There are moments in life when the world slows down—not because something beautiful is happening, but because you can feel everything about to fall apart.
This was one of those moments.
Kaylee stood in the doorway of my bedroom, her face pale, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She looked like she'd seen a ghost—or worse, become one.
I was curled up on my bed, Liam's hoodie swallowing me whole, a book in my lap I hadn't turned a page of in twenty minutes. His scent lingered on the fabric—something minty and warm—and it had lulled me into a soft place, a dangerous place. The kind where you believe people can actually love you without hidden motives.
Kaylee's voice cut through that illusion like glass.
"Zara… we need to talk."
I didn't look up immediately. "If this is about you leaving your dishes in the sink again—"
"It's not." She took a step forward, her voice trembling. "It's about Liam."
That got my attention.
I looked up slowly, blinking at her. "What about him?"
She hesitated, like she was trying to pick the right words, like she knew whatever she said next could detonate everything.
"I overheard something," she finally said. "Earlier today, after last period. I was going back to the gym to grab my water bottle and… they didn't know I was there. Liam. Beatrice. Those guys he's always with."
I sat up straighter, unease curling through my stomach. "And?"
Kaylee's eyes filled with something I hadn't seen in her in a long time—guilt. "They were laughing. About you. About how you actually fell for him. And then Beatrice said something like, 'It's working. She's so obsessed with him now, she won't even see it coming.'"
I stared at her, frozen. "What?"
"She said Liam's just doing what they planned—getting you to fall for him so he can dump you. Crush you. Prove you're not special."
I stood up. "Stop."
"I wouldn't lie to you, Zara—"
"No," I snapped. "You wouldn't, but you might if you were jealous."
Kaylee flinched. "Jealous?"
I crossed my arms over my chest, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. "I've seen the way you've looked at us lately. Like you're annoyed. Like you don't like that I'm happy for once. You've been weird ever since Liam and I started dating."
"That's not true—"
"Oh, please," I cut her off. "You're dating my stepbrother, Kaylee. Nick. Who I hate, by the way. So don't sit there acting like I'm the one who betrayed our friendship."
Her mouth opened, then closed. I could see the hurt there, sharp and unfiltered. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't let her words land. If they did, everything I was starting to believe—everything I was feeling—would unravel.
"Do you know how hard it is for me to feel safe with someone?" I continued, voice cracking. "Liam's the first person who's made me feel like I'm not just a burden. Like I'm not something people walk away from. But the second I finally get something good, you come barging in to ruin it."
"I'm not trying to ruin it, Zara," she whispered. "I'm trying to protect you."
"From what? From being happy?"
"From being hurt." Her voice broke. "You're my best friend. I'd rather you hate me than let you walk blindly into something that's going to break your heart."
I felt the tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back, forcing my spine to stay straight. "You don't know Liam like I do."
Kaylee just shook her head slowly, tears brimming in her own eyes. "No. I guess I don't."
She stepped back toward the door.
"But I know you, Zara," she added quietly. "And I know when you're in denial."
Then she turned and walked out.
I stood there in silence, arms still wrapped around myself, Liam's hoodie suddenly suffocating.
I wanted to believe her. I really did.
But believing her meant admitting it was all fake.
Believing her meant I'd been played.
Again.
So I shoved her words down. Deep.
And told myself they were just that—words.
Because Liam smiled at me like I mattered.
Because Liam kissed me like I was the only one.
Because Liam chose me.
Didn't he?
The silence in my room was deafening.
Even with the windows shut, I could hear the soft echo of my own heartbeat. Kaylee's voice, though, was louder than anything else. It ricocheted around in my head like a scream in a tunnel.
He's only dating you to break your heart.
They were laughing about you.
It's all just a game to them.
But I couldn't believe that. I didn't believe that.
Except… part of me did.
I hated the way my mind twisted memories now. How every sweet smile Liam had given me was suddenly suspect. Every brush of his fingers. Every whispered promise.
Still, I couldn't breathe until I heard it from him.
I reached for my phone and typed out the text before I could second-guess myself.
Zara: Can we talk?
He responded instantly.
Liam: Of course. Meet me at the field behind school?
I shoved on the hoodie he left the last time we hung out, ignoring how pathetic it made me feel. I needed answers, not comfort. Even if part of me was still craving both.
The night air was cool, and the field was shadowed in soft moonlight when I arrived. Liam was already there, leaning against his car, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. When he saw me, his face lit up.
That smile. It almost made me forget why I came.
Almost.
"You okay?" he asked, walking over.
"No," I said honestly. "I need to ask you something."
He stopped a foot away, brows furrowing. "What's going on?"
I looked up at him, trying to read him. "Are you playing me?"
He blinked. "What?"
"Is this a joke to you? Us. Is it a bet? A game? A way to… I don't know, make fun of me?"
Liam took a step back like I'd physically hit him. "Zara—no. God, no. Where is this coming from?"
"I heard things. Kaylee overheard things. People talking. Laughing about me. Saying… saying I actually believed you cared."
His jaw tensed. "People talk a lot of crap. Especially people like Beatrice. You know that."
"She said you were in on it."
His face darkened. "Beatrice would say anything to come between us."
"And you wouldn't?"
"Zara." He closed the space between us, his voice lower now, quieter. "Look at me. Really look."
I did. His eyes were steady, his brows pinched in concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line.
"I'm not playing with you," he said. "I would never do that."
I opened my mouth to say something, anything—but the words refused to form.
"I like you, Zara. Not because it's easy. It's actually really hard." His lips twitched slightly, trying to smile. "You don't make anything simple. You challenge everything I thought I knew about people. About… feelings. You see through things, and you call me out. And yeah, maybe I didn't expect to fall for you, but I did."
I hated how easily he said that.
How quickly he calmed the storm inside me.
But the worst part? I wanted to believe him so badly.
Still, I whispered, "But why me?"
"Because you're not like anyone else," he said softly. "You're not fake. You're not shallow. You're smart and you care—like really care. And you've got this fire in you that makes it impossible to ignore you."
I stared up at him, my chest rising and falling too fast.
He looked at me the way people look at things they don't deserve but want anyway.
"Zara," he murmured, "I'm here because I want to be. I chose you."
I didn't know if it was the way he said it or how close he was now, but the fear in me faltered.
"You're not going to hurt me?" I asked.
"No." He shook his head slowly. "Not ever."
And I wanted to believe that.
God, I did.
So when he leaned in, I didn't stop him.
When his hand touched my cheek, I didn't flinch.
And when his lips brushed against mine—slow and soft and warm—I let myself kiss him back.
It was gentle at first, like a question. But then it deepened, and all the noise in my head faded. There was only this. This kiss. This moment. This boy who felt too good to be true.
And for now… I let it be enough.