It took my roommate a whole week of cornering Holden Pierce outside his frat house just to get him to give up his number for me. To thank her for helping me take that terrifying first step, I drained my entire summer internship savings to buy her the Prada bag she’d been obsessing over. Right after that, I threw my entire soul into texting Holden. I agonized over every word. By day, we shared the mundane little details of our lives; by night, we traded our deepest, quietest secrets in the dark. A year passed. We became the kind of intimately tethered friends who could talk about absolutely anything. Finally, I gathered every ounce of courage I had. "The weather is gorgeous tomorrow. Do you want to finally meet up?" Holden replied instantly. "Baby, didn’t we just say goodnight?" I stared at the glowing screen, my brow furrowing in confusion. The door to our apartment swung open. Blakely walked in, her arms wrapped around a massive bouquet of roses. Her cheeks were flushed, and she offered me a sheepish, breathless smile. "When I got his number for you?" she said, her voice dripping with an apologetic lilt. "I think I kinda forgot to mention I was asking for a friend." "He... he’s always thought the person he’s been texting was me." 01 The entire room went dead silent. The only sound left in the world was the rapid-fire pinging of my phone. Holden’s messages came flooding in, one after another: "Did I scare you with the sudden confession?" "I’ve been preparing for this for a long time, honestly." "Over this past year of talking to you, I’ve felt just how incredibly sweet and genuine you are." "At first, I thought I just saw you as a friend. But then, whenever I didn't hear from you, this physical ache would settle in my chest. That’s when I knew. I fell in love with you." "I’m so sorry for just tracking you down and springing this on you without warning - " But the thought remained unfinished. One by one, right before my eyes, the messages vanished. "Unsent." "I'm really sorry," Blakely said with a shy, giggling smile. She set the roses on her desk and pulled a velvet box from her Prada bag. She opened it, kept the necklace for herself, and casually tossed the matching earrings onto my bed. "Faye... I said yes to him," she hummed. "So, obviously, I can't have him texting you anymore." She crouched by my feet, resting her chin on her hands as she leaned on my knees, looking up at me with bright, beaming eyes. "I just gave him my actual number. I told him my old phone got hacked, so..." A cold, prickly sweat broke out across my forehead. My mind scrambled, violently rejecting the impossible reality unfolding in front of me. With trembling fingers, I typed a single "?" into our thread. Send. A second later. The text bubble stayed stubbornly green. Beneath it, a harsh, unforgiving notification: "Message Not Delivered." My heart didn't just break; it flatlined. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Just like that, Holden had blocked me. Erased me. Even though just last night, we had stayed up texting until 2 AM, baring our souls. Seeing me frozen, Blakely unceremoniously shoved the earrings into my palm. "Oh, come on," she said, her tone light and breezy. "Honestly, if I hadn't been the one asking for his number in the first place, Holden probably would never have talked to you anyway. You know how he is. Aloof. Untouchable. Half the girls on campus have tried and failed. Just take the earrings as a - " "Blakely," I said. My voice was hollow. I turned my head, physically unable to look at her. "We aren't friends anymore." Before she could manufacture a response, I pushed past her. Clinging to whatever shred of dignity I had left, I climbed into my bed and violently yanked the privacy curtain shut. In the dim, enclosed space, I scrolled through a year’s worth of history. In the beginning, it was a sea of blue bubbles - just me, trying so hard. Then, he started replying. A trickle at first. Eventually, if I went quiet for a few hours, Holden would be the one sending the "?" For the last three months, it was as if our roles had flipped. He was the one chasing my attention, initiating the late-night talks. I had been so incandescently happy. My chest had felt full of light. I thought I had poured every drop of bravery I possessed into getting to know Holden Pierce, and I truly believed it hadn't been in vain. ...But now. It was all shattered glass. I pulled the duvet over my head and wept until my lungs ached, eventually spiraling into an exhausted, feverish sleep. Early the next morning, a voice called out from the apartment doorway. "Faye! There’s a guy downstairs looking for you. Tall, lean, incredibly gorgeous. He said his name is Holden." 02 The sleep vanished from my veins instantly. I glanced over. Blakely’s bed was empty. I scrambled down, moving purely on adrenaline. A part of me wanted to dress up, to look perfect, but a larger part panicked at the thought of keeping him waiting. I threw on a heavy oversized coat, pulled a surgical mask over my face to hide my swollen eyes, and bolted downstairs. During that three-minute elevator ride, a thousand wild hopes bloomed in my chest. The most logical explanation? He spent the night with Blakely and realized her vibe, her way of speaking, completely contradicted the girl he’d been texting for a year. He figured it out. He was here to apologize... "Faye." His voice cut through the brisk morning air - crisp, resonant, beautiful. I tried to steady my erratic breathing, keeping my eyes cast downward. My gaze landed on his wrist. He was wearing the matte-black watch we had spent a whole night picking out together online. I let out a muffled, hesitant, "Yeah." "What is it that you want?" Holden asked. My head snapped up. I looked at him through my thick-rimmed glasses. His face was an unreadable mask of stone. His eyes, usually so warm in my imagination, were devastatingly cold. "Blakely was crying all night," he said, his voice laced with ice. "Because of you. I don’t know when you first found out about me, or when you developed this little obsession - " He let out a harsh breath, his brow furrowing as he raked a disgusted look over me. He was barely keeping a lid on his impatience. "Let me make this perfectly clear. The girl I want is Blakely. Now, and forever. That isn't going to change. So I’d appreciate it if you stopped taking your jealousy out on her. Do you understand?" Tears instantly blurred the edges of the world. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "Actually... the person who was texting you all year... it was me." The moment the words hung in the air, a cruel, mocking laugh dropped from above me. "Blakely called it," he sneered. "She said you were exactly this kind of person. She warned me you’d do anything to get your way - even lie and claim you were the one behind the screen." The look he gave me then was one of pure, visceral repulsion. He leaned in, his expression deadly serious. "So let me spell it out for you. Even if it "had" been you, I would never look at you twice. I only want Blakely - " I stopped breathing for a second. Then, a quiet, self-deprecating laugh slipped from my lips. I unclasped the matching matte-black watch from my own wrist - the one I’d bought to match his - and dropped it onto the concrete. As I turned my back to walk away, I heard a flicker of hesitation in his voice. "Faye - " 03 Like an idiot, my feet stopped moving. I couldn't help it. I had harbored a quiet, burning crush on this boy for two years. I had spent another entire year agonizing over every text, building a bridge between us. You can't just amputate that kind of love in a single morning. A foolish, desperate part of me thought: "If he asks, I'll pull out my phone right now. I'll show him the logs. I'll prove it." "Faye?" His tone had softened. It almost sounded... placating. He stepped up behind me, his voice dropping low. "Blakely just got her period. I bought her these pads, but I forgot to ask that other girl to run them up. Could you - " "Fine." I snatched the pharmacy bag from his hand and marched straight back into the dorm building. The last ember of hope in my chest fizzled out, turning to cold, gray ash. I realized then that Blakely was right. If she hadn't been the beautiful, popular girl stopping him on the sidewalk to ask for his number, Holden Pierce never would have given me the time of day. 04 I tossed the pharmacy bag onto Blakely’s bed. A few minutes later, she breezed in from the apartment next door, a trailing entourage of her new sorority friends in tow. "Faye!" she chimed. "My boyfriend is treating us all to dinner tomorrow night. You’re coming, right?" I didn't even blink. I kept my back to her. "No." The second the word left my mouth, a chorus of catty, hushed giggles erupted from her friends. "Oh my god, I told you. She’s still completely hung up on him." "Does she seriously think Holden would ever date "her"?" "If you hadn't practically begged him for his number for a week, a wallflower like her wouldn't even be on Holden's radar. He wouldn't know she existed." "Guys, stop it!" Blakely interrupted, her voice entirely too loud, dripping with faux reprimand as she walked over to me. "Faye isn't like that. She’s just having a hard time adjusting. Right, Faye?" She batted her wide, glossy eyes at me, slipping into that familiar, cloying pout she’d used on me a hundred times before. "My ex just cheated on me, and then out of nowhere, Holden confesses his love? It feels like destiny. You’re my best friend. I just really want your blessing." As she spoke, she purposefully let her cardigan slip off her shoulder, revealing the jagged, ugly scar near her collarbone. The scar she got "saving my life." My chest tightened. The guilt, as always, did its job. I looked away, swallowing the bile in my throat. "Fine." 05 I spent the entire next day forcing myself to swallow reality like a jagged pill. When evening came, I washed my face, skipped the makeup, and walked to the restaurant. When I arrived at the private room, Blakely and her entourage were in the restroom. Holden was sitting alone at the large table. He glanced up, his eyes sweeping over me with cold indifference. He gave a microscopic nod, then visibly pulled his hands off the table and leaned back, putting physical distance between us as if I were a threat. My heart still did a stupid, pathetic little stutter. Unbidden, memories of the old Holden - my Holden - rushed into my mind: "I think I just saw that stray cat you were feeding yesterday. Is this her?" "Thank you for listening to me vent last night. Are you really still not going to tell me your name?" "Please don’t cry. Just stay away from guys like that. He’s taking advantage of the fact that you have too big of a heart." ... I was snapped out of my daze as the door swung open and Blakely made her grand entrance, flanked by her girls. The moment her eyes locked onto me, her radiant smile froze. A flash of genuine panic crossed her face. "F-Faye... why didn't you text me you were here? I... I would have come outside to walk in with you." Before I could answer, Holden’s demeanor flipped like a switch. The ice melted into a warm, adoring smile. He reached out, pulling her hand into his, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "She’s a grown woman, baby. She doesn't need an escort. You’re cramping, you should just be focusing on yourself right now." He reached into his bag and pulled out a sage-green Yeti tumbler, placing it gently in front of her. "Ginger tea." The table erupted in a chorus of "awwws". Blakely flushed, playing the blushing girlfriend perfectly. She took the tumbler, but then, without thinking, asked, "Is this green cup yours?" Before he could answer, she coyly picked a chunk of pineapple off the fruit platter with a fork and held it to Holden's lips. "You are so sweet to me, Holden." Holden didn't move. Blakely’s hand hovered there, the atmosphere turning slightly awkward. She pushed the fork a little closer to his mouth. "He’s deathly allergic to pineapple." The words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. But I watched as the light in Holden's eyes suddenly dimmed. Something dark and conflicted passed over his face. In the blink of an eye, the mask was back in place. He smiled, opened his mouth, and ate the pineapple. His eyes crinkled in absolute adoration. "Thanks, baby." 06 Holden sat there, leaning lazily back in his chair, watching Blakely chatter and laugh with her friends. His fingers rhythmically, almost anxiously, tapped against the mahogany table. His eyes were dark and unreadable. I knew exactly what was spinning in his head. He was wondering how the girl who had spent three weeks helping him pick out that exact sage-green Yeti tumbler could possibly ask him whose cup it was. "I’m going to run to the restroom," Holden said, flashing a polite, effortless smile as he stood up. As he walked past, I caught a glimpse of what was clenched tightly in his fist. Benadryl. Blakely didn't notice a thing. As soon as the door clicked shut, she turned her benevolent, queen-bee gaze on me. "Faye, did you order yet? Seriously, get whatever you want. Holden said he’s paying for everything as a 'thank you' for putting up with my mood swings." I don't know what was wrong with me. I had been starving all day, but suddenly, the thought of food made me nauseous. "Whatever is fine," I mumbled. "Okay!" Blakely stuck her tongue out playfully and waved the waiter over. "We'll take all of this. Oh, and my friend here is deathly allergic to cilantro, so please make sure there’s absolutely none in her food. She’ll literally throw up." She looked up at the door, flashing a perfect, sickeningly sweet smile. Holden had just walked back in. She was putting on a masterclass in 'Look what a caring friend I am.' But Holden just stood by the door. His face went entirely blank, his eyes losing focus as a sudden, heavy realization seemed to hit him. 07 When Holden stepped out to take a phone call later, Blakely leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper for her friends. "We went out to the quad last night, and you guys... he kissed me! We were just looking at the stars, and he went totally quiet, stared at me for like two whole minutes, and just went for it. He was so romantic. He told me I was breathtaking and that I needed to stop being so insecure..." Amidst the squeals of her friends, she turned to me. The shy act dropped, replaced by cold calculation. She reached under the table and pulled out the Prada bag I had bought her a year ago. "I was actually going to tell Holden the truth," she whispered, her eyes locking onto mine. "But you saw it yourself... I’m the one he’s in love with. So, I can't just hand him over to you. Here. This is the bag you bought me for getting his number. I’m giving it back. We’re officially even." "Screeech." My chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor. I couldn't breathe in this room anymore. "I have to go," I choked out. I bolted for the door. I was moving too fast, completely blinded by tears. As I rushed down the hallway, I slammed hard into a solid wall of a chest. I didn't even look up. "I'm sorry," I sobbed, my voice shattering as I shoved past him and ran out into the night. 08 After that night, Holden and Blakely became the campus IT couple. Their romance was loud, public, and cinematic. Everyone across the university knew that Holden Pierce, the untouchable ice prince, had finally been tamed by Blakely Davenport. The guy who used to look through people was suddenly opening car doors and carrying her tote bags, sickeningly gentle around her. Blakely was completely drunk on the power and the romance. She didn't bother pretending to care about our fractured friendship anymore. As for me, I survived by burying myself in campus clubs, student government, anything to keep me exhausted so I wouldn't have to think about it. Until one evening. I was walking back to the apartment when I saw two silhouettes tangled together in the shadows beneath a large oak tree. I was going to keep my head down and walk past. But the voices anchored me to the sidewalk. "Baby, why are you mad? Why would I ever like Faye?" Holden sounded genuinely baffled. "I have strict boundaries. I don't even talk to other girls. You - " "I just hate knowing she wanted you!" Blakely whined, pushing him away slightly to pout. "We live in the same apartment. Whenever you come over, you’re going to see her... Why don't I just move out and we get a place off-campus together?" "I'm not doing that to you," Holden said, his brow furrowing in the moonlight. He looked at her, a strange, calculating look in his eyes. "For a whole year, you were so shy you wouldn't even tell me your name. Why are you suddenly rushing everything?" He took a deep breath, dropping his voice into a soothing, methodical cadence. "It’s not fair to you. I want to do this right. When we graduate, we can move in together properly. We have our whole lives. There's no need to rush, okay?" The autumn leaves rustled above them, making Holden’s voice sound impossibly crisp in the cold air. Then, slowly, deliberately, he said, "I do have a friend who's single, though." "He's gorgeous, but... he's arrogant, a little reckless, total bad-boy energy." Holden clicked his tongue. "Honestly, I have no idea if Faye could even handle a guy like him." Blakely let out an awkward, breathy laugh. "Yeah... that's a great idea." She muttered, "I'll tell her when I go inside. I'm sure she'll be "thrilled"." 09 Graduation was looming. I had already signed a lease for a small studio off-campus to get away from Blakely. So, to avoid any more drama in our final months, when Blakely pitched the idea of setting me up with Holden’s friend, I just flatly said yes. A few nights later, Blakely was on FaceTime with Holden. She yanked me into the frame, grinning maliciously. "Holden's friend is insane looking, Faye. Like, model gorgeous. I mean, his temper is awful, so you'll just have to deal with that. He actually got arrested in high school, but hey, I heard he hasn't put anyone in the hospital in a while!" On the other side of the screen, a guy was yelling in the background, his voice dripping with pure, aggressive irritation. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Holden? When have I ever wanted to be set up? Who told you to give out my number? I've told you a million times, I’m not dating anyone! Get that phone out of my face, I'd rather jump off a bridge than - " He shoved his face into the camera to yell at Holden. Then, our eyes met. The guy froze.
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