The classroom buzzed with the usual morning chaos—students shuffling in, laughter bouncing off the walls, and the occasional screech of chairs against the floor. I slumped into my seat, resting my chin on my palm as I stared blankly at the blackboard. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over everything.
*"You look like you just watched your dog get run over,"* Jasmine remarked, plopping down beside me with her usual lack of tact.
*"Or like she saw Treize with *her* again,"* Jean added with a smirk, nudging my shoulder.
I shot him a glare. *"Shut up."*
Jasmine rolled her eyes. *"You're so obvious, you know that? Every time he walks by with *her*, you turn into a zombie."*
I groaned, sinking lower in my seat. *"I don't wanna talk about it."*
*"Then don't,"* Coleen said, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head. *"But you're gonna keep sulking until you do."*
She wasn't wrong.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen Treize with *her*—Samantha, the ever-radiant, ever-perfect student who had somehow slipped into his life the moment I hesitated. And it wasn't the first time my chest had tightened at the sight of them together—his fingers laced with hers, his laughter ringing out like a melody meant only for her ears.
I could still remember the way he used to look at *her* in our first life—like she was the only person in the world who mattered. Back then, they had been inevitable. Maybe, they are inevitable in every lifetime. Maybe, I was just a cannon fodder in their life, meant to be the stepping stone for their relationship to grow even better. And this time? This time, I had been fantastical. I wanted to *know* him again, truly know him, before diving into something that had once burned me so bright it left scars. But now, that ship had long sailed since they are together now, and it is meant to be.
And then, just like that, he had walked away.
*"You're overthinking things, Carmela,"* he had snapped, his dark eyes flashing with frustration. *"If you're not sure about me now, then maybe you never will be."*
Two days later, he was holding Samantha's hand in the hallway.
A sharp jab to my ribs snapped me back to reality. *"Earth to Carmela,"* Jasmine said, waving a hand in front of my face. *"You're doing the zombie thing again."*
*"Sorry,"* I muttered, rubbing my side.
*"You know,"* Jean said, twirling a pen between his fingers, *"if you really want to get over him, you could always throw yourself into something else. Like, say, that guy you met during the debate trip?"*
My fingers twitched against my desk. *Raziel.*
We had met during an out-of-town school activity—a quiet, sharp-eyed transfer student who had a way of cutting through pretense with a single look. We hadn't talked much at first, but then he became my confidant and always had the ear to listen to me. He was the kind of man that most girls envision their boyfriend is going to be, with how he always looked put together, smart, friendly, and most of all kind in a way that he listened to your words and kept them in mind. He and I sometimes talked about things that were difficult to confide to with friends, but with each other, we could talk about it. But after the trip, when we returned to both our respective homes, our late-night texts had become a lifeline. He never pushed. Never assumed. Just *listened.*
*"That's different,"* I said, too quickly.
Jasmine, Jean, and Coleen exchanged a look.
*"Uh-huh,"* Jean drawled. *"Sure it is."*
Before I could retort, the classroom door swung open—but it wasn't our teacher.
A hush fell over the room as a group of seniors sauntered in, their presence shifting the air like a sudden change in weather. At the front of the pack was Jace Villanueva, the basketball team's star player, all easy confidence and lazy smirks. His gaze swept the room before landing on our table.
*"Uh oh,"* Coleen muttered. *"Incoming."*
Jace smirked as he approached, his friends flanking him like an entourage. *"You guys look like you're plotting something,"* he said, leaning against the edge of our table.
Jasmine crossed her arms. *"And you look like you've got nothing better to do than bother underclassmen."*
Jace chuckled, unfazed. *"Just making the rounds. Gotta keep an eye on the fresh meat."* His eyes lingered on me a second too long—long enough for my skin to prickle. Then, with a wink, he pushed off the table and strolled away, his friends trailing behind like shadows.
The moment they were gone, Jean exhaled dramatically. *"Man, I swear, those guys act like they own the school."*
*"They think it's cool,"* Coleen muttered.
But I barely heard them.
Because just then, the door opened again—and this time, it was *them.*
Treize and Samantha.
He held the door for her, his hand resting briefly on the small of her back as she stepped inside. She laughed at something he said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. And then, as if he could feel the weight of my stare, Treize glanced up.
Our eyes met.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Then he looked away.
*"Carmela?"* Jasmine's voice was uncharacteristically soft.
I swallowed hard, forcing my fingers to unclench from the edge of my desk. *"I'm fine."*
But I wasn't.
Because no matter how many lifetimes passed, some wounds never really healed.
And today—like every day since he chose her—was just another reminder.
---
The bell rang, signaling the end of the class. I gathered my things slowly, not in any particular hurry. As I stood up, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I found Aisha standing there, her expression unreadable.
*"Hey,"* she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Hey," I replied, offering a small smile.
"You okay?" she asked, her gaze searching mine.
I hesitated. "Yeah... just... a lot on my mind."
*"Can we talk?"*
I nodded, following her out of the classroom and into the courtyard. The noise of the school faded as we walked in silence.
Finally, Aisha spoke. *"I know things have been... complicated."* She paused, choosing her words carefully. *"But I want you to know that I'm here for you. Not just as a friend, but as someone who understands what you're going through."*
I looked at her, surprised. *"You do?"*
She nodded, the asked
"Wanna talk about it?"
I shook my head. "Not right now."
She nodded. *"I may not have been in your shoes, but I've seen enough to know how it feels to be left behind. To watch someone you care about move on with someone else."*
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I had always seen Aisha as the strong one, the one who had it all together and to hear her admit to feeling the same pain is somewhat unbelievable.
She fell into step beside me as we walked out of the school together.
"You know," she said after a while, "sometimes, the hardest part isn't letting go. It's learning to move on."
I glanced at her, surprised by her insight. "You sound like you've been through it."
She shrugged. "Everyone has their own battles."
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of the day pressing down on us. As we reached the corner where our paths diverged, she stopped and offered me a soft smile and turned to leave, I stood at the crossroads—where the past no longer held me, and the future waited, quietly, for me to finally choose myself.