HE LOVED ME LAST

Chapter 60

Lucas’s POV

I left the party early.

Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t wait for the last song. Didn’t dance with Amelia.

I’d done my part—wore the suit, smiled for the cameras, accepted the title.

Prom King.

What a joke.

None of it mattered. Not when the one person I wanted to look at me… wouldn’t.

Alice didn’t even glance my way after we stepped off that stage.

She smiled with Noah.

Laughed with him.

Like I wasn’t even in the room.

And for the first time, I believed it—maybe she really didn’t care.

Maybe I meant nothing all along.

And I hated how much that idea hurt.

I walked the school grounds alone, loosened my tie, crown shoved in my bag. The air was quiet now, cool against my skin. The music had faded behind the doors.

I sat on a bench outside the gym and stared up at the stars.

Why did I keep hoping she’d come to me?

Why did I keep thinking she felt it too?

The library nights. The project. That night I followed her home and asked the question I never thought I’d ask.

*Can we just be friends?*

She said yes.

Then she walked away.

And now she had Noah.

Maybe she always needed someone… just not me.

The door creaked behind me. I didn’t turn. Probably a teacher.

But part of me hoped.

Hoped it was her.

Just to say something. Anything.

But the footsteps faded in the other direction.

So I stayed there alone.

Prom king.

Without a queen.

And nothing left to chase.

I don’t know how long I sat there.

Long enough for the laughter and music inside to fade. Long enough for the wind to chill through my shirt. Long enough to finally admit something I hadn’t wanted to.

*I miss her.*

Not just the teasing, or the rivalry, or even the moments in the library.

I missed *her.*

The girl who would roll her eyes at my sarcasm, but still smirk as she walked away. The one who told me off and didn’t care who I was. Who beat me in reading competitions and never let me live it down. Who made school—the same halls I’d grown bored of—actually feel real.

I messed it up.

I pushed when I should’ve paused. I mocked her when I should’ve listened. I thought we were playing a game, but she wasn’t.

Not anymore.

And now, watching her move on—laughing with someone who treated her like she deserved—felt like losing a fight I didn’t even realize I was in.

The worst part?

She didn’t even *look* back.

No anger. No sarcasm. No “Oh please, Lucas.”

Just... silence.

Maybe that was the loudest thing she could’ve given me.

So I stood.

Pulled my blazer tighter.

And left the bench behind.

If she was done fighting, maybe I should be too.