More Than Just Us

The Lines Blur

Kiko never thought laughter could sting. But that night, as he leaned against the backrest of the cafeteria chair, watching Kaye laugh a little too freely at something Adrian said, it did.

It wasn’t even that funny—just one of those exaggerated stories Adrian loved telling. But Kaye’s eyes crinkled, her shoulders shook, and she nudged Adrian’s arm in mock disbelief. And for some reason, that small, ordinary gesture made something coil tight in Kiko’s chest.

He told himself it was nothing. He told himself he was just tired. He told himself Kaye was his best friend—she was supposed to laugh like that around him, not… not anyone else.

And yet.

“Bro, you okay?” Marco’s voice cut through his thoughts, dragging his attention back to the group. “You’ve been glaring holes into Adrian for five minutes.”

Kiko forced a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not. Chill.”

But the lie tasted bitter. Because maybe he was.

Adrian slid into the seat next to Kaye, and Kiko’s jaw clenched. He was used to being the one beside her—the one who got her side comments, her playful nudges, her soft, absentminded hums when she was comfortable. Now Adrian was sitting there like he belonged.

“So, Kaye,” Adrian said, leaning in just a fraction too close, “about that art exhibit this weekend—you still up for it?”

Kaye hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah… maybe. I’ll see if I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll save you a spot,” Adrian grinned.

Kiko couldn’t stop the sharpness in his voice. “She’s busy this weekend.”

Everyone looked at him.

Kaye blinked, surprised. “Uh… I didn’t say that.”

“You’ve got your cousin’s thing,” Kiko blurted out, not even sure what he was reaching for. He just knew he didn’t want her saying yes.

Kaye’s brows furrowed slightly. “That’s next week, Kiks.”

Heat climbed up his neck. He covered it with a shrug, forcing a laugh. “Right. My bad.”

Adrian only smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Well, if you’re free, Kaye, you know where to find me.”

Kiko’s fist tightened under the table.

Later that afternoon, when most of their friends had left, Kaye lingered to pack her books. Kiko hovered close, restless.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Kaye said softly, without looking up.

“I want to.” The words came out sharper than he intended, almost defensive.

Kaye finally met his gaze, eyes questioning. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, then blurted, “Do you have to hang out with Adrian so much?”

The air between them stilled.

Kaye tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. “Adrian’s just a friend. Why?”

“He’s not—” Kiko bit the inside of his cheek, searching for the right words. “He’s not exactly subtle. You know he likes you, right?”

Her brows drew together. “And? That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

Because you’re mine. The words screamed in his chest, but he swallowed them down, choking on the truth he couldn’t name. Instead, he muttered, “I just don’t like how he looks at you.”

Kaye’s lips parted in surprise. For a second, something unreadable flashed in her eyes. Then she exhaled softly, shaking her head. “You’re being weird, Kiks.”

Weird. Maybe he was. He was Lianne’s boyfriend—at least, sort of. She’d been texting him all day, calling twice, asking where he was. He hadn’t answered yet. Not because he forgot. Because he didn’t want to deal with her—not when Kaye was standing here, looking at him with that mix of frustration and… something else.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just—never mind.”

Kaye didn’t push, but she didn’t smile either. She only slung her bag over her shoulder and said quietly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That night, Kiko sat on his bed, phone buzzing with Lianne’s name lighting up the screen. He should answer. He should reassure her. But instead, he scrolled back through his gallery—through random candids of Kaye he’d taken without thinking.

Her laugh at the street food stall. Her annoyed-but-secretly-smiling face when he stole her fries. Her sleepy eyes during an all-nighter.

He realized then that he’d been collecting her in pieces.

The phone buzzed again. He let it ring.

Because all he could think about was the way Kaye’s expression dimmed today—the way she pulled back, the way she didn’t smile at him like before.

And for the first time, Kiko wondered if maybe… he was the one losing her.