Chapter 66 Chapter sixty-Two
Demi's point of view
I didn't mean to notice at first.
That's the thing I keep telling myself, anyway, that I wasn't looking for Alex, that I wasn't tracking him the way I used to, that my eyes didn't automatically find him in every room out of habit.
I tell myself I was just walking through the hallway like anyone else, thinking about class, about how tired I was, about nothing important at all.
And then I saw him.
He was leaning against the lockers near the science wing, one arm draped easily around Claire's shoulders.
She was laughing at something he said, her head tipped back slightly, her body turned fully toward his like there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Alex smiled at her.
Not the polite smile he gives teachers or strangers.
Not the tense one he's been wearing lately.
But instead he had a real one on his face.
Something in my chest cracked so quietly I almost missed it.
I slowed without meaning to.
My feet kept moving, but my body felt heavy, like I was walking through water.
I told myself not to stare. I told myself this was what I'd asked for, space, distance.
But my eyes betrayed me anyway.
Claire reached up and brushed something imaginary off his collar, fingers lingering.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't pull away.
He just leaned into the touch like it belonged there.
Like she belonged there, with him.
I looked down at my hands, suddenly unsure what to do with them.
They felt useless, empty. I shoved them into my pockets and kept walking.
People passed me, laughing, talking, living their lives like nothing monumental was happening.
Like my heart wasn't quietly shattering in a school hallway on a random Tuesday.
I'd known this would happen.
I'd prepared for it, or at least I thought I had.
I told myself that once Alex had a girlfriend, that once he chose something clear and public and undeniably straight-like he claimed to be-, that it would be easier to let go of this stupid feelings I had for my best friend.
Instead, the certainty hurt worse.
At lunch, they sat together.
Of course they did.
Claire leaned into him like it was second nature now, her knee brushing his under the table.
He handed her his fries without her asking.
She smiled at him like he'd done something sweet.
I used to know all his sweet habits, hell, in private I used to be on the other end of them.
The way he'd give me the last bite even when he pretended he didn't want it, whenever we got my favorite food.
The way he'd glance at me first when something funny happened, like checking to see if I was laughing too so I can join him to share the laugh.
Now he didn't look my way at all and when he did, he would quickly avoid my gaze.
I sat with Chris and Noah, sometimes Kyle would sit with us-only because of Chris- but most times he would sit with Alex and the others. Whenever they would talk to me, I would just nod, smile and laugh when appropriate.
I got really good at pretending again.
Though most times Chris could see my pretence.
Every so often, I felt it, that pull to look back at him, Alex.
Sometimes I did.
Sometimes I regretted it.
Once, I caught him glancing in my direction.
Just a flicker of his eyes, gone almost instantly.
Our gazes didn't meet though.
I didn't know if that was worse or better.
After lunch, I went in the bathroom for a few minutes longer than necessary.
I stared at myself in the mirror, at the dark circles under my eyes, at the way my mouth seemed permanently set in something between a frown and a brace.
"Get it together Demilade" I muttered.
My reflection didn't look convinced.
The thing no one ever tells you about heartbreak is how boring it can be.
It's not always sobbing or dramatic confessions or moments that feel cinematic.
Sometimes it's just this dull, constant ache that settles into your bones.
Sometimes it's watching the person you love move on in a hundred tiny, ordinary ways.
Alex walking Claire to class.
Alex laughing at her jokes.
Alex being gentle with someone who wasn't me.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted.
Not just physically, but emotionally also.
Like I'd spent hours holding something fragile together with my bare hands.
I avoided the parking lot. I didn't want to see them leave together. I took the long way home-since I couldn’t focus on driving at the moment-, headphones in, music loud enough to drown out my thoughts.
It didn't work though.
When I finally got home, my mom looked up from the kitchen.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah" I said automatically.
She frowned. "You look tired Demilade." She sounded sad.
"I am" I didn’t know why but lying to her seemed unfair, especially when I know it will only worry her.
She nodded, accepting it.
“Thank you for telling me” she said as she brought her hand to my face.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” She added but when I shook my head no, she just gave me a small smile and nodded and then she went back to what she was doing.
I escaped to my room and closed the door behind me, sliding down against it until I was sitting on the floor.
That was when it hit me properly.
Alex wasn't confused anymore, not on the outside, at least.
He'd chosen the path that made sense to him, one that fit neatly into the world.
He had a girlfriend. He had approval. He had a version of himself he could hold up and say, See? This is who I am.
And I was the thing he'd left behind to get there.
I pressed my face into my hands and let myself feel it for once.
The sadness.
The jealousy.
The anger I never let surface because it felt unfair to him.
"I loved you" I whispered to the empty room.
I still did.
That was the cruelest part.
I'd said I was trying to unlearn it, but love didn't work on a schedule.
It didn't disappear just because it wasn't wanted anymore.
It lingered in habits, in memories, in the way my heart still reacted to the sound of his laugh.
But watching him with Claire taught me something I hadn't fully understood before.
He wasn't choosing her because she was better than me.
He was choosing her because she was easier-at least that’s what I’m telling myself-.
And maybe, just maybe that didn't mean I was unlovable.
But unfortunately the thought didn't heal me. Not really.
But it steadied something inside my chest.
I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, the same kind Alex used to stare at, I realized distantly.
I wondered if he felt this too, this strange, quiet ache that didn't have a name yet.
If his smile with her ever faltered when he was alone.
If his heart ever felt too heavy for no clear reason.
If he ever thought of me and didn't know why it hurt.
I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes.
If I’m being honest watching Alex with his girlfriend hurt.
Not because I lost him,
but because I saw how much of himself he was still hiding.
And I wondered if one day, when he finally stopped running.