The air in the rehearsal room feels like it’s choking me, thick with tension and the faint hum of fluorescent lights that buzz like my nerves. It’s the last symposium rehearsal, and tomorrow’s the real deal... the Literature Symposium, where I’m supposed to stand up and act like I’ve got it all together.
Spoiler: I don’t.
My hands are sweaty, my heart’s doing backflips, and I’m pretty sure my stomach’s staging a full-on rebellion. Ethan’s here. Professor Davies is here. And me? I’m just trying to survive this without losing my mind.
I clutch my notes, the edges crinkled from how hard I’ve been gripping them, and force my eyes to stay on the page. Not on Ethan, sitting at the table with his stupid perfect suit and that calm, professional mask he’s been wearing since he shattered me. Not on Professor Davies, perched beside him like some queen bee, her sharp heels tapping the floor every time she shifts. I can’t look at them. If I do, I’ll see it all again... his “I don’t want this” echoing in my skull, her smug little smile when the campus gossip mill crowned them the new It Couple. Four days. Four freaking days since he dumped me, and now they’re dating? My chest tightens just thinking about it.
“Alright, Aria,” Professor Davies says, her voice slicing through the haze in my head. It’s crisp, all business, but there’s this edge to it like she’s daring me to mess up. “Let’s run through your closing section one more time. Tomorrow’s the big day, so it needs to be flawless.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Got it.” My voice comes out steady, thank God, because inside I’m a total wreck. I shuffle my papers, take a deep breath, and launch into it, pretending I’m just a normal student, not the girl whose heart got stomped on by the guy sitting five feet away.
“The unreliable narrator doesn’t just shape the story, it forces us to question truth itself,” I start, my words clipped, mechanical. “In modern media, like The Catcher in the Rye or even TikTok trends, it’s a mirror for how we navigate a world where reality’s up for grabs. It’s not just storytelling, it’s survival.”
I keep my eyes on the wall, the clock, anything but Ethan. But I can feel him. His presence is like a heatwave, pressing against me, making my skin prickle. I sneak a glance, just a flicker and catch him watching me, his jaw tight, his hazel eyes locked on mine for a split second before he looks away. My heart lurches, and I hate it. Hate how he still does this to me, even now.
Professor Davies nods, scribbling something on her notepad. “Better. Your pacing’s improved, but you’re still rushing the end. Slow it down, Aria. Let the weight sink in.” She glances at Ethan, her lips twitching into a tiny smile. “What do you think, Ethan?”
He clears his throat, shifting in his seat like he’s uncomfortable. “It’s solid,” he says, his voice low, controlled. “You’re hitting the key points. Just… yeah, slow down a bit. You’ve got this.”
His words are professional, textbook professor, but there’s this crack in them like he’s trying too hard to sound normal. I clench my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. You’ve got this? Seriously? Few days ago, he was holding my hand by the river, telling me I was worth it, and now he’s acting like I’m just some random student? I want to scream, to throw my notes at him and demand answers, but I don’t. I can’t. Not with Professor Davies right there, her eagle eyes darting between us like she’s waiting for me to crack.
The rehearsal drags on, every second a slow-motion train wreck. Ethan’s all calm and collected, giving feedback like nothing’s wrong, but I catch these little things, his fingers tapping the table, the way he avoids my gaze for too long. Professor Davies is weird too. She’s not as snappy today, more… polished, but every now and then, she’ll lean closer to Ethan, her hand brushing his arm, or laugh a little too loud at something he says. It’s subtle, but it’s there, this flirty vibe that makes my stomach churn. They don’t full-on act like a couple-y, no PDA or mushy stuff but those moments? They sting like a slap. And yet… something’s off. Like, really off. She’s trying too hard, maybe? Or he’s not into it? I can’t pin it down, and it’s driving me nuts.
Finally, after what feels like a million years, we’re wrapping up. Professor Davies stands, smoothing her skirt, and grabs her bag. “Good work, Aria. You’re almost there. I’ve got a meeting about tomorrow’s event, so I’ll leave you two to finish up.” She shoots Ethan this look, all intense and meaningful, like they’ve got some secret code and my gut twists. What the heck was that? She doesn’t wait for a reply, just clicks out of the room, her heels echoing down the hall.
And then it’s just me and Ethan. Alone. For the first time since he ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
The silence is deafening, pressing down on me like a physical weight. I scramble to gather my stuff, notes, laptop, even my dignity... shoving it all into my bag with shaky hands. I need out. Now. I can’t be here, not with him looking at me like that, all quiet and brooding and Ethan. My chest hurts just breathing the same air as him.
“Good job today,” he says, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. It’s soft, careful, but it still makes me flinch. “You’re ready for tomorrow.”
I nod, not looking up, my fingers fumbling with my bag’s zipper. “Thanks,” I mutter, clipped and cold. I sling the strap over my shoulder, ready to bolt, when he steps forward, his voice stopping me dead.
“Aria, wait. Can we talk? Just for a minute?”
My heart slams against my ribs, and I spin around, glaring at him. His eyes are wide, pleading, but all I see is the guy who broke me. “No,” I snap, sharper than I mean to. “I can’t. Aiden’s waiting for me outside.”
His face falls, just for a second, and I feel this sick little twist of satisfaction. Good. Let him hurt too. But then he recovers, nodding like he’s swallowing something bitter. “Okay. I… yeah, okay.”
I don’t wait for more. I don’t give him the chance to say anything else, to unravel me with those eyes or that voice. I turn and storm out, the door banging shut behind me like a gunshot. My breath’s ragged, my eyes stinging, but I keep moving, keep running, until I’m outside, the cool air hitting my face like a lifeline.
Aiden’s there, leaning against a lamppost, his sketchbook tucked under his arm. He looks up, grinning that lopsided grin, and it’s like a balm on the raw mess inside me. “Hey, you survived!” he calls, oblivious to the war I just fought in there. “Ready to grab that coffee I owe you?”
I force a smile, shoving Ethan’s voice, his face, his everything deep down where it can’t touch me. “Yeah,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Let’s go.”
As we walk away, I don’t look back. I can’t. Because if I do, I’ll see Ethan in that doorway, watching me leave, and I’ll wonder what he wanted to say. And I can’t afford to care. Not anymore.
But deep down, in the part of me I’m trying so hard to ignore, I feel it, a crack, a whisper of something that won’t let go. And I hate it. I hate him. And I hate that I don’t hate him at all.
———
I practically dragged Aiden into the school café, my sneakers squeaking against the tile like I was fleeing a crime scene. The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls hit me like a lifeline, and I bee-lined for our usual corner table, plopping into the seat with a dramatic huff. Aiden slid in across from me, his sketchbook thumping onto the table, that goofy grin of his lighting up his face like he hadn’t just witnessed me sprinting from my own personal hell.
“Dude,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, “you look like you just ran from a zombie apocalypse. Rehearsal that bad?”
I groaned, slamming my forehead onto the table so hard my coffee cup rattled when the barista dropped it off. “Bad? BAD doesn’t even begin to cover it, Aiden. It was a total disaster like, imagine a train wreck, but the train’s on fire, and it’s carrying all my hopes and dreams, and then it explodes in slow motion while Ethan and Professor Davies just sit there judging me.”
He snorted, his hazel eyes twinkling with that annoying, adorable amusement he’s so good at. “Whoa, chill, drama queen. What went down? Spill the tea, I’m dying here.”
I lifted my head just enough to glare at him, my hair flopping into my eyes like a sad curtain. “Okay, fine. Picture this... me, trying to nail my symposium speech, right? And Ethan’s there, all perfect and professor-y, acting like he didn’t just dump me four days ago—like, four days, Aiden! And then Professor Davies is all ‘slow down, Aria, enunciate, Aria,’ like she’s my personal drill sergeant. Oh, and get this... she’s basically eye-flirting with Ethan the whole time, doing that little laugh thing she does, like ‘tee-hee, Ethan, you’re so smart.’ It was awful. I wanted to hurl my notes at them and scream, ‘STOP ACTING LIKE A COUPLE IN FRONT OF ME!!!’ ”
Aiden’s jaw dropped, and he leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “Yikes. That’s next-level awkward. Like, reality-TV-level drama. Did they, uh… do anything couple-y?”
I grabbed my coffee, clutching it like it was my last shred of sanity. “Not, like, full-on PDA or anything, thank God. But she kept leaning into him, brushing his arm, giggling like some lovesick cheerleader. And Ethan? He’s just sitting there, all calm and cool, like he doesn’t even notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s into it, I don’t know! It’s like I’m invisible, Aiden. Like last week never happened.”
He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ouch. That’s brutal, Aria. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Ethan’s a total tool for pulling this.”
I sighed, sipping my coffee, the warmth doing nothing to melt the ice in my chest. “Yeah, well, it gets worse. After Davies left, he tried to talk to me... like, ‘Can we talk for a minute?’ and I just… I couldn’t. I bolted. Told him you were waiting for me and ran out like a total coward.”
Aiden’s grin turned sly, and he waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, so I’m your knight in shining armor now? Saving you from the big bad professor? I’m flattered, dude.”
I rolled my eyes, but a tiny smile tugged at my lips. “Shut up, you dork. You’re more like… my trusty sidekick. Like, Robin to my Batman, but less cool and with worse hair.”
He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Rude! My hair’s iconic, thank you very much. But seriously, I’m glad I could be your escape plan. So… what now? You gonna survive seeing him tomorrow at the symposium?”
I groaned, slumping back in my chair. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I have to stand up there, all poised and smart, while he’s in the audience with her. It’s like my own personal horror movie. But yeah, I’ll survive. I’ve got my squad, right? You guys’ll keep me sane.”
“Always,” he said, his grin softening into something real, something that made my heart ache a little less. “Speaking of sane… we’re cool now, right? I mean, I know I was a total jerk for a while there, icing you out and all. I just… I needed to figure my crap out.”
I nodded, fiddling with my coffee lid. “Yeah, we’re cool. I missed you, Aiden. Like, a lot. It sucked not having you around, even if I totally deserved the cold shoulder.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, you didn’t deserve it. I was just… hurt, you know? But I’m over it. Over you, I mean, not in a mean way! Just… I’m good now. We’re good.”
I smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, I know you’re over me. I saw that Instagram story with Lila. You two looked pretty cozy at the mall. Spill, dude, what’s the deal there?”
His cheeks went pink, and he scratched his neck, all flustered. “Lila? Oh, nah, that’s nothing. We’re just friends. She’s in my art class, and she’s obsessed with these weird smoothies, so she dragged me along to try one. It’s not, like, a thing. Everyone’s making it out to be this big romance, but it’s not. She’s cool, though... super chill, great artist. But yeah, just buddies.”
I raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Uh-huh. ‘Just buddies,’ huh? That’s what they all say before the epic love story kicks off. She’s got that artsy vibe you’re into, though... cardigans, paint splatters, the whole deal.”
He groaned, tossing a napkin at me. “Stop it, you teased! I’m not into her like that. Besides…” His grin turned mischievous. “I’ve got my eye on someone else now. Someone way less dramatic than you.”
I gasped, clutching my chest like I’d been stabbed. “Excuse me? Less dramatic? I’m a delight, Aiden! A total catch! Who’s this mystery girl, huh? Spill!”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Nope, not telling. You’ll just blab to Zianne, and then Jiro’ll turn it into some campus-wide soap opera. I’m keeping this one on the down-low for now.”
“Rude,” I huffed, crossing my arms. “But fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just sic Zianne on you later, she’ll crack you like a walnut.”
“Good luck with that,” he shot back, smirking. “So, what about you? Besides the Ethan implosion, what’s new? Catch me up, I’ve missed your chaos.”
I grinned, leaning back. “Oh, you know, the usual. Zianne’s continuing to be a party girl while making it a secret to her parents. Jiro’s been busy lately with his football and probably still obsessed with Troy. Arkin’s just chilling, being all wise and Zen, like always. And me? I’m just trying to survive this symposium without crying on stage or punching someone. You know, typical college vibes.”
He laughed, loud and bright, and it hit me how much I’d missed this... us, just talking, joking, being us. “Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” he said. “And hey, if you do punch someone tomorrow, aim for Ethan. I’ll cheer you on from the crowd.”
I snorted, shoving his shoulder. “You’re awful. But… thanks. For being here. For not hating me.”
His grin softened, and he nudged me back. “Never hated you, Aria. You’re stuck with me, dude. Besties for life, right?”
“Right,” I said, my voice catching a little. I blinked back the sting in my eyes, hiding it behind a sip of coffee. “Besties for life.”
We kept chatting, catching up on everything we’d missed, like his latest art project (some trippy mural thing), my symposium prep (a nightmare), and all the dumb little stuff in between.
It was easy, light, like watching your favorite chilshood movie that makes you nostalgic. Aiden was back, our Aiden, and for a while, I could pretend Ethan didn’t exist, that the hurt wasn’t still clawing at me.
But deep down, I knew tomorrow was coming. The symposium. Ethan. Professor Davies. All of it. And no amount of coffee or Aiden’s goofy grin could stop that train wreck from rolling in.
Still, for now, I had this... my best friend, a steaming cup of coffee, and a tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d get through it all without totally losing it.