I felt my grip on my lunchbox tighten for a fraction of a second. Just a small movement. Almost unnoticeable.
Almost.
"No, it wasn't like that… or maybe…" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice quieter than I intended.
I hated how easily his name stirred something inside me. It wasn't longing. It wasn't regret. It was… something else. Something heavier.
Nami narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean 'maybe'? Spill."
I exhaled, pressing my lips together before finally admitting, "Look, it's just… I didn't like him. Or maybe I did. I was confused back then. But now, I just want to forget about him."
But did I?
Saying it out loud was supposed to feel like closure. Like locking a door and never looking back. But if it was really over, why did his name still feel like a loose thread I hadn't pulled yet?
Nami studied me for a moment before nodding, as if she understood without me needing to say anything more.
Why was it always so easy to talk to her? No matter how much I tried to hide, she always saw through me.
"Anyway, love and relationships… that's just not our thing, right?" I laughed, shaking my head as I leaned back against the bench.
Talking to Nami always had this effect—like shaking off the last bit of sadness that clung to me. Moments ago, the weight in my chest had been suffocating, but now, after letting it all out, it felt lighter. The way she casually brushed things off, making even the heaviest emotions seem temporary, was something I secretly admired about her.
Nami chuckled, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "That's true. And it's especially not your thing. You're always crushing on someone, then backing off just as fast." Her teasing tone made it obvious she wasn't letting this go.
I scoffed, nudging her playfully. "Hey! That's not—" I paused, thinking about it.
Okay, maybe it was true.
How many times had I convinced myself I liked someone, only to lose interest the moment things started getting real? It was like I enjoyed the idea of it more than the reality. Maybe that was my problem—I liked keeping people at a distance, where they were safe and uncomplicated.
Where they couldn't hurt me.
Nami leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, watching me with amusement. "See? You can't even deny it."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Maybe I just get bored easily."
She shook her head with a grin. "Or maybe you're just scared."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words didn't come.
Because she wasn't wrong.
She hit too close to the truth—the part of me I didn't want to admit, even to myself.
I masked it with another laugh. "Scared of what? Falling in love? Please, as if that's ever going to happen."
Nami gave me a knowing look but didn't push further. Maybe she understood me better than I thought. Maybe she saw through my walls, the way I built them high enough so no one could really reach me.
And yet, despite all that, talking to her made it easy to forget—even if just for a moment—that those walls were ever there in the first place.
"Oh no! We forgot!" I suddenly exclaimed, my eyes widening in realization.