1 Three days before our graduation trip, my boyfriend, Connor, brought over a box of mystery travel scratch-offs for me to pick our destination. I scratched off three in a row, and every single one of them read: Montana. My best friend, Hazel, clapped her hands in excitement. She immediately pulled out her phone and canceled the beachside cabin I had spent weeks booking in Miami. I refused to believe it. I grabbed the coin and scratched off every single card remaining in the box. Every. Single. One. Said Montana. But I had been planning this beach trip for three years. The first year, Connor claimed his eczema would flare up if he touched saltwater. A week later, he accompanied Hazel to a crowded water park. The second year, he said he had a severe sun allergy and couldn't be outdoors. Yet, I found their names written side-by-side on boat tickets from a trip to Lake Tahoe. And now, looking at the hotel reservations and train tickets already booked on Hazel's phone, a profound exhaustion washed over me. The ocean you stood me up on, Connor... I’ll go see it by myself. I stared down at the scratched-off cards littering the floor. Hazel, completely oblivious to my silence, wrapped her arm around mine and began talking about what we should wear. "Fifi, I bought two matching outfits in a dusty wasteland style. Against the blue sky and green grass, we are going to look absolutely stunning!" She swiped through photos on her phone, but I couldn't bring myself to care. "I want to go to the beach," I said quietly. Hazel’s cheerful smile faltered, her face dropping instantly. "Fifi, this is our only graduation trip. I promise I'll go to the beach with you next time." But Connor had promised me just two days ago that he would walk along the shore and collect seashells with me. Connor's throat bobbed. Under my intense, steady gaze, he finally looked away and pulled up a ticket booking app on his phone. "Actually, I bought the train tickets to Montana a long time ago," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "The scratch-off box was just a fun little way to build some excitement. Besides, weren't you excited just a second ago?" My fingertips turned ice-cold. I squeezed a scrap of the cardboard card in my palm. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came. "Come on, next time. I promise we'll do whatever you want next time." I had been hearing that promise for three years. He always had a different excuse. Eczema, sun allergies, busy schedules. I had waited and hoped, over and over again. But this time, I was done waiting. "It's fine," I said. "I can go to the beach by myself." Connor froze, clearly shocked that I was openly disagreeing with him for the first time in our relationship. "Maybe I should cancel my ticket, Fifi," Hazel said, hovering her finger over the screen with a look of mock regret. "I just don't feel right going without you." But her finger remained suspended, never actually tapping the screen. Connor reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip tight enough to make his veins show. "Don't do that," he said quickly. "You've been researching Montana trails since last month. Canceling now would be a waste." Meanwhile, my beach ticket had been refunded the exact second Hazel "scratched" that mystery card. The notification Refund Successful on my screen was blindingly bright. Connor looked at me, his expression softening as he tried to placate me. "Fiona, next month is your birthday. I'll take you to the beach then, okay?" I raised my eyes and looked at him, my face entirely blank. "My birthday was last week, Connor." His face stiffened. Last week, I had bought a small cake and lit the candles by myself. He told me he had to help Hazel with her dance club rehearsal. I sat alone until the wax melted into the frosting. He never showed up, and he never called. The built-up resentment in my chest suddenly surged, burning the back of my throat. I had been ignoring the reality of our relationship for so long, desperately lying to myself just to keep holding on. "It's all your fault," Hazel said, playfully pinching Connor's side before turning to me with a pout. "He's so forgetful, Fifi. Don't be mad at him. Why don't you just come to Montana with us? When we get back, we'll absolutely go to the beach with you." I took a deep breath, wanting to tell her that flights to Miami were still available. But Hazel had already turned around, pulling out her tablet to discuss the hiking route with Connor. They huddled close, their shoulders pressed together, her hair brushing against his cheek. There was no room for me in their world. "Make sure you practice your photography skills these next two days," Hazel teased, forwarding several videos to Connor. "If my photos don't look good, I'm never speaking to you again!" They looked exactly like a couple in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. "You're a handful, you know that?" Connor laughed, his voice dripping with affection. I stepped back, quietly pulling out my phone. While they were busy flirting, I booked a one-way ticket to Miami, departing early the day after tomorrow. Three people made for a very crowded relationship. I was going to see the ocean on my own terms. The app showed the ticket was processing. Connor finally looked back at me. "Fifi, I sent you the itinerary." I opened our chat window and scrolled through our recent messages. Four days ago, he was too busy helping Hazel with her thesis defense to have dinner with me. Yesterday, he bought a box of lemon tarts and pistachio macarons and asked me to deliver them to Hazel because she was mad at him. Every single conversation we had revolved around Hazel. I felt more like his administrative assistant than his girlfriend. "I don't know what I would do without Connor," Hazel giggled, sticking her tongue out playfully. "I'd probably lose my head." I still had a detailed beach itinerary saved in my photo album. When I tried to show it to Connor a few days ago, he told me it was too much reading and walked away. My phone buzzed. Booking Confirmed. Looking at the destination on my screen, I felt a massive weight lift from my chest. I didn't want to hear another word about Hazel's perfect hiking outfits. I went back to my apartment. I pulled my suitcase from the closet and began packing my sunscreen and summer dresses. "Our trip isn't for another three days, why are you packing now?" my mother asked, walking into my room. I didn't answer. Instead, I grabbed the three boxes of travel toiletries I had bought for the three of us and tossed them into the trash can. My mother realized something was wrong. "Did you have a fight with them?" "Yeah," I murmured, my throat tight. I picked up a green reusable water cup from my desk. Connor and Hazel had matching pink and blue ones that he bought during their trip to Lake Tahoe. He had bought mine online weeks later, choosing a green one because they were out of the other colors. I tossed it into the trash bag. Without their clutter, my suitcase felt incredibly light. When I went downstairs to throw out the garbage, I heard Hazel calling my name from a distance. She and Connor were walking toward me, wearing matching baseball caps in different colors. They had even swapped their shoelaces, tying one pink and one blue lace on each of their sneakers. I looked down at the matching couples shirt I was wearing. I had bought it two years ago, but Connor had never worn his. I was the only one who ever wore it. "Why did you throw your cup away?" Connor asked, frowning as he noticed the trash bag. "It cracked," I lied. "Well, that's perfect timing! We can buy a new one today," Hazel said, grabbing my hand and squeezing my fingers. "I came to get you so we could buy some outdoor gear. We need to make sure you have everything for Montana." Looking at her bright, cheerful smile, a dark thought crossed my mind. What would happen if I just didn't tell them I was going to Miami? "Sure," I said. I followed them into the sporting goods store, but instead of looking at hiking gear, I wandered over to the swim cover-ups. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hazel trying on windbreakers. Connor watched her with a fond, indulgent smile as she held a bright pink jacket against his chest. When he noticed me looking at a pair of beach sandals, he walked over and took them out of my hand, putting them back on the shelf. "These aren't going to work," he said, handing me a pair of sturdy trekking poles. "You need these for the trails in Montana. The sandals are for the beach." I ignored him, picking the sandals right back up. I also grabbed a lightweight sun-protection hoodie. Connor's brow furrowed. "Fiona, I know you're upset. But I promise I'll take you shopping for beach gear when we go next month. There's no point in buying this stuff now just to let it gather dust." I stared at him, my eyes steady and unblinking. "Who says I'm not going?" I brushed past him and went straight to the cash register to pay. Connor hurried after me, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise. "Mom?" I had heard his parents owned a shop nearby, but I hadn't expected to run into his mother here. I offered a polite, somewhat awkward greeting. But before I could even raise my hand, Mrs. Brooks walked right past me, heading straight for Hazel. "Hazel, sweetheart! It feels like it's been ages," she said, taking Hazel's hands in hers. "Why haven't you and Connor come over to visit me lately?" She patted Hazel's hands warmly, completely ignoring my presence. "You have to stay and have dinner with me tonight." This was only my second time meeting Connor's mother, and it was painfully clear she had no interest in me. I made an excuse about being busy, but Connor insisted on dragging me along to the restaurant anyway. The dinner was agonizing. Hazel and Mrs. Brooks laughed and chatted like family, with Hazel affectionately calling her "Godmama." I sat in silence, sipping my water, until I couldn't take it anymore and excused myself early. The cool evening air helped clear my head. When Connor came running out of the restaurant after me, I turned to face him, feeling entirely calm. "Let's break up," I said. The expression on his face went blank for a second. His shoulders tensed. "Fiona, I literally just brought you to have dinner with my family, and you want to break up with me?" I remained silent, remembering how Mrs. Brooks had brushed past me without a word, only to turn back and tell Hazel to visit her more often. Connor, take good care of Hazel. Don't ignore your best friend just because you have a girlfriend now. I forced a small, tired smile. "You two make much more sense together. And your mother clearly prefers her." Hazel rushed out of the restaurant, her eyes pooling with tears as she looked at me pleadingly. "Fiona, please don't say that! You've got it all wrong. I was only talking to Mrs. Brooks so much because I didn't want the dinner to feel awkward!" Connor grabbed my wrist, his voice rising in anger. "Hazel was just trying to make a good impression on my mom, Fiona. What did she do wrong?" I shook my head, pulling my wrist from his grip. His mother's hostility during dinner was loud and clear. Even if we stayed together, there was no future for us. More importantly, his heart wasn't with me. The sooner I ended this, the sooner I could heal. Without another word, I turned and hailed a taxi. Halfway down the block, I realized I had left my purse on the chair in the restaurant. I instructed the driver to turn back, and as I walked down the quiet hallway toward our private dining room, I heard Hazel sobbing inside. "What am I going to do? Is Fiona really mad at me? I can't lose her as a friend, Connor." My chest tightened, a familiar ache blooming in my throat. "And the way she was looking at you today... it was so strange," Hazel sobbed, her voice trembling. "Do you think... do you think she found out about the library? Does she know you hired those guys to corner her back then, just so you could play the hero and rescue her?" It felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I froze in the hallway, paralyzed. Three years ago, as I was leaving the university library at night, two men had started following me. Connor and Hazel had suddenly appeared, chasing the men away and walking me home safely. It was because of that night that Hazel and I became inseparable friends, and it was because of that night that I fell in love with Connor. My hands shook violently. My chest felt hollow, my throat dry. Connor's voice was tight and anxious. "She doesn't know. And besides, we didn't actually let those guys hurt her, did we?" Hazel wrung her hands, her voice quiet. "Then why did she suddenly bring up breaking up? Is she really that upset about the Montana trip?" She reached for her phone to cancel her train ticket, but Connor stopped her, his voice softening as he comforted her. "We've postponed her beach trip plenty of times. One more time won't kill her. I'll make it up to her later. Hazel, I just want you to be happy." I stood outside the door, the cold seeping deep into my bones. My entire relationship was built on a lie. I let out a quiet, bitter laugh, the last trace of warmth leaving my eyes, and pushed the door open. Hazel gasped, quickly wiping her eyes. Her nose was bright red as she forced a shaky smile. "Fiona! You came back! I was so scared you were gone for good." She reached out to grab my hand, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes. "I knew you wouldn't leave me." I had loved her like a sister. We had filled out our college applications together, and my only birthday wish had been for the three of us to stay friends forever. And all this time, she had been laughing at me behind my back. "Hazel, is there something you're keeping from me?" I asked. She didn't expect the direct question. Her eyes darted away, and she remained silent for a long moment before shaking her head. "Of course not, Fifi. Did someone say something to you?" Connor watched me, his body rigid with tension. I pulled my fingers from Hazel's grip, picked up my purse from the chair, and walked out. Hazel panicked, running after me and grabbing my coat from behind. "Fifi, you're still coming with us tomorrow, right?" I didn't answer her. Instead, I looked at Connor, whose face was a mask of anxiety. He forced a stiff smile and took my purse from my hand. "Come on, it's just a trip. I'll book the beach tickets right now. We'll head straight to Miami five days after we get back from Montana, okay?" He pulled out his phone and booked the tickets. Within twenty seconds, the confirmation screen popped up. My heart remained dead and silent. It turned out that booking those beach tickets wasn't difficult at all. It had only taken twenty seconds. I had just waited three years for them. Connor seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping as he insisted on driving me home. Hazel naturally slid into the front passenger seat. The dashboard still featured a pink custom decal that read: Princess Hazel's Seat. When Connor first got his license, I bought him several cute car decorations, but he threw them all away, claiming they blocked his view. Yet, Hazel's custom perfume bottle and matching phone mount were proudly displayed on his dashboard. I stared out the window, remaining silent as Hazel talked about wanting to eat bison steak two days in a row once they got to Montana. "Sure, whatever you want," Connor promised, his voice soft and indulgent. Neither of them remembered that I had been a vegetarian for years. But it didn't matter anymore. I watched the streetlights blur past the window. When the car finally stopped in front of my building, Connor looked back at me, his expression slightly apologetic. "Hazel has a lot of heavy bags, so it's going to be hard to hail a cab tomorrow morning. I'm going to pick her up first, drop her bags off at the shipping center, and then meet you at the station, okay?" He reached out to pat my hair, but I flinched away. His hand hovered in the air for a second before he slowly let it drop. "Okay. See you tomorrow," he murmured. I watched his car pull away, taking Hazel home. A notification popped up on my phone. My flight was departing in seven hours. I opened my weather app and checked the forecast for Miami. For the first time in years, my mind was completely at peace. The next morning, I arrived at the airport two hours early. Under the steady hum of the airport announcements, I went through security and boarded my flight. My phone vibrated constantly with messages from Connor and Hazel, asking where I was. I didn't reply. I simply opened my gallery and stared at the photos of the ocean. Connor didn't realize that the airport in Miami was right next to the beach, only a twenty-minute walk away. I didn't have to wait for him anymore. I didn't have to shape my life around Hazel's tantrums. Two hours later, the plane touched down safely. The warm, salty ocean breeze hit my face the moment I stepped outside. I let out a genuine, happy laugh. I turned off airplane mode. The next second, my phone buzzed with a highly specific, custom ringtone.
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