Vise Versa

Monday came like a wave no one wanted to stand under.

At school, everything felt quieter. Not in volume — the halls still buzzed with teenage chaos — but in tone. The silence that mattered was between glances that didn't hold like they used to. Between people who used to speak in shorthand but now avoided eye contact altogether.

Skie walked through the corridors like she was holding her breath.

She saw Conner laughing with Alyah. Her laugh was bright, musical, too loud for a Monday. Conner looked relaxed in a way that made Skie ache. Like she used to know that version of him, but now it belonged to someone else.

He didn't notice her pass.

Or maybe he did. And that hurt worse.

She sat through Chemistry without hearing a single word. Just kept replaying the memory of that hug — the way Conner held her like something precious… and then pulled away like something past.

"Skie?"

She looked up. Mrs. Frost was standing over her desk, brows knit.

"You okay?"

Skie nodded too quickly. "Yeah. Just tired."

But it wasn't tired.

It was hollow.

And it was spreading.

Fast.

Dylan felt like a ghost walking in his own timeline.

He sat through lunch with headphones in, not playing music — just blocking out the world.

Every time he saw Aaron, his stomach twisted. Like he wanted to escape it all.

And yet, he couldn't stop looking.

Aaron had this habit of talking with his hands when he was excited. Of leaning forward when he laughed. He had this crooked grin with a stare he gave when he focused too hard, it always made Dylan's thoughts pause mid-sentence.

But today, every glance made Dylan shrink.

Because Aaron was smiling like that. Not for him… at Ruby.

They sat across the cafeteria, legs brushing, laughing over something that looked like it had weight.

Dylan dropped his eyes to his tray. Pushed food around. Ate nothing.

Skie slid into the seat beside him, her presence quiet. She didn't say anything for a while. Didn't have to.

He broke first.

"Do you ever feel like the people you love the most are slowly choosing other versions of happiness?"

She looked up at him with the saddest expression as she replied, "All the time."

After School — The Rooftop

It used to be their spot. A secret place above the gym where they'd sit after hours, scream into the sky, and laugh too loud because no one could hear.

Now Skie sat alone, knees hugged to her chest, eyes on the horizon.

Conner found her there, hands in his pockets, unsure if he was allowed back into her quiet.

"I didn't think you'd come here again," he said.

"Me neither."

A pause.

He stepped closer, but didn't sit.

"I-I didn't mean to... hurt you," he said.

"I know."

"But I did."

Skie looked up at him, eyes tired. "We both did."

There was a stillness between them. The kind that carries the weight of things they won't ever say or couldn't.

It was all just cold air between them.

"I think I wanted us to be okay so badly," she whispered, "I forgot we're not-" she chuckled sadly, "…The same people anymore."

"We could try."

She shook her head. "Trying doesn't fix what's broke. It just delays the grieving."

He sat beside her, quietly this time.

"Do you regret us ever being friends?"

She turned her head slowly. "No. I don't regret us. Just the way we let the silence grow between us."

Conner closed his eyes. "I miss being your favorite person."

Skie wiped her cheek with her sleeve. "You still are." She told him with a smile, "But you just don't belong to me like we would want it anymore."

The both playfully hit each other with their elbows as the stared into twilight together. 

Later That Night — Dylan's Room

He lay in the dark, sketchbook open but untouched.

Every time he tried to draw, Aaron's smile appeared. His voice. His warmth.

And that damn kiss on the cheek — casual to Aaron, earth-shattering to him.

A knock on his door pulled him from the spiral.

It was Skie.

She climbed onto the bed, curling beside him like she used to when they were kids and the world felt too sharp.

"I think we're falling apart," she said softly.

He nodded. "I think we already did."

They stayed like that.

No words.

No fixes.

Just two friends holding the last thread of what used to be.

But one with a secret behind the other.

Across town, Conner lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

Alyah had sent a goodnight text.

He hadn't replied.

Not because he didn't care — but because it didn't feel right.

His heart still beat in rhythms shaped by Skie's laughter.

He missed Dylan too. His quiet loyalty. His annoying wisdom.

He missed being part of a trio that made so much sense.

Now? They were just puzzle pieces with bent edges, not quite fitting anymore.

He typed something.

CONNER: "Are we okay?"

He stared at the message.

Then deleted it.

And turned off the light.