High school had a way of turning everything into a stage.
Conner watched her from across the school courtyard.
Skie was radiant — not in the glossy, magazine kind of way, but in the kind of way that made it impossible not to look. The way she threw her head back when she laughed, how she always tucked her curls behind her ear like she was revealing something sacred. That kind of radiant.
And there she was again — with boyfriend number two of the year. Jason Alvarez. Varsity basketball. Tall, tanned, charming. The kind of boy who could get away with anything because his smile was just that unfair.
Jason had his arm slung around her shoulder like she was a trophy, and she didn't even seem to mind. She smiled, but it was the kind of smile you wore when someone expected you to smile, not the kind that reached your eyes.
Jason was laughing about something—probably something stupid—and Skie was doing that thing she always did: nodding, trying to laugh too, trying to match the moment.
Conner couldn't watch anymore.
Conner's jaw clenched as he turned away, slamming his locker shut harder than necessary.
Skie, on the Other Side of That Year
Being Jason's girlfriend came with perks.
People started knowing her name. She sat with the cheerleaders even though she wasn't one. She got invited to parties, was offered extra fries in the cafeteria line. And for a while, she convinced herself this was enough.
But it wasn't.
Jason wasn't who she thought he was. Behind the grin and swagger, he was controlling, possessive, sometimes cruel when no one was looking.
She didn't tell Conner. She couldn't.
He would've gone ballistic. Or worse—he would've looked at her different.
Spring, Junior Year
Skie found out the truth like a punch to the chest.
Jason. With Kimari. Her own teammate. Her friend.
It happened behind the bleachers after a game. Someone filmed it. Sent it to her. No caption, just a silence that said here's the truth you were trying not to see.
Conner heard the yelling before he saw them. Kimari crying. Skie shaking with rage, fists clenched at her side.
He didn't know what to do.
So he just watched her walk away. Alone.
He hated this.
He hated that he couldn't say what he wanted to say. That he couldn't walk up to her, pull her aside, and just ask if she ever looked at him that way. If she could.
But he knew better.
Skie was soaring now. Popular. Beautiful. Dating his rival, no less — the guy who had laughed at Conner when he missed a crucial goal in gym sophomore year and called him "C+ Conner" ever since.
And what did Conner do?
He joined the football team. Out of spite. Out of rage. Out of this aching, restless need to be seen.
Turned out, he was good. Really good.
By junior year, he was a starter. By senior fall, a star.
But it didn't matter.
Because no matter how many yards he ran or how many people cheered his name, the one person he wanted to notice — really see him — was too busy falling in and out of love with everyone but him.
Meanwhile, Dylan found a stage and finally breathed.
Theater was magic. It gave him a mask and a megaphone all at once. He could disappear and be seen at the same time.
He played shy princes and wicked lovers, wore glitter and eyeliner and fake blood, and for the first time in his life, he felt free.
Nobody cared who he liked as long as he could cry on cue and deliver lines like they were confessions.
And while Skie danced in popularity and Conner drowned in silent longing, Dylan finally started to live — quietly, beautifully, in the shadows.
Spring: Second Year of High School
It came out of nowhere.
Conner was walking past the art hall when he overheard Skie talking to Kimari — the one cheerleader she still talked to after "the incident."
"She said she didn't mean it," Skie was saying. "But how do you not mean to sleep with your friend's boyfriend?"
Conner froze.
Jason. Of course.
Kimari winced. "I'm sorry, Skie. That's... brutal."
Skie's voice dropped to a whisper. "I thought he loved me. I loved him."
Conner backed away slowly, his heart thudding in his throat.
Skie was single.
Skie was hurting.
And for some reason, that made him break up with his own girlfriend that night — a sweet girl named Amelia who didn't do anything wrong except not be Skie.
When she asked why, he gave her the truth.
"I don't think I've ever really been all in," he said softly. "And I think it's unfair to pretend anymore."
Amelia nodded, tears in her eyes, then walked away with dignity he didn't deserve.
A Week Later
Conner stood outside the theater doors, gripping his phone like it owed him answers. He couldn't go to Skie. Not like this. Not yet. Not while she was still bleeding.
So he went to the one person who'd always known him too well.
"Dylan," he said, slipping into the back of the auditorium.
Dylan was still in costume — some Elizabethan thing with a ruffled collar and smeared lipstick. He blinked when he saw Conner.
"Whoa. You okay?"
"Never better...actually, No."
Dylan walked offstage, sat beside him. The room was empty except for the echo of their breath.
"I need to tell you something," Conner said.
"I already know."
Conner's eyes shot to his. "You do?"
Dylan smirked. "You're in love with Skie. Have been since puberty, maybe even before. You wear it like cologne."
"I never told anyone," Conner said, stunned.
"You didn't have to. The only two people who didn't know were you and her."
Conner leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.
"It hurts, man. It really hurts."
"I know."
"I thought when she was single again, I'd finally have a shot. But then I heard her saying she still loves Jason. After everything."
"Maybe she does," Dylan said. "And maybe she's lying to herself because that's easier than facing what's real. People do that. Especially when they're scared."
"What if I tell her and it ruins everything?"
Dylan looked at him, voice suddenly quiet. "What if you don't, and you spend the rest of your life wondering what would've happened if you had?"
Conner didn't have an answer.
All that lingered, were a growing storm in his chest.
Later That Night
He found Skie sitting on the bleachers behind the gym, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes were red.
"Hey," he said, climbing up beside her.
She didn't look at him, just sniffled. "I feel so stupid," she admitted.
"You're not stupid" I told her.
"I let him make me into someone I'm not."
"You're still you, Skie. You've always been you.
"I knew Jason was a jerk. I just didn't want to believe it. Why do I keep picking the wrong people?"
Conner sat in silence.
He wanted to say it then. I love you.
But her eyes were too sad.
So instead, he said, "I'm here. That's all. I'm here."
She leaned against him, head on his shoulder.
And Conner stared up at the sky, swallowing everything he couldn't say
She glanced at him. Something passed between them — raw, electric, uncertain.
But she was still healing. And he wasn't going to take advantage of that.
Wishing she already knew.