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“Anime festival?” I never saw anything about that on her socials. “Didn’t think she posted personal stuff. Just photos from competitions and that kind of thing. Why didn’t I see it?”

His eyes sparkle, and a chill rushes up my spine. Fucking hell. I just admitted to stalking her socials.

“Why didn’t you see it, you wonder?” The smirk that rises onto his face makes me want to punch him.

“Shut it. Her profile has popped up on my feed a few times. That’s what I mean.”

“Of course. You’d never check her socials, right?”

I glare at him. “I don’t do that.”

“Sure,” he snorts, his head tipped back. “And I forgot to mention Jennifer Lawrence invited me to dinner, and I said yes.”

Irritation stirs to life inside me. “Fuck you.”

“Relax. You haven’t seen that stuff because she posts it to her finsta.”

My stomach flips. “She has a secret profile?”

He shrugs, still grinning. “Of course she does. Her professional profile is followed by more than a hundred thousand people. I wouldn’t post personal things there either.”

With a hum, I bring my cup to my lips. It makes sense. Regardless… “I don’t check her profile, but here and there, when one of her videos pops up, I take a peek.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. You two were inseparable for almost sixteen years. It’s hard to cut someone like that out of your life.”

I exhale slowly through my nose, gripping my cup so hard, the plastic dents. What Ash said is an understatement.

For seven months after she left, when anyone asked, I’d tell them she betrayed me. That she left without saying goodbye. That she didn’t care. I repeated it so many times, it became muscle memory. An automatic response. It was easier than admitting how deeply I was wounded. I deleted all our messages. I blocked her number, her socials, told myself I never wanted to hear her name again.

And for a while, I believed it.

But then, I was on the roof one night, the perfect kind of summer night she and I used to relish together. The temptation to check her profile was too strong to fight, and it forced the whole damn façade to crack. Now, I do it all the time.

Ash keeps talking, telling me to move on, but I ignore him, my mind drifting to this morning and every morning for the last couple of weeks. When I sat in the highest row of the stands, hood up, watching her skate like the ice belonged only to her. Like Boston never happened. Like she never ripped my chest open and left me to deal with the mess alone.

I tell myself I keep her blocked so she can’t reach me.

But maybe I’m really doing it to keep myself from reaching out to her?

I don’t want to know.

“Oh, she’s here.” Asher’s voice is loud and deep, ripping me out of my thoughts. “I’ll go say hi. It’s her first college party, after all. I want her to have fun.” He looks me over, eyebrows pulled together. “You’ll be okay?”

I roll my eyes and lift my cup in mock salute. “Of course. I’ll go find the guys.”

“Suit yourself.” He turns on his heel and makes his way through the crowd.

I linger behind, even though I know I should go find our teammates. But when have I ever done what’s best for me? Probably never.

When Asher hugs her, my body temperature shoots up, and the desire to tell him to stop being so handsy with her is almost too strong to ignore. But he wouldn’t listen anyway. If I thought he would, then maybe I’d say something.

He steps to the side, letting a couple pass him, and two girls come into view: the girl with blue hair who plays basketball and Isla.

Bright pink, long-sleeved crop top, ripped light blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her deep brown hair is down in soft, almost careless waves, cascading over her shoulders. The room is dim, and people pass by her every couple of seconds, making it hard to tell if she’s wearing makeup. Though I can’t miss one eye-catching detail—the bright red color on her lips. She smiles, easy and open, her hand resting on Asher’s forearm.

The sight sends my emotions into turmoil. She used to smile at me like that, but now, I’m no one to her. Just another face on campus. A face she can’t stand, no matter what Asher tells me.

And I hate it. While I could never hate her, I despise how I can’t make myself look away. I’ve spent years telling myself she no longer matters. That what happened between us killed any affection I used to have. That she is no one. That I should feel nothing.