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Chapter 3 – Cracks in the Silence
Jennie’s POVI didn’t sleep much last night. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling of my dimly lit dorm room, feeling like my chest carried a weight that wouldn’t lift. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—with her. Laughing. Smiling. Like he always did—with me.
But not as me. As his best friend.
Not as someone he could ever love.
The ache wasn’t new. But last night, it settled deeper than usual, like it had roots.
Lisa had gone out with Yuna.
He called me afterward, like he always does. His voice was excited, telling me about the dinner, the funny conversation, how clumsy Yuna was when she dropped her chopsticks, how she laughed at his jokes. I laughed with him.
But something inside me broke quietly.
When I hung up, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked the same as always—black hair falling past my shoulders, my eyes sharp, cold, unreadable. People called me intimidating, cold-hearted, hard to approach.
Lisa never did.
And that’s why it hurt.
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The next morning, I got ready slower than usual. My hand lingered on my necklace—an old one Lisa gave me during our first year of college, when we were still trying to find our place on campus. I still wore it. He probably didn’t even remember.
I arrived in class early, took my seat by the window like always. The seat beside mine—Lisa’s—was empty, but I didn’t expect him to be early anyway. He never was. I opened my notes, pretending to study, but all I really did was wait.
Ten minutes into the lecture, I heard hurried footsteps and then the familiar sound of someone dropping into the chair beside me.
“Morning, stranger,” Lisa whispered, nudging my arm with a half-smile.
I didn’t answer.
He leaned closer, chuckling softly. “Jennie? You mad I didn’t text last night?”
Still no response.
Lisa frowned slightly. “Come on, Jenn. You’re my best friend. Don’t do this to me.”
Best friend. That cursed word again.
I finally turned to look at him. His hoodie was slightly wrinkled, hair still damp from a rushed shower, but his smile was genuine. Maybe a little tired, but still Lisa. The Lisa I knew—the Lisa who unknowingly ripped me apart.
“You had fun?” I asked, voice flat.
He blinked. “Huh?”
“With Yuna.”
“Oh.” He paused, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean… she’s nice.”
“Nice,” I echoed.
He looked confused. “Why? You don’t like her?”
I shrugged and turned my attention back to the board. I could feel his eyes on me for a few seconds longer, but then he sighed and shifted his attention to his own notes.
But I could feel the silence stretching between us—taut, tense, filled with everything I didn’t say.
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After class, Lisa tried to walk with me like usual. I kept my pace faster than his. He kept up.
“Jennie—hey, wait. Don’t walk so fast.”
