EX OR NEXT

*2:14 AM* The text lit up my phone and ended my life. _I can’t do this anymore. We’re done._ _- Ethan_ Six words. Two years. Gone. I read it three times because drunk brains are stupid like that. Maybe if I read it again the words would rearrange into _"JK I love you come home."_ They didn’t. The sidewalk was cold under my thighs. I didn’t remember sitting down. One minute I was outside the bar with my friends, laughing too loud. The next I was here. Alone. My phone slipped from my hand. The screen cracked. Fitting. “Chloe?” Some guy from econ walked past. He kept walking. I laughed. It came out wrong. Wet and broken. “Too much,” I whispered to nobody. “That’s what he said. I’m too much.” Too emotional. Too clingy. Too loud. Too in love. Too much. The wind picked up. I was wearing Ethan’s hoodie. The gray one with the hole in the cuff that I kept saying I’d sew. It still smelled like him. Laundry detergent and that stupid cologne he wore to make himself feel like a main character. I pulled the sleeves over my hands and made a promise to the empty street. “I’m gonna make you regret me, Ethan,” I said out loud. My voice cracked on his name. “You’re gonna see me and you’re gonna choke on it.” Big words for a girl sitting in a puddle of cheap wine and mascara. Across the street, a car was parked. Engine off. No headlights. I didn’t notice it. Not then. --- *2:27 AM* My phone buzzed again. Not Ethan. Tasha. _where tf are u_ _answer me chloe_ _im coming to get u_ I tried to type back. My fingers wouldn’t work. The screen was cracked right through the middle of her name. Tasha. Ride or die. The girl who did my eyeliner before every party and told me to dump him three months ago when he “needed space.” I should’ve listened. Headlights hit me. Not the quiet car across the street. A different one. Yellow Uber, music too loud. “Miss? You okay?” “Go away,” I said. It sounded small. The car across the street didn’t move. Inside it, Lucas watched. He’d been there for twenty minutes. Ever since he saw Ethan stumble out of the bar alone, face red, phone in his hand. Ever since he saw Chloe follow thirty seconds later, and then stop. Lucas didn’t like Ethan. Never had. Ethan was the type of guy who said “bro” too much and took credit for group projects. But this? This was different. He saw her sit down. He saw the text light up her face. He saw her crumple. His hands gripped the steering wheel. _Get out. Go to her._ _Don’t. You’ll make it worse. She doesn’t need another guy tonight._ So he did the only thing he could. He pulled out his phone. _To: Tasha_ _Campus sidewalk. By the fountain. Now._ Then he put the phone down and kept watching. Because someone had to. --- *2:41 AM* Tires screeched. “TASHA’S HERE BITCHES!” The passenger door flew open and Tasha was out before the car even stopped. Bonnet on her head. Oversized sweatshirt. No makeup. Fury in her eyes. “Get up,” she said. No hello. No are-you-okay. Just: “Get. Up.” “I can’t,” I mumbled. “I’m sticky.” “I don’t care if you’re on fire. Get up.” She grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet. I swayed. The world tilted. Tasha smelled like coffee and vanilla and safety. “Who did this?” she asked, even though she knew. “Ethan,” I said. And then, because drunk me had no filter: “He said I was too much.” Tasha’s jaw ticked. “Babe,” she said, soft now. Softer than I’d ever heard her. “You’re not too much. He was too little.” I started crying. Really crying. Ugly, snotty, shoulder-shaking crying. Tasha didn’t shush me. She just pulled me into a hug and let me ruin her sweatshirt. “We’re not doing this on the sidewalk,” she muttered into my hair. “We’re not dying here. You hear me? We’re not crying over him. We’re glowing over him.” I hiccuped. “Glow up?” “Glow up,” she confirmed. “Rule one: no contact. Rule two: gym. Rule three: new hair. Rule four: we become the girl he cries about at 3am.” “That’s four rules.” “I’m mad. I get extra rules.” She bundled me into her car. The heat hit me and I realized how cold I was. As she pulled away, I glanced back. The car across the street was still there. For half a second I thought I saw movement. A shadow behind the wheel. Then Tasha turned the corner and it was gone. --- *3:05 AM* Tasha’s apartment smelled like takeout and candles. She sat me on the couch, shoved water and Advil into my hands, and took a picture. “Why?” I asked, voice hoarse. “Evidence,” she said. “This is rock bottom. Tomorrow we start climbing.” The picture was bad. Puffy eyes. Smeared eyeliner. Ethan’s hoodie drowning me. I looked like grief. Tasha posted it to our private story with the caption: _project glow up: day 1._ Then she turned to me. “Tell me what happened.” So I did. The fight earlier. The way he went quiet. The text. “He didn’t even call,” I said at the end. “Just text.” Tasha’s expression went flat. The kind of flat that meant someone was about to get blocked on everything. “Okay,” she said. “New plan. We’re not just glowing up. We’re becoming unrecognizable.” She started pacing. “Gym membership. Therapy. New wardrobe. Hair. We cut it. We dye it. We—” “Tasha.” “What?” “Why do I feel like this is my fault?” She stopped pacing and came to sit next to me. “Because he told you it was. But it’s not.” She bumped my shoulder. “It’s his fault for being scared of a girl who loves big. And it’s our job to make sure he sees what he lost every time he opens Instagram.” I managed a laugh. It hurt. “Promise me something,” I said. “Anything.” “Promise we won’t text him. Even if I beg.” “Promise,” Tasha said. Then she grinned. “But I’m not promising I won’t drunk-text his mom.” I laughed for real this time. It felt like the first real breath I’d taken all night. --- *3:22 AM* Across campus, Lucas sat in his car. The engine was still off. His phone was in his hand. The last text to Tasha was marked delivered. He didn’t know why he’d sent it. He barely knew Chloe. They had one class together. He’d held the door for her once and she’d smiled. That was it. But he’d seen her tonight. Really seen her. And he’d seen Ethan walk away. His thumb hovered over a new text. _You good?_ He deleted it. Too much. Too soon. She’d think he was weird. A creep. Instead he set an alarm. *10:02 PM. Check in.* He didn’t know why 10:02. It was just the time he’d first noticed her. October 2nd. First day of fall semester. She’d been late to lecture and her hair was wet from the rain and she’d apologized to the whole room. 10:02. He’d remember that. Lucas started the car. The campus was quiet. As he drove past the fountain, he thought he could still see a wet spot on the sidewalk where she’d been sitting. “Be okay,” he whispered to the empty street. Then he drove home. --- *BACK AT TASHA’S* I fell asleep on her couch with the TV on and Tasha’s arm around me. The last thing I heard before I passed out was her whispering into her phone. “We start tomorrow. Gym at 7. And Tasha? No mercy.” Outside, the city was quiet. Inside, I was making a vow. I wasn’t going to be the girl who got dumped by text. I was going to be the girl he regretted. And somewhere across campus, a boy set an alarm for 10:02pm. Because some people leave. And some people stay. Even when you don’t know you need them yet.