Love me after him

Fiona sat in the back row of the classroom, her notebook open, a blank page waiting for a thought that refused to come. The air smelled faintly of dry marker and old textbooks, but she barely noticed. Her eyes, as they so often were, were fixed on her book thinking of one person. Jason Williams. Even his name sounded like it belonged in a movie. Tall, sharp-jawed, effortlessly confident—he wasn’t just popular; he owned the hallways of Lakefield High, he and his two other friends Diego and Frank. They had a way of commanding space without even trying. Teachers loved them, students envied them and girls adored them. And Fiona? Fiona loved him. Quietly. Painfully. Faithfully. From a distance. It had started in grade seven, when he came to her class to meet his cousin sister Danielle. It was stupid, insignificant, barely a moment—but it had changed everything. Since then, she had constructed an entire emotional universe around him: watching him from afar, noticing the smallest things—how he chewed the inside of his cheek when he was thinking, how he always tied his shoes twice before gym class, how he ran his hand through his hair when he was frustrated. He was sunlight, and she was a flower that had spent years growing toward him, even if he never noticed. “Fiona?” The voice snapped her back. Mrs. Trent stood at the front of the room, arms folded, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Can you give us the answer to question five?” Heat rushed to Fiona’s face. She had no idea what question five was. She murmured an apology and looked down, pretending to flip through her notes. The bell rang a few moments later, the sound echoing in her chest like a reminder—one more day gone, one more day he hadn’t seen her. She lingered at her desk, packing up slowly, waiting looking at him in his class through her class window. It was always like this. She didn’t want to stay in same place with him. She just wanted to watch him from afar. Maybe catch a glimpse. Maybe breathe the same air. Outside the classroom, the hallway buzzed with life. Friends greeted each other, lockers slammed, someone’s music leaked from their headphones. And there he was. Jason leaned against his locker, talking to Jenna, the cheer captain, she had perfect curls and the kind of beauty that turned heads without trying. She laughed at something he said, tilting her head just enough for her hand to brush his arm. Fiona’s stomach twisted. She walked past them, eyes forward, as if the ache in her chest wasn’t growing with every step. He didn’t even look up. Again. “You have to let him go,” her best friend Lila had told her once. “You’ve given him enough of your heart already.” Fiona had tried. She had tried to forget him. She had dated once—if you could call it that. A guy named Marcus from math class. He was sweet, but it wasn’t the same. Being with him felt like pretending. Like putting on someone else’s shoes and trying to convince yourself they fit. They didn’t. After school, Fiona walked home alone. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. She clutched her backpack tighter and tried to shake the day off, but Jason’s image lingered. It always did. At home, her mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she stirred something on the stove. The smell of stew filled the air, comforting but heavy. Her mother glanced at her, eyes warm but questioning. “Long day?” Fiona nodded, managing a weak smile. “Yeah.” She retreated to her room, dropped her bag on the floor, and pulled out the old leather-bound journal she kept hidden in her desk. It was filled with entries—some poetic, some raw, some barely legible through the ink-smudged tears. She flipped to a new page and began to write. > He doesn’t know what it’s like to love someone from the shadows. To watch them live a life you can never be a part of. He’s beautiful. And I’m invisible. Her pen hovered over the page for a moment before she closed the journal and pressed it to her chest. There was a strange comfort in writing. Like at least the page listened, even if he never did. The next morning came too soon. Fiona dressed in her usual black jeans, hoodie, and boots. She braided her hair carefully, the same way every day—neat, clean, contained. Like the rest of her life. At school, she tried not to look for him. She tried to focus on her classes, on Lila’s chatter, on the buzzing of her phone. But it didn’t matter. Her eyes found him anyway. Jason in the hallway, tossing a football casually with a friend. Jason in the cafeteria, laughing at something on his phone. Jason, just being—while Fiona quietly unraveled. She didn’t know it then, but this was the last year things would be this way. Because life, in all its cruel and brilliant unpredictability, was about to give her something else. Someone else. And his name… was Jared.