Dylan was used to being liked.
He wasn't arrogant about it—at least, not obviously—but he knew what he had. Tall, athletic, good-natured, and never without a smile that made people linger. People said he had the kind of charm that didn't need effort.
So when he started noticing Emily more—really noticing her—it wasn't out of nowhere. He'd always liked her calmness. The way she was quietly funny, always observing, never loud. There was something magnetic about her silence.
And lately, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
It was during lunch break on a windy Wednesday when he finally made a move. They were sitting on a bench outside the library, the campus loud around them. Emily had her headphones in one ear, but not both—a habit of hers, always keeping part of herself tuned in.
"So," Dylan said casually, "you and that Riley girl. You hang out a lot now."
Emily glanced at him. "Yeah. She's cool."
He nodded. "She seems... intense."
Emily smiled to herself. "She's honest."
Dylan leaned back, tapping his fingers against the bench. "You know, I always thought you and I would've clicked more. We get each other. You're not like the other girls."
That line made her eyebrows twitch. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean," he said, laughing nervously, "you're not fake. You're real. And I like that."
Emily turned her eyes back to the open quad, something in her expression hardening.
"I like you, Emily," Dylan said, softer now. "I've liked you for a while. I just didn't know if you felt the same."
Her stomach dropped. Not because she was surprised, but because she'd felt this coming—and couldn't stop it.
She didn't know what to say at first. She didn't want to hurt him. He was her friend. But she also couldn't give him what he wanted.
"Dylan…" she began, voice cautious.
He leaned in slightly, hopeful.
"I don't feel that way. About you."
The silence that followed was short but sharp.
His face faltered. "Oh. I mean—okay. But... is it someone else?"
Emily stood up, suddenly overwhelmed. "I have to go."
And she left, the air tight around her. Behind her, Dylan sat frozen, not angry—just confused. Bruised in a place his confidence had never touched before.
—
Emily didn't even realize where she was going until she found herself at the far edge of campus, where the old art wing stood quiet. Riley's usual hideout. She wasn't sure if Riley would be there—but she was.
Sketchpad open, feet propped up on a broken stool, Riley looked up the moment Emily entered.
"Hey," she said, reading the expression on her face like a book. "You okay?"
Emily sat down hard across from her. "Dylan said he likes me."
Riley blinked. "Okay… And?"
"I don't like him. Not like that."
"Did you tell him?"
Emily nodded. "Yeah. I just—I didn't know how to say it. I didn't want to hurt him, but it still felt wrong."
Riley leaned in. "So what feels worse? Hurting him, or pretending?"
Emily exhaled, defeated. "Both, maybe."
They sat in silence for a beat. Riley tapped her pencil against the sketchpad.
"You ever liked a guy?" Emily asked suddenly.
Riley shook her head. "Not once."
"Not even a little?"
"Not even a blink."
Emily let that sit for a while. "Yeah," she said softly. "Same."
Riley grinned. "Well, that's a relief. Thought I was gonna have to compete with Dylan the Dreamboat."
Emily laughed, the sound surprising both of them. "He is the school's golden boy."
"Which makes it even better that he got rejected by you."
"I didn't mean to bruise his ego," Emily said, but she was smiling now.
"Some boys need the bruise," Riley said simply.
Emily nodded, still smiling, but her thoughts lingered. Dylan wasn't just any boy—he was her friend. And now, things were different. Uncomfortable.
But sitting there with Riley, with her dumb sarcasm and her quiet understanding, things didn't feel confusing.
They felt clear.
For the first time, really clear.
Emily looked at Riley—not just the confident posture or the wry smile, but the softness underneath it. The part of her that had never asked for anything, but had been there anyway. She thought about how easy it was to breathe here, away from expectations and assumptions.
"I'm glad I found you," Emily said, almost in a whisper.
Riley raised an eyebrow. "That's probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me this year."
"I mean it."
Riley's expression softened. "I know."
Outside, the wind rustled the trees, leaves scattering across the pavement like stories that hadn't been told yet.
They didn't hug. They didn't need to. But Emily felt something settle inside her, like a puzzle piece finally sliding into place. She still didn't have all the answers. But she had this—this space, this truth, this girl across from her who saw her clearly.
And for now, that was enough.
—
But across campus, Dylan sat at the edge of the football field, thinking but he brushed it off like a classic man
He wasn't going to back off.
Not yet.
He wasn't ready to let her go.
---