruin. Like it didnโt mean enough to stay loyal to.
So you didnโt tell her. You couldnโt risk losing her.
Instead, you promised yourself youโd be better. For her.
You started avoiding Ellie the next week after that.
You still sat beside her in English, but the space between you had changed. You kept your eyes down, focused on your notebook, answering only when you had to. You didnโt lean over. Didnโt nudge her with your elbow. Didnโt steal her highlighter just to make her roll her eyes.
No more pointless bickering over outlines. No dumb doodles on the edges of her notes. You sat farther, spoke less, and hoped the shift wouldnโt feel as obvious as it did.
She glanced over a few timesโquiet, careful glances like she wasnโt sure if she was allowed to look. But you never met her eyes.
When Ms. Alvarez suggested quick partners for an activity, Ellie shifted beside you like she always did. Like she expected you to turn to her.
But you didnโt. You were already tapping the desk beside yours. โWanna pair up?โ
You didnโt see Ellieโs face that time. Only heard the scrape of her chair as she got up to find someone else.
Then a minute later, the chair slid again, and when you glanced, you realized she had come back. Returned to her seat, alone. Whether no one wanted to partner with her or sheโd given up trying, you didnโt know.
In the library, it was easier. There were rules thereโsilence, distance, structure. You gave short answers, kept your eyes on your notes, and eventually suggested splitting the project altogether. Said it would save time. Said it made sense. She nodded without questioning it, but her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the table like she was holding something back.
Then the project got pushed to next semester.
After that, you didnโt have a reason to sit beside her anymore.
You passed her in the hallway once. She smiledโsmall and unsure. You looked away before you could smile back.
The last time you passed her by the lockers, she looked like she might say something. Her lips slightly parted. But you walked past her before she could finish whatever it was.
Somehow, over time, it got easier not to talk. Easier to pretend none of it happened. Like youโd never kissed her at all.
And eventually, you two just stopped talking entirely.
The screen flickered dimly in front of you, the narratorโs voice muffled beneath the quiet hum in your head.
You blinked slowly, dragging yourself back to the present. The soft blue light from the projector washed over the classroom in pale strokes, casting faint shadows along the walls and across the edge of Ellieโs jaw. She hadnโt moved in a while. Neither had you.
You let out a quiet breath and shifted in your seat, eyes drifting back to the screen. You tried to focus, to absorb the last few lines of narration, but they never really landed.
A few minutes later, the credits rolled.
The lights came back on. Ms. Alvarez clapped her hands once, asking the class for quick thoughtsโsomething about tone, structure, the filmโs underlying message. A few hands went up. She then reminded everyone to submit a short written analysis before the end of the period.
You scribbled down a sentence youโd probably never read again, your pen moving more out of habit than purpose. When you glanced up, you caught the movementโEllie was already on her feet.
She was the first to stand, her chair scraping softly across the floor. She picked up her bag, slung it over one shoulder, and walked up to the front to hand in her work. Ms. Alvarez said something, but Ellie just gave a small nod and kept moving. She headed for the door without a word.
Something sudden and sharp stirred in your chest.
You didnโt think and just moved.
You jotted down the last thought like it mattered, like it wasnโt just an excuse to leave. Then you zipped your bag in one motion and slipped into the small crowd of students making their way out. You caught a glimpse of her hoodie disappearing into the hallway.
You looked up just in time to catch another glimpse of herโhoodie pulled up slightly, bag bouncing against her hip as she turned the corner. She was fast, slipping through gaps in the crowd like she didnโt want to be seen. For a second, you lost her completely in the blur of students pushing through the hallway.
Your heart kicked up. You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder and squeezed between two people mid conversation, muttering a quick โsorryโ as you ducked past them.
โEllie!โ you called out, louder than you meant to.
But she didnโt walk out either.
Instead, she turned left, toward the row of lockers.
You caught a full view of her thenโstanding at her locker, one hand already spinning the lock, the other adjusting the strap on her bag. Her shoulders were tight, her posture stiff in a way that made you wonder if sheโd heard you after all.
You quickened your pace, weaving through the last few stragglers in the hallway. Your legs worked faster than your thoughts, and by the time you reached her, you were slightly breathless.
Not just from half running. But from the fact that it was her.
She glanced up at the sound of your footsteps.
You stopped beside her, catching your breath as casually as you could manage. You were keenly aware of the way your chest rose and fell, of the heat in your face, of how stupidly obvious it felt to be this winded over just trying to catch up to someone you used to sit beside at some point.
Your voice came out softer and breathless than you expected.
She didnโt say anything right away.
She just grabbed a notebook from inside her locker and slipped it into her bag. The zipper caught slightly before she tugged it shut. Then she finally turned, her eyes flicking to yours for the briefest second before dropping again.
Your heart was beating fast. You werenโt sure if it was from the running or justโฆ this. Being here. Standing in front of her again after all the weeks of distance.
You cleared your throat quietly.
โHowโve you been?โ you asked, voice light. Casual. Like it was the kind of question you could throw out to anyone.
Ellie shifted her bag on her shoulder, gaze still angled somewhere near the lockers.
โIโm good,โ she said simply.
You nodded, swallowing down whatever that reply stirred in you. โThatโs... good. Iโm glad to know that.โ
There was a pause. You found yourself looking at her again. This close, you could see the soft crease between her brows, the faint smudge of tiredness under her eyes. The way her mouth twitched like she was holding something back. You hadnโt been this close in weeks. It felt strange. Too familiar and too foreign at the same time.
You cleared your throat again, trying to settle your breathing. You were still a little winded, embarrassingly so. You looked awayโonly for a secondโbut not fast enough to miss it.
The faintest flicker of something on her face.
A twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips. Like she could tell youโd run to catch up to her. Like she almost wanted to say something about it.
But then her expression shifted backโblank and steady.
โIs that all?โ she asked, voice level. โโCause I need to go home.โ
You blinked, a little flustered. โUhโyeah. Of course.โ You nodded quickly, like you hadnโt just jogged half a hallway for this.
Ellie gave a small nod in return, not quite looking at you. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she turned, slipping her hands into her hoodie pocket.
You watched her walk down the hallway, her steps steady and quiet. Her bag hung heavy on one shoulder, her head tilted just low enough that you couldnโt see her anymore.
The crowd moved around her like she wasnโt even there. Like she was just another part of the noise. You stood still, eyes following her until the space between you filled with bodies and noise and lockers slamming shut.
You canโt really blame her if she doesnโt wanna beโฆ friends anymore.
Or if you two werenโt even friends to her.
But to youโshe was. Or at least, something close to it.
Now, thereโs nothing left to hold you in place. No project keeping you tethered. No reason to sit beside each other, or talk the way you used to.
Youโre with different people.
With someone else, evenโthe same someone who got you into this mess with Ellie in the first place.
And maybe thatโs all it ever was.
Something that only existed because it had to. Because you were assigned the same book. The same seat.
You can't do anything about it.
But itโs true that for all the things youโd lost, you were meant to gain something else.
With E now, it felt differentโmore real, more close. It's just something you choseโagain and again.
Maybe Ellie knew why you pulled away. Maybe she understood it in the way she didnโt ask and didnโt try.
What you donโt knowโwhat youโve stopped trying toโis whether it ever meant anything to her.
Whether she ever cared, or just let it happen. Or If she noticed a part of yourself you had to set aside just to pretend it hadnโt happened.
You didnโt regret any of it anyway.
Not the space you let grow between you. Not even the way you kept your eyes down and your words tucked behind your teeth.
Because it ended this way for you.
Youโd do it all again, if it meant ending up here.
E made everything easier.
If things had ended differently with you and Ellie.
If only you hadnโt kissed her that night. And If you hadnโt let something fleeting pull everything off course.
Then maybe it wouldnโt feel so hardโlooking at her in passing, in those quiet moments when youโre so sure you just did something you need.
โYou know it's actually crazy how you're just in another city...โ you said, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
The line was quiet for a second but you knew she was there. You could hear her breathing. Faint rustling, the sound of her turning on her side. You pictured her like you always did. Hoodie on, bundled in a mess of pillows, phone pressed between her shoulder and her cheek.
You smiled to yourself and kept going.
โI used to imagine you were on the other side of the world. And I donโt know, I had this whole fake scenario in my head where Iโd show up out of nowhere. Surprise you. Youโd be in your room or walking out of class or something and thenโthere I am.โ
She let out a small breath on the other end. A sound that mightโve been a laugh if she hadnโt been so quiet tonight.
โI used to see those videos all the time,โ you added. โYou know the ones? Girlfriends surprising each other at the airport. Best friends showing up with flowers. And Iโd thinkโGod, imagine doing that for you. Just once.โ
โBut now youโre justโฆ in another city. Not even that far. Technically I could take a bus if I really wanted to. Though Iโd probably get lost halfway and end up crying in a gas station or something.โ
Still no real response, but she was there. You could feel it in the way the silence settled. Present and listening.
Your heart felt weirdly full.
โIโmโฆ really happy we get to do this now,โ you said. โI mean, I was happy before, even just texting you. That first week? I used to re-read our messages like a freak. You were the only good part of my day.โ
โBut now I get to call you. And itโs the end of my day, and I get to hear your voice, and it just... helps. Iโll be in class, barely surviving, and Iโll think, โokay, but Iโll call her later.โ And that makes everything easier.โ
You rolled onto your side, pressing the phone a little closer.
โAnd then we hang up, and I wake up tomorrow, and it starts again. And I like that. I like knowing youโll be there.โ
โYouโll always be here, right?โ
You sighed, eyes soft, the silence settling around your words.
โAre you still there?โ
There was a pause before a low hum filtered through the line.
You smiled a little, even though she couldnโt see it.
โYouโre really quiet tonight. Are you okay?โ
โJust tired,โ she murmured.
You bit your lip, unsure. Youโd been talking since you started the callโrambling, really. Filling the space with stories and soft admissions. Her silence hadnโt felt cold, but it was still lingering enough to make you wonder if youโd said too much.
You shifted on your pillow, ready to ask if she wanted to do anythingโwatch something together, listen to music, anything light enough to make her smileโbut before you could say it, her voice cut through the silence.
โI love hearing you talk.โ
Your mouth stayed slightly open, your question stuck somewhere between thought and breath.
The words came out of her soft. Almost hesitant like she'd been holding them in all night.
โOh,โ you said. And then, with a smile in your voice, โThatโs good. โCause I kinda do that a lot.โ
She didnโt reply right away, but you could hear itโsomething in her breathing. It was like her chest had loosened just a little.
โI could listen forever,โ she added, almost under her breath.
You turned your face into the pillow, cheeks warm.
โYouโre gonna make me annoying,โ you whispered. โMore than I already am.โ
You laughed, quiet and breathy.
You let the silence come back for a moment and didnโt say anything else for a while after that.
Some nights, the calls werenโt as long. Youโd talk about nothing in particular. The shape of clouds outside your window. What she had for dinner. Whether she thought moths were cute or creepy.
โDo you ever think about how weird it is that weโre justโฆ talking? In real-time?โ you said once. โLike, if someone told the 12-year-old version of me that Iโd fall in love through a screen, I think I wouldโve started crying.โ
E gave a soft laugh. โThatโs so specific.โ
โI mean it,โ you said. โItโs not even long-distance. Itโs a little stupid, actually.โ
You shifted, pulling the blanket closer under your chin. โStupid in the way it makes everything else feel less important. Like I donโt literally care about anything right now except us.โ
You breathed out, saying it felt like it had taken something from you. โAnd youโre...the most important person in my life, I think.โ
She didnโt say anything to that.
And maybe she didnโt need to. Because your chest already achedโtight and breathless like your heart had flinched at the sound of your own voice. Youโd meant it. Too much, maybe. And the silence on the other end only made it louder inside you. So after that, you tried to make her laugh.
Once, she made you guess what sound she was making.
โOkay, wait, guess this one,โ she said, then paused. A muffled crackle came through the speaker.
You frowned. โCrinklingโฆ paper?โ
You could hear the smile in her voice. โWhy the hell would there be leaves in my bed?โ
You laughed. โI donโt know!โ
โIt was my granola bar wrapper,โ she said smugly. โI dropped it on my notebook.โ
You grinned into your pillow.
There were nights when she just rambled. Mostly about science. Her mouth full of sleepy facts.
โDid you know breakups can literally alter your brain chemistry?โ she said one night, out of nowhere.
You blinked up at the ceiling, confused. โUm. No?โ
โItโs true,โ she said. โOur brains get used to a constant supply of neurotransmittersโdopamine, oxytocin, serotoninโbecause of attachment. And when that person goes away, your brain doesnโt know how to function anymore. Itโs like withdrawal. Actual neurological withdrawal.โ
โThatโs kind of horrifying.โ
โIt is,โ she said. โRomantic love is a drug. And coming down is the worst part.โ
โWhy are you saying this at midnight?โ
โI was just thinking about it,โ she mumbled. โLike, even if two people donโt talk anymore, the body still remembers. You still miss them. Even if you hate them.โ
You stared into the dark, suddenly cold. โDo you hate anyone?โ
โWould you tell me if you did?โ
โI donโt think I could ever hate you,โ she said softly.
There was something careful in her voice, as if every word carried weight. She always meant what she said.
She talked like that sometimes. Soft and sure. Like when she read to you out loud for no reason, it was one of her habit.
A passage from a book she liked. A line from a random Reddit thread.
One time, she recited an entire YouTube comment section just to make you laugh.
โPeople are unhinged,โ she said.
โYouโre unhinged,โ you told her.
She hummed. โBut Iโm funny.โ
You scoffed but didnโt disagree.
Some nights, you teased her just to hear her get flustered.
โYouโre kind of obsessed with me,โ you said once, casually, like it wasnโt the third time that week.
She scoffed. โYou wish.โ
โI donโt wish,โ you said. โI know.โ
She was quiet for a beat, trying not to take the bait. ThenโโYouโre delusional.โ
You grinned into your pillow. โAnd yet youโre still here. On the phone. At 1 a.m.โ
She exhaled through her nose. โBecause Iโm nice.โ
โBecause youโre in love.โ
She groaned. โOh my god.โ
You laughed softly, already satisfied.
โYou love me,โ you whispered.
She didnโt say anything. But she didnโt hang up either.
You then smirked, voice dipping into something wicked. โWanna see my pussy?โ
โJesus Christ,โ She muttered, flustered. You could hear her shuffle around like she was trying to sit up straighter. โWhy are you like this.โ
You laughed, shameless. โYou didnโt say no.โ
She paused, then her voice came out low.
โโฆTurn your camera on.โ
You let out a short, amused breath, your grin spreading.
โHuh,โ you said, all mock surprise. Then, tilting your head a little, voice syrupy-sweet. โKnew you wanted to see it, little freak.โ
Some nights are playful. Easy. You laugh too much. She pretends you're annoying. You pretend not to notice how she keeps staying on the line.
Some nights are like that.
But some nights are just you staring at the ceiling, waiting for her to callโthinking about how someday, maybe all of this will just blur.
What night she said what.
Which call made your chest feel like this.
Youโll forget which jokes made her laugh so hard she snorted, or when exactly her voice first dropped quiet and soft just for you.
But the feeling stays. You remember that part.
The glow of your screen in the dark.
The way your name sounded in her mouth, even when she was teasing.
Some nights, you didnโt even talkโjust breathed, the silence holding both of you together.
You donโt know how long any of it will stay clear.
But you know what it felt like.
Youโll always know that.
No matter what fades, what gets lost, what slips from your memoryโ
A call with her always ended your night. Her voice would come through warm and tired, the kind that made everything feel softer. Sometimes she'd laugh quietly, sometimes she'd admit something that made your chest ache a little in the best way. You didnโt need to fill every second with wordsโher silences were never empty. They were full of comfort, of presence, of knowing. Just being there, together, even apart, was enough.
And then, a text in class the next morning. Usually stupid. A blurry photo of her favorite big ass shirt with a hole in it. A cursed meme she found at 2 a.m. A dramatic โmiss uโ like you hadnโt just talked eight hours ago. Youโd send back something equally unhinged. Or a photo of your lunch tray. Or the side of your face with the caption โthinking abt u but in a hot way.โ
You dumped your pictures into the chat like it was a journal. Youโd scroll through it sometimesโjust to see how many versions of your face sheโd heart-reacted to.
It felt easy. God, it felt easy.
Some days sheโd say something stupid just to make you mad. Like how she swore cereal was better with water. Or that naps were a waste of time. Or that spiders deserved to be respected as roommates. Youโd fight her for a full hour about it, caps-locked rants and everything, and sheโd just keep poking, keep grinning through the screen.
And then some days sheโd be so soft it broke something in you.
Like when she sent the package.
It was huge. Taped up like a child had done it. And inside, a human-sized teddy bear, chocolate youโd once mentioned in passing, a sweatshirt that smelled like her, and a note that said absolutely nothing importantโjust:
โI saw this and thought of you. Also you said you were cold. Also I wanted to win.โ
You cried in your room, holding a six-foot bear.
Later that night, she watched you unbox the rest. You flipped the camera to show the chaosโribbons everywhere, candy on the floor, your new favorite hoodie half onโand she just sighed and said:
Youโd never felt so loved by someone who hadnโt even touched you yet.
She made playlists. She sent links to songs with the timestamp already set. She wrote, โthis part sounds like us,โ and youโd cry over some lyric you wouldโve missed if she hadnโt pointed it out.
There was one night she made a slideshow.
Yes, a literal slideshow.
She titled it โtop 10 reasons ur the most annoying person alive but i love u anyway.โ And it even had transitions and background music.
There was a slide just for your laugh. Another for the way you said her first name when you were sleepy. One with screenshots of your textsโher favorite typos, the time you accidentally called her โbeeโ instead of โbabeโ and she decided that was her new contact name.
She sent you flowers sometimes. Not always for a reason. Just because she walked past a bouquet that made her think of you. Theyโd arrive midweek, wrapped in soft paper with little notes tucked insideโusually something dumb, like โyouโre prettier than theseโ or โdonโt die pls.โ
Once, she mailed you a LEGO set she built herself. It was a tiny cafรฉ, complete with miniature plants and chairs that didnโt stand up straight. She signed the box with, โfor our first date spot in an alternate universe.โ You kept it on your desk like it was priceless. Like it was proof that sheโd been there, in some way, building things for you with her hands.
When her packages arrived, you always had the maid hide them for you before your parents could see. Tucked behind the laundry basket. Slipped under your bed. Buried in your closet. Youโd wait until the house was empty and then carefully pull it all out like it was sacred.
You always tried to match it. When no one else was around. You slipped little things into your envelopesโa tiny sketch you doodled during math, a packet of candy she couldnโt find at her local store, a bracelet you made out of string and hope with both of your initials, a spritz of your perfume on the corner of a letter you wroteโjust enough to carry a piece of you across the distance because you wanted her to know how you smelled on the days you missed her most. A photo she once said made you look โtoo hot for your own good.โ
You wrote on the back of that Polaroid in your smallest handwriting. Just three words.
And even if you never mentioned it after, you knew she saw it. Because that night, she texted you nothing but a comma, and you understood what it meant.
It was a month of every small thing happening.
The kind of days that blurred together, but left behind a warmth you could still feel on your skin. Some mornings sheโd say something that made you laugh all day. Some nights sheโd hum a song you hadnโt heard in years and it would stick with you until sleep took over. Sometimes you missed her so much it made your chest feel too tight, like your ribs werenโt built to hold that kind of longing.
When it got cold at night, and the ache of missing her crept in despite the call youโd just had, youโd put on the last hoodie she sent and pull the sleeves over your hands. Youโd bury your face in the fabric like it could bring her closer. Then youโd hug the teddy bear until it almost hurt.
When you got sick, and your throat hurt too much to talk, you didnโt hang up. You just laid there, quiet, eyes closed, phone pressed to your ear while she sang softly on the other endโgentle voice wrapped around the faint sound of a strumming guitar.
โBaby, baby, there will always be..โ
โA space for you and me, right where you left it...โ
You felt the words more than you heard them. Her voice came through like a hand on your back, slow and steady, grounding you in a world that kept spinning without her.
โI donโt want things to change, I pray they stay the same... always.โ
Her voice turned softer, almost as if she didnโt mean to let it out,
โAnd I donโt care if youโre with somebody elseโฆโ
โI'll give you time and space, just know I'm not a phase..โ
You didnโt understand why your chest ached when she said that. But something about the way she lingered on itโlike it hurt to say, but more to keep inโmade your fingers curl around the blanket a little tighter
You wanted to tell her you felt the same. That you didnโt need anything big or loud. Just this. Her voice in your ear. Her name in your mouth. Her breath between your sentences. A whole love, tucked into the spaces in between.
You didnโt say anything for a while after she finished singing. You just stayed there, listening to the soft background noise from her end of the line. It felt like proof that she was still there with you, even if neither of you said anything. You thought about how much you already knewโhow you could recognize her voice, how you could tell what kind of mood she was in just by the way she breathed between wordsโbut you still didnโt know her face.
You hesitated before speaking, your voice softer than before.
โCan I ask you something?โ
You heard a faint shift, the sound of her adjusting the phone. She didnโt answer right away, but you could tell she was listening.
โI know Iโve never really asked this before. I didnโt want to make you feel weird about it or anything. I guess I justโkept waiting.โ
You took a breath, your chest feeling too tight.
โYou told me youโre taller than me. That your hairโs short, and you wear glasses. You said your eyes are brown and such. I know all of that.โ
You looked up at the ceiling, like it would help you find the right words.
โBut I still donโt know your face.โ
You felt it more than you heard it, the shift in the air. The pause that followed was careful.
You kept going, slower now, afraid she might slip away if you pushed too hard.
โIโve memorized your voice. Iโve kept every note you sent. I sleep in the hoodie you gave me. Iโve listened to the songs you said reminded you of me, and every time, it feels like Iโm holding a new piece of you. I really do love all of it. I really do love you.โ
You swallowed and closed your eyes.
โI just want to see the person Iโm falling in love with.โ
And maybe that was why you showed up anyway.
You got there early. You checked your hair in your phone screen a dozen times, smoothed it down even when it didnโt need it. You ordered something you didnโt even like, just to have something to hold. You chose the corner table near the windowโjust like she said.
Every time the door opened, your heart jumped a little, stupidly hopeful.
And every time, it wasnโt her.
She never actually said she was coming.
But she sent the name of the cafรฉ. The time. No words, no promisesโjust that.
And that had to mean something, right?
The cafรฉ slowly emptied. The light outside dimmed. Your drink turned cold, and still you sat there, trying not to keep glancing at the door. Eventually, even the hope started to feel embarrassing. And when you finally looked around and realized you were the last one left, the only thing that remained was the ache in your chest.
You stayed longer than you should have. Just in case.
Now you're home. The lights are off. Your phone screen glows in your hand.
You keep staring at the last long message she sent.
Your chest aches. It breaksโover and overโevery time you read it again.
You canโt even do anything about it anymore because she deleted her account like it was her final choice, like sheโll never think of undoing it, and come back.
You wipe the wave of tears streaming down your face, your breath catching in broken sobs.
All that just for her to say sorry and I love you at the end.
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