More Than Just Us

Learning to Step Back

Kaye wasn’t used to walking through the hallways without Kiko by her side. For years, they had been each other’s shadow—laughing, teasing, fighting over silly things. But lately, silence had crept in between them, and she was tired of filling it with forced smiles.

So when Mira started pulling her into her circle more often, Kaye let it happen.

She discovered that Adrian, Mira’s cousin, was funny in an easy, effortless way. He was quick with jokes, and though sometimes his confidence bordered on cocky, Kaye didn’t mind. It was refreshing. He didn’t ask for her time with heavy expectations. He didn’t glance at his phone in the middle of a conversation, distracted by someone else calling his name.

Being around him felt lighter—like she could finally breathe.

That afternoon, they were all gathered in the campus garden, books open but mostly forgotten. Adrian was telling a story about his old school, complete with dramatic impressions of his former teachers, and everyone doubled over in laughter.

Kaye laughed too—genuine this time. And for a moment, she forgot to feel guilty about it.

“See? You have a great laugh,” Adrian said, flashing a grin. “Told you Mira wasn’t exaggerating.”

Kaye rolled her eyes, though her smile lingered. “You’re just saying that because you want me to treat you to coffee.”

“Maybe,” Adrian teased. “But only because I know you’ll say yes.”

Mira groaned. “Ugh, stop flirting with my friend, bro. You’re embarrassing.”

Kaye laughed again, shaking her head. She didn’t see the shadow standing a few meters away, watching them.

Kiko had been on his way to meet her. He had even picked up her favorite bread from the cafeteria, planning to surprise her. But now, standing at a distance, he froze.

There she was, laughing—brighter than she had in days. But not because of him.

Adrian leaned closer, and Kaye didn’t pull away. Her eyes crinkled as she laughed again, and Kiko felt something ugly rise in his chest.

He clenched the paper bag in his hand until it crumpled. Suddenly, the bread didn’t matter anymore.

Later, when classes ended, Kaye gathered her things from her locker. She nearly jumped when Kiko appeared beside her.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied, a little cautious.

There was a pause. His eyes darted to her books, then back to her face. “So… you’ve been hanging out with Mira’s cousin a lot.”

Kaye raised a brow. “Adrian? Yeah, he’s new. Mira keeps dragging me along.”

Kiko hesitated, then asked, “You like him?”

Kaye blinked, caught off guard. The question was blunt, almost defensive. “What? No. He’s just a friend.”

“Right,” Kiko muttered, shifting on his feet. “It just looked like you were… I don’t know. Having fun.”

Something in his tone made her heart twist. She wanted to say, I could have fun with you too, if you didn’t keep choosing someone else. But the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she forced a small smile. “Isn’t that the point of friends? To have fun?”

Kiko didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, and he finally muttered, “Yeah. I guess.”

That night, Kaye lay in bed, staring at the glow of her phone screen. Her messages with Kiko were sparse now—short replies, scattered hours apart. He didn’t ask if she’d eaten. He didn’t send her silly memes at midnight.

She scrolled back through their old conversations—hundreds of lines filled with laughter, secrets, and inside jokes only they understood. It felt like reading a story that didn’t belong to her anymore.

Her chest ached.

She missed him.

But she also remembered sitting alone on the bleachers, waiting for him while he stayed with Lianne. She remembered him canceling plans last minute, apologizing half-heartedly, promising to “make it up to her” but never really doing so.

Kaye hugged her pillow tight. Maybe this was what she needed—to step back, to learn how to be okay without him. Because if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take.

The next day, Mira and Adrian invited her to grab coffee after class. Kaye almost said no—out of habit, out of hope that Kiko might ask her to hang out instead. But when she glanced at her phone, his last message was a curt: Busy. Catch you later.

So she said yes.

Inside the café, Adrian cracked another joke that made Mira groan and Kaye snort into her drink. The moment felt simple, harmless. But when she looked out the window, her smile faltered.

Across the street, Kiko was standing by his motorcycle, helmet dangling from his hand. His eyes found hers through the glass, and for a brief, breathless second, neither of them looked away.

Kaye’s heart stumbled.

Kiko’s gaze was sharp, almost accusing. Then, just like that, he turned away, strapping his helmet on before riding off.

Mira nudged her. “You okay? You spaced out.”

Kaye forced a smile, ignoring the lump in her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

That night, she couldn’t stop replaying the way Kiko had looked at her—the jealousy flickering in his eyes, the hurt he didn’t bother hiding.

A part of her felt guilty. Another part… couldn’t help but feel a spark of something else.

Because maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize what it felt like to be on the other side.