Ray's POV
I didn't wear pink today. Or lilac. Or lemony yellow.
I didn't braid my hair with ribbons. Didn't pack extra napkins with hearts on them. Didn't even stop by the bakery.
No sprinkles.
No glitter.
No me.
I wore black.
Black like the mood that's been clinging to me ever since I heard them.
By the fountain.
Laughing.
Like I was a joke.
A loud, clingy, try-hard kind of girl who was only lovable if she played court jester for people who didn't care.
They called me a "pick me."
Said I probably slept with a professor.
Said I was too much.
Too much.
I've heard that one my whole life.
Too loud.
Too cheerful.
Too friendly.
Too happy.
Too weird.
And I've always brushed it off. Danced through it. Hugged people tighter. Made more cookies. Wore more color.
Because I thought—
I thought if I loved the world loud enough, it would love me back.
But today, I felt tired.
I felt small.
And the worst part?
I saw him.
Sebastian.
At the edge of the courtyard. Sitting on a bench like he owned it. Cold and unreadable as ever.
I wanted to disappear.
But I didn't.
Because something strange happened.
The girls stopped laughing.
They stopped talking, even. Their voices dropped. Their eyes darted behind them.
And I turned, slowly.
Seb was staring at them. No expression. Just eyes—like steel knives dipped in ice water.
Not a word came out of his mouth. But the silence roared.
And they left.
Like smoke. Like shadows slinking away from light.
My heart did something weird.
Like it stuttered, but not in a panic attack way. More like—
More like when you realize someone saw you get punched in the ribs, and instead of asking if you're okay, they turned around and punched back.
He didn't look at me. Didn't smile. Didn't offer words.
But I knew.
I knew he heard them.
And he didn't let it slide.
I should've said thank you. I should've walked up to him and said, "Hey, that was really cool," or "I owe you one," or maybe even just, "You didn't have to do that, but I'm glad you did."
Instead I—
I sat beside Ava. Quiet.
But I couldn't stop glancing over.
And when he finally looked at me, just once, from across the lawn—
I swear to god I almost cried again.
Because in that single look was the softest, fiercest thing I'd ever seen.
Not pity.
Not awkwardness.
Belief.
He didn't think I was "too much."
He didn't think I was a joke.
He just… let me be quiet today.
And somehow, that made me feel more loved than any bright pink cupcake ever had.