1 At the shopping mall, my boyfriend and my best friend were arguing yet again over which dress to buy me. Connor insisted on the pink one. He claimed it was soft but striking, a shade he found particularly beautiful. Becca, however, scoffed at his taste, dismissing it as typical straight-guy blindness. She was determined to make me buy the green one. "If you want your love to grow, you've got to let the green show!" Becca chimed, throwing her arm around my shoulder. "Besides, Kate’s skin is always a little dry and dull. This deep green is the perfect contrast to hide her flaws." They bickered back and forth, entirely wrapped up in each other. I quietly put both dresses down on the display rack. "I don't like either the pink or the green," I said, my voice flat. "I want to get this blue one instead." Connor's expression soured for a brief second, but the moment he turned back to Becca, a playful smirk returned to his face. He nudged her shoulder, his tone dripping with mock triumph. "Hear that? She didn't choose your green either. Looks like you lose!" Becca shot him an annoyed glare, instantly sticking her tongue out to make a childish face. "Oh, please! That’s still a million times better than choosing your grandpa-level pink!" They laughed and shoved each other playfully, the air around them thick with a warm, exclusive chemistry. I stood right beside them, yet it felt as though an invisible, solid wall separated me from their shared world. Noticing the downward curve of my mouth, Connor let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Seriously, Kate? If I don't spend time with you, you complain. When I do, you stand there throwing a tantrum. Why are you always so impossible to please?" Before I could speak, Becca instantly stepped in front of me, glaring at him. "If you don't want to treat our Kate right, then don't date her, you clueless jerk! Who do you think you are? Kate has plenty of guys lined up if you decide to walk away!" The heavy tension was instantly broken by her dramatic defense, and they slipped right back into their playful banter. I knew I was supposed to laugh along with them. But no matter how hard I tried, the smile wouldn't come. It had always been this way. When the three of us were together, no one ever seemed truly angry, yet I was never truly happy. That was why, when the final deadline for our college applications came, I secretly changed my choice. I bypassed all the universities in the North that we had planned to attend, and chose Southern University instead. Since the laughter of three people had become too loud for me to bear, I decided it was time to quietly step out of the frame. At the checkout counter, Connor bought both the pink and the green dresses anyway. Becca wrapped her arm around my shoulder, giving me a knowing look. "Kate, take notes. Men are like dogs: you have to stand your ground to make them appreciate you." My throat felt dry. I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her that I had stood my ground. I had explicitly stated which dress I wanted. But did Connor ever actually care about my opinion? No. He only cared about yours. Before the words could form, Becca giggled and darted behind Connor, landing a playful punch on his back. He spun around, his face dark with irritation. "Kate, can you stop being so annoying!" he snapped. But the moment he realized it was Becca, the anger melted from his face. A soft, indulgent smile took its place. "You little troublemaker," he muttered, shaking his head. I chose to say nothing. Instead, I took out my phone, searched for the blue dress I actually liked, and quietly placed an order online. Carrying the heavy shopping bags in my hands and wearing the stiff, ill-fitting shoes Connor had bought for me, my steps grew heavier and slower. Neither Connor nor Becca noticed. They were walking ahead, animatedly discussing their plans for university in the North. By the time they realized I was missing, they were already several yards ahead. Becca jogged back to grab my arm, smiling brightly. "Kate, did you end up applying to that local teacher's college I recommended?" "If you become a teacher, you'll get summers off," she continued. "It'll be so much easier for you to take care of the kids later on." Connor laughed, reaching out to pat my head as if I were a golden retriever. "Are you kidding? With her grades, she'd be doing those kids a disservice. She's definitely going to the nursing school I suggested." "We'll be doctors, and Kate can assist us," he added warmly. "The three of us will stay together forever. How perfect is that?" I flinched away from his hand, stepping back. "My entrance scores were twenty points above the top-tier cut-off," I said, keeping my voice even. "My counselor said I can easily get into a much better university. Why should I settle for a community college?" Becca's cheerful smile froze instantly. Connor’s brow furrowed, his tone turning cold. "That was just a stroke of luck, Kate. With your actual academic strength, even if you manage to get into a top-tier school, you'll just end up struggling at the bottom of the class." "It's better to be a big fish in a small pond," he added. Seeing the atmosphere turn icy, Becca quickly grabbed my arm again, laughing it off. "Alright, let's not get worked up over nothing." "We're only looking out for you, Kate," she said softly. "You're going to marry Connor anyway, so a fancy degree doesn't really matter for you." I looked her in the eyes, speaking clearly. "If a degree doesn't matter, why did Connor spend three days and nights researching universities for you?" Becca's hand slipped off my arm. The color drained from her face, and her eyes welled with tears. "So that's what this is about," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Kate, do you read too many romance novels? Do you honestly think I’m trying to steal your boyfriend? Is our friendship really that cheap to you? Do you really think that lowly of me?" She drew a sharp, shaky breath, but her emotions boiled over. She burst into tears and ran off toward the street. Connor shot me a look of pure disgust before running after her without a single second of hesitation. He caught up to her at the curb just as she was waving down a taxi. Instead of letting her go, he slid into the backseat right beside her. My eyesight had always been painfully sharp. I saw clearly through the rear window: the moment he pulled her into the cab, he took her hand, and he didn't let go. The heavy shopping bags had cut deep red welts into my palms, burning with a dull ache. The stiff shoes had rubbed raw blisters onto my heels, making every step excruciating. I walked over to the nearest trash can, threw both dresses and the shoes inside, and walked away. After transferring the exact amount for the clothes to Connor's account, I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket to the South. Becca was right about one thing: it was time for me to stand my ground. The next morning, Becca knocked on my door. The moment I opened it, she shoved a warm container into my hands, her expression a mix of lingering annoyance and affection. "Alright, besties don't hold grudges overnight. I stayed up to bake your favorite pastries to apologize." Connor was standing right beside her, a soft smile on his face. He reached out to pat my head, his voice gentle. "I had to spend half the night calming her down yesterday, Kate. You owe me a pretty big thank-you for this." I felt a cold laugh bubble up in my chest. It was always like this. He couldn't bear to see Becca sad, yet he always framed it as a favor to me, as if I had begged him to comfort her. I wanted to slam the door in their faces. But Becca had already slipped past me into the apartment, dragging me toward the dining table. She popped open the container, looking at me expectantly. "You love sweet palmiers. I woke up at five in the morning to make these, and I almost sliced my finger open." "Just take a bite and forgive me, okay, sweet Kate?" I stared at the beautifully baked, golden pastries. A sudden memory surfaced of when I first met Becca at eight years old. We had bonded over a box of these exact pastries. Back then, my parents were finalizing their messy divorce, and neither of them wanted custody of me. When they moved out, they left me behind in the empty apartment. I couldn't find them, and the landlord eventually threw me out onto the street. I sat on the curb, crying my eyes out, when Becca walked by. She brought me to her home and shared her palmiers with me. From that day on, she was my protector. Even when Connor and I first started dating, Becca got incredibly drunk one night and held a plastic butter knife to his neck, forcing him to swear an oath that he would never break my heart. How did we end up here? With a heavy heart, I picked up a palmier and took a bite. The pastry looked perfect, but the taste was overwhelmingly, violently salty. My reflexes kicked in, and I immediately grabbed a tissue to spit it out. The warmth vanished from Becca's face instantly. She didn't yell. Instead, her eyes turned red, and she looked at me with a trembling lip. "Do you really hate me that much now? You can't even stand to swallow something I made for you?" Connor smacked the table, glaring at me with dark eyes. "That is enough, Kate! Don't you think you're being incredibly cruel?" "Becca woke up before dawn just to make sure you got these fresh," he shouted. "Her eyes are completely bloodshot! How can you stomp on her heart like this?" I let out a quiet, mocking laugh. I picked up another pastry and shoved it directly into Connor's mouth. His brow furrowed instantly, his face contorting from the intense saltiness. It was clear he was gagging. Yet, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to swallow the entire thing without taking a single sip of water. He forced a calm expression, his voice strained. "It's a little salty, but it tastes fine. You're just looking for an excuse to hurt her!" Looking at his pained, defensive face, I lost all desire to argue. When someone's heart is entirely biased, any explanation is just a waste of breath. I stood up, ready to show them the door. But Becca suddenly grabbed my arm, her eyes still watery. "Alright, let's not let a silly mistake ruin the mood." "Connor and I were talking. Since we're going to spend the next four years in the North, we should go early and get used to the area." "We put together a week-long travel itinerary. Take a look and see if there's anything you want to change." She pulled out her tablet, going over the plans in detail. But as I looked at the screen, all I saw was a list of pre-booked double packages for couples, alongside a series of isolated, single-person bookings. The couples' bookings were for them. The single bookings were for me. Even for the activities that offered group packages for three, they had deliberately kept me separate. I stared at their eager, animated faces. "Did either of you ask for my input before booking any of this?" I asked quietly. "Did you actually care about what I wanted to do?" Connor's expression darkened. Becca, however, remained cheerful. "We’re asking you right now! Why stress over the details anyway? Connor and I will handle all the logistics, and you just get to enjoy the ride. Isn't that perfect?" She giggled, looking up at Connor. He returned her look with a soft smile, shrugging. "Whatever I say, she's going to find a reason to complain. Not everyone knows how to appreciate a good thing, Becca." They went right back to their private dialogue, completely shutting me out. Neither of them noticed that my skin was flushing an unnatural red, or that thick, itchy hives were rapidly blooming across my arms. I reached out, tightly gripping Becca's arm. "What did you put in those pastries?" I managed to gasp out. She looked down at my arm, and her eyes went wide with panic. "Oh my god! I used mango extract instead of vanilla! I forgot you're allergic to mangoes!" "Kate, don't panic! I'll find your medicine!" She began frantically tearing through my cabinets. The burning itch on my skin felt like thousands of ants crawling beneath my flesh. I could barely breathe. "Don't bother looking," I choked out. "Just call an ambulance!" But Becca ignored me, insisting on searching the apartment. My chest tightened, and a sharp cry of pain escaped my lips. Suddenly, Becca burst into tears. She ran to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of kiwi juice, and chugged the entire thing. Connor, who had been hoveringly frantic beside us, went pale. He violently snatched the bottle from her hand, pulling her into his arms with absolute terror. He looked up at me, his teeth gritted in pure rage. "You knew she was allergic to kiwi! Why would you keep this in your fridge?" "Just because you're in pain, you have to make sure everyone else suffers with you? Are you happy now?" He didn't wait for the ambulance. He scooped Becca up in his arms, checked his phone for the nearest clinic, and stormed out of the apartment. I reached out, weakly catching the hem of his jeans, crying out that I couldn't breathe. He paused for a fraction of a second, but then his face hardened. "You've had allergic reactions before, Kate. It's never been life-threatening." "Becca is different. Her immune system has been weak lately. She can't handle this!" He kicked my hand away and ran down the corridor. I stared at the empty doorway, my vision blurring. Before darkness took me, the only thing left on my face was a cold, hopeless smile. When I woke up, the white ceiling of the hospital room came into focus. The doctor told me I had been unconscious for three days. Connor and Becca had been there the entire time. The nurse who changed my IV drip couldn't help but sigh in envy. "You're incredibly lucky, you know. To have a boyfriend and a best friend who care about you this much." "Your friend was sobbing the entire time you were asleep. She was terrified." "And your boyfriend didn't sleep for days. Your friend offered to watch over you at night, but he refused, saying he didn't want her to exhaust herself." I let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh but didn't say a word. Connor didn't stay awake out of devotion to me. He did it because he couldn't bear to let Becca suffer through a night shift. After completing my discharge paperwork, I rescheduled my flight to the South for the following week. On my way to the transit station, I noticed a large crowd gathered outside a bridal shop. They were hosting a promotional event. Any couple that stood on the stage and kissed for ten seconds or more would win a prize, ranging from insulated mugs to Disney plushies. The couple that broke the longest-kiss record would win a rare, limited-edition Buzz Lightyear figure. I was about to walk past. But my eyes caught two familiar figures locked in an intense embrace on the stage, and I froze. The host was practically screaming into his microphone. "Three! Two! One! Congratulations to our young lovers! You've officially shattered the record!" "You get to take home the limited-edition Buzz Lightyear!" Even after the countdown ended, they didn't separate. They remained locked together, their kiss deep and desperate, as if they were alone in the world. They dragged it out for another three minutes, kissing until their lips were swollen and red. When Connor finally let go of Becca, his eyes were filled with an unmistakable, lingering tenderness. As she took the box from the host, Becca whispered in his ear. "Make sure you hide this well. Don't let Kate find out we got it this way, or she'll never let us hear the end of it." Connor smiled, murmuring, "Understood, captain." But as he turned his head, his eyes locked right onto mine. Becca froze. The collectible box slipped from her fingers, hitting the pavement with a sharp crack. I had nothing left to say. I turned around and walked away. Becca broke into a run, grabbing my wrist. "Kate, let me explain... please." "I knew you wanted this figure. Connor and I searched every store in the city but couldn't find it. This was the only place that had it, so we..." "Other than this kiss, I swear on my life we've never done anything to betray you!" Connor coughed uncomfortably, coming up to take my other hand. "Look, Kate, I apologize for not telling you beforehand." "But Becca is your best friend, and she only did this because she wanted to get you a gift. You need to be reasonable and appreciate her effort." I coldly yanked my hand away from his grip. In the movement, my bag struck the collectible box, sending it flying onto the busy street. A passing SUV ran directly over it, crushing the plastic and metal into a thousand pieces. Becca's face flushed red. The tears she had been holding back erupted. "Kate, how long are you going to torture me?" she screamed, her voice cracking. "I’ve put up with your cold shoulder, I even suffered an allergic reaction right alongside you!" "For years, I've put your feelings first! I’ve treated your life as more important than my own!" "But what about you? You are so incredibly selfish! Do you think I wanted to kiss Connor? Do you have any idea how much my lips hurt right now?" "No, you don't! Because you only care about your own stupid pride! You don't care about our friendship at all!" The drama quickly drew the attention of the surrounding crowd. Passersby began to whisper, pointing at me with disapproving looks. "What a terrible attitude. How can she treat her friend like that?" "She probably thinks she's some kind of princess, expecting everyone to worship her." "That poor girl is so unlucky to have a friend like her." I looked over at a young woman in the crowd who was nodding along righteously. "Is that so?" I said, my voice dead calm. "Then I wish you a friend exactly like her. A friend who whispers to your boyfriend when you're right there, and who locks tongues with him just to win you a present." The girl's face went white. The whispers in the crowd died down instantly, the looks of pity shifting toward Becca. Connor immediately stepped in front of Becca, shielding her from the crowd's gaze. He glared at me as if I were his worst enemy. "Kate! This is between us. Why do you always have to drag other people into it?" Becca wept behind him, shaking her head. "Don't blame her, Connor. Kate grew up without parents, so she’s always had severe trust issues. It's my fault." Connor gently wiped a tear from her cheek, his voice cold and flat. "No wonder her parents abandoned her when they divorced. If I had a child that selfish, I wouldn't want her either." My foot remained suspended in the air, unable to take the next step. My heart felt as though it had been fed into a meat grinder, shredded into a bloody, agonizing mess. Suddenly, a loud engine roared. A runaway motorcycle lost control, veering directly toward us on the sidewalk. Without a single thought, Connor threw his arms around Becca, diving to the side and shielding her body with his own. I was a second too slow. The metal frame of the bike clipped my side, throwing me onto the hard pavement. The impact scraped the skin off my arms and legs, a burning pain radiating through my entire body. Connor’s eyes went wide. He scrambled to his feet, letting go of Becca to run toward me. But as I struggled to stand, I pushed his hand away. Behind him, Becca let out a frightened sob. Connor looked at me, then looked back at her. He turned back to her. I didn't wait. I dragged my bruised body to the curb, hailed a taxi, and headed straight for the airport. On the way, I messaged a neighbor to pack up my remaining things and ship them to the South. Then, I changed my ticket to the earliest flight available. While waiting at the boarding gate, I sat quietly, cleaning the gravel out of my scrapes. My phone buzzed with several voice messages from Connor. I didn't listen to any of them. Instead, I went into my photo gallery, pulled up the image of my college admission letter, and sent it to him. Right in the center of the page, the bold letters read: Southern University.
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