It all started with something incredibly small. After Mia finished introducing herself to the class, our homeroom teacher was looking around, trying to figure out where to seat her. Oliver raised his hand and said, "Mr. Davis, she can sit next to me." A collective "Ooooh" went up from the class. Then, eyes started darting toward me, some subtle, some blatant, curious to see my reaction. Everyone knew Oliver and I had practically grown up together. Everyone also knew that every time seats were reassigned after exams and I asked if we could sit together, he always made some excuse about preferring to sit alone and turned me down. I looked up at Oliver. He didn't notice my gaze; he was too busy exchanging a knowing smile with Mia as she looked out from the front of the classroom. Watching that scene unfold, for some reason, I suddenly felt deeply, bone-tired. 01 The teacher left after Mia took her seat. It was a passing period, so the classroom quickly grew loud again. I could hear the whispers. I could feel the glances shifting from Mia to Oliver, and finally, inevitably, landing on me. I kept my head down, focusing on my work, completely ignoring the stares. It wasn't until Mia finished unpacking her bag, turned around, and smiled at me brightly that I finally looked up. "Serena! It's been so long," she said, her voice warm and familiar, acting as if the ugly fallout between us two years ago had never happened. I didn't look at Oliver sitting next to her. I kept my eyes fixed entirely on Mia. Polite, distant, and perfectly composed, I gave her a small nod. "It has." Before she could react, I looked back down at my Physics homework. My complete lack of interest in catching up was glaringly obvious. Mia, who was always excellent at reading a room, knew when to back off. She turned back around, abandoning her usual act of pretending everything was perfectly fine. Chloe, who sat next to me, was practically vibrating out of her seat. She looked like she was dying to know what was going on, but the bell rang. Plus, the people involved were sitting right in front of us; even a whisper would be heard. So, she passed me a note. It read: WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?!?! I could practically feel her desperation through the sheer number of exclamation marks. I crumpled the note in my hand and glanced at the row in front of me. Oliver and Mia had their heads close together. Oliver was pointing at something in the textbook for our next class, talking to her in a low voice, probably explaining where we were in the syllabus. The angle of his profile looked so incredibly gentle. Oliver rarely showed that kind of patience. Most of the time, he was aloof and easily annoyed with people. I remembered a time when I missed a few days of school because of a bad fever. When I came back, he was helping me catch up on Physics. After barely explaining two concepts, he got frustrated, frowning as he said, "Serena, how can you be this slow?" I wasn't slow; he just didn't have any patience. I used to think that was just how he was—impatient with everyone. But looking at him now, I realized he wasn't impatient. He just wasn't patient with me. 02 The next class was AP Calculus. As the period was winding down, Mr. Harris called my name. "Serena, could you go to my office and grab those two stacks of practice tests? Pass them out; they're homework for tonight. We'll go over the examples tomorrow morning." I nodded and stood up to leave. Chloe immediately jumped up too. "Mr. Harris, I'll go help Serena." It wasn't until we were out in the hallway that she finally lowered her voice and asked, "Serena, what is the deal with you, Oliver, and the new transfer student?" I paused. I knew Chloe was just worried about me. After all, my crush on Oliver was the worst-kept secret in school. Oliver and I lived next door to each other. In the eyes of our parents, we were childhood sweethearts. I had liked him for as long as I could remember. Oliver was popular. He was handsome, got great grades, and had a good reputation. He also had this laid-back, effortlessly cool vibe that made him incredibly well-liked. A teenage crush is a funny thing. No matter how hard you try to hide it or act careful, your feelings always manage to leak out through your eyes. Everyone could see it. They teased us, shipped us, linked our names together constantly. Oliver definitely knew, too. Sometimes, he'd even lean into the teasing, making harmless little jokes that only fueled the rumors. It felt like this unspoken, mutual understanding. A quiet kind of intimacy. But we never actually talked about it. Aside from focusing on getting into a good college, I honestly didn't fully understand Oliver. There was a time when he was so gentle with me it was confusing. But the moment I gathered the courage to ask him what it meant, he'd turn cold and smoothly change the subject, making it seem like I had just misunderstood everything. I'm not the type to force things or chase after someone who doesn't want me. When he pulled away, I naturally pulled back too. But the second I created distance, he'd start paying attention to me again. Chloe once told me that Oliver just liked the attention I gave him. He liked knowing I liked him. He didn't want to date me, but he didn't want to lose me, either. I never really understood that. In my world, you either like someone or you don't. If you like them, you date them; if you don't, you make it clear. But I have to admit, Oliver's hot-and-cold routine made it impossible for me to fully categorize him as 'just a friend.' What really gave me hope happened recently, right after our midterms. My grades were strong across the board, but my Chemistry score was a little low. We were about to choose our tracks for senior year—STEM or Humanities. My counselor had even pulled me aside to suggest I lean towards STEM, but I personally preferred Humanities because I wanted to go into international relations. But Oliver said to me, "Serena, choose the STEM track." His tone was casual, but it felt like a promise. "Let's go to the same college." I froze at the time. My ears turned red, and I tried to play it cool as I asked, "Is that a promise?" He just looked at me with a smile, not saying a word, and my hope was instantly reignited. I was like a fish. Every time I felt like I was suffocating and about to give up, he'd splash a little water on me, just enough to keep me alive. But now that Mia was back, I guess he didn't feel like sparing me even a few drops of water anymore. I sighed, and Chloe looked at me with concern. I didn't want to hide anything from her. I knew she cared. But honestly, the history between me, Mia, and Oliver wasn't as complicated as she probably thought. 03 Mia and I went to the same middle school. She transferred into our class in the middle of 8th grade because her dad got a new job in the city. By that time, friend groups were pretty solidified. Plus, Mia was really pretty, so it was hard for her to fit in at first. I was generally well-liked, easy to talk to, and got good grades, so Mia gravitated towards me. She sat diagonally behind me, separated by an aisle. One morning, I didn't have time for breakfast, and by the time homeroom was over, my stomach was growling loudly. I asked my desk mate if she had any snacks. Somehow, Mia heard me. She handed over her muffin, her eyes curving into a sweet smile. "I happened to buy an extra one this morning. You can have it." I felt a bit awkward, but later on, she'd come up to me with this completely innocent vibe, asking questions about assignments. I always patiently helped her. Eventually, whenever there was a group project or an event, I'd bring her along, and that's how she became part of my friend group. And that's how she met Oliver. Back then, Oliver and I were truly just "childhood friends." Although we hadn't defined anything, just like now, he wasn't hot and cold back then. If he skipped class to play video games, he'd bring back my favorite fries. He'd cover for me so I could sneak out to concerts. Once, during P.E., I sprained my ankle. Our classroom was on the top floor, and he piggybacked me up and down the stairs every single day. He stayed by my side through all my physical therapy. In those countless moments where I felt like I couldn't handle the emotional whiplash of liking him anymore, I'd pick up one or two of those memories. Those hazy, beautiful moments became my motivation to keep going, making me believe that my obvious crush might actually lead somewhere. The turning point in our relationship probably started when Mia transferred to our school. Mia had moved around a lot as a kid because of her dad's job, so she was much more socially adept and smooth than the rest of us. She was incredibly good at reading people. So, very quickly, I considered her a real friend. At that time, I hung out with Oliver a lot, and naturally, she got to know him through me. But when the three of us were together, she rarely spoke. She usually just sat quietly and listened. She seemed so harmless. It took me a long time to realize that whenever she and I were alone, the conversation would somehow always veer towards Oliver. His likes, his dislikes, embarrassing stories from his childhood, what made him happy or angry... Through me, Mia learned everything there was to know about Oliver, without ever having to spend much time with him one-on-one. She even teased me about my obvious crush on him, acting just like any other supportive best friend. There isn't much to say about what happened next. A new movie starring an actor Oliver liked came out. I asked him to go see it, but he said he was busy. Later, my friends dragged me to the mall. By coincidence, we ended up near the movie theater, just in time to see Oliver and Mia walking out. Unlike the usual quiet dynamic when it was the three of us, Mia was laughing beautifully, and Oliver, looking unusually gentle, was gesturing animatedly as they talked, probably discussing the movie plot. I had never known that the usually quiet Mia had such an energetic side. I also never realized that the two of them were that close behind my back. I froze. It was too late to hide. When Mia and Oliver looked up and saw me, Mia's face stiffened. She looked briefly embarrassed, but quickly recovered, flashing her usual smile and saying hi. Oliver, on the other hand, immediately started making excuses: "Mia likes this actor too. Since you don't really like him, I just came with her." Mia. Such an intimate way to say her name. My gaze shifted from his face to Mia standing behind him. I noted her unnatural expression, but I didn't call her out. Because I clearly remembered that when I first told her about Oliver's favorite actor, she looked confused and asked me who he was and if he had been in anything famous. There isn't much else to the story. Even though she knew I liked Oliver, and even though she used me to get close to him and gather information, they weren't actually dating at the time. She had the right to do whatever she wanted. I was just disgusted by her manipulation. I'm not a pushover. After that, I naturally distanced myself. I stopped hanging out with her, and my attitude grew cold. I didn't say anything publicly, but I actively avoided any gathering she was at. The friends who used to invite her only did so because of me. After I bailed a few times, my friends—though they didn't know what happened—stopped inviting her too. "She's nice, gentle, and always says the right thing, but for some reason, she just feels... off. Like she's not genuine." "Serena, weren't you guys super close? You brought her breakfast, let her copy your homework, tutored her... why are you shutting her out now?" I shook my head and avoided the topic. I feel like I was raised well enough to know that no matter what, I don't like talking behind people's backs. It's petty. I never expected that one day, Oliver would be the one to confront me about her. He looked at me with an icy, disappointed expression, asking through gritted teeth, "Serena, are you the one leading the charge to isolate Mia?" Even though it was phrased as a question, the certainty in his tone told me he had already found me guilty. I felt like I was being accused out of nowhere. But my temper is usually pretty even, so I patiently asked, "What makes you think that?" He asked back, "Then why has everyone around you stopped talking to her?" That was probably his version of being diplomatic. I don't know what Mia said to him, but my pent-up anger exploded. I looked at Oliver and said coldly, "I don't respect her character." What followed was an argument I've mostly forgotten. It was probably Oliver desperately trying to convince me that Mia was a great girl and that I shouldn't be prejudiced against her. That was the beginning of the end. Later, Mia even came to apologize to me. But her apology felt more like a thinly veiled taunt, a way to show off. I looked at the smugness hidden beneath her apologetic smile, clutched my books, shoved her lightly, and said coldly, "Get out of my way." I really didn't use much force, but she stumbled backward as if she lost her balance, hitting the wall hard. Her eyes went red as she asked, "Serena, do you really hate me that much?" Before I could answer, someone yanked me hard from behind. Caught off guard, I almost fell. I turned around to see Oliver. He looked at me coldly, acting like a white knight defending Mia. "She sincerely apologized. What more do you want?" He paused, then added, "Besides, she didn't do anything wrong in the first place." My wrist throbbed from his grip. The books I was holding scattered across the floor, bruising my foot. Mia nervously tugged at the hem of Oliver's shirt, telling him not to fight with me because of her. Such hypocrisy. I was young and hot-headed then. Even though angry tears welled in my eyes, I stubbornly refused to let them fall. I looked coldly at Mia and said bluntly, "Mia, you are truly disgusting." Then I turned to Oliver and said, "Oliver, you're an idiot." I don't know how Mia acted around Oliver in private, but I can imagine. From me, she knew Oliver inside and out. So she always knew exactly how to appeal to his tastes, possessing an uncanny, "perfectly timed" alignment with all his preferences. Oliver took those coincidences as fate, and his feelings for her grew. Even if he later realized that everything she knew was just information she gleaned from me, Oliver probably just chalked it up to her being jealous. Mia, the beautiful, perfect girl in his mind. After that, Oliver and I basically stopped talking. He and Mia grew closer, and the bond that used to be ours was replaced by hers. He studied with her, went to museums with her, and took her to our secret spot. One day, I pushed open the door to the school roof and saw them sitting side-by-side, looking at the sky and eating ice cream. They looked so comfortable together. After that, we just ignored each other. I remember for a very long time, Oliver and I didn't exchange a single word. Until the beginning of freshman year of high school, when Mia moved back to her home state. I forget who gave who the out. Time has a way of blurring things, and distance does too. Oliver and I slowly went back to normal, even though the cracks were still there. We tacitly agreed never to bring up Mia, to the point where it felt deliberate. Until today, when Mia suddenly reappeared in our world.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "411841", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel