The Friday energy was a relief, a loud, sprawling celebration of the impending weekend.
But for Sophie, sitting on a weathered wooden bench under the sprawling oak tree, the energy felt like a heavy weight.
She had her notebook open on her lap, but she hadn't written a word in twenty minutes. Her eyes were fixed on a point forty yards away, where the stone fountain stood. Or more specifically, where Ethan Carter stood.
Ethan wasn't alone. He was surrounded.
He was leaning against the stone basin of the fountain, his posture relaxed, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. A group of juniors, three boys from the debate team and two girls from the drama club were gathered around him like he was a campfire.
One of the girls, a tall redhead named Chloe who always seemed to smell like expensive vanilla, said something that made the whole group erupt. Ethan didn't just smile; he threw his head back and laughed. It was a genuine, open sound that Sophie could hear even from across the courtyard.
3. He has a 'social' laugh, Sophie noted internally, but the thought didn't bring its usual warmth. Instead, it felt like a sharp, cold needle pricking at her heart.
"You're doing that thing again," Lila said, her voice cutting through the noise. She was casually peeling an orange, the citrus scent sharp in the air. "The 'Log Cabin' look. You're staring so hard I'm surprised his jacket hasn't caught fire yet."
Sophie pulled her gaze away, staring intensely at her sandwich as if it held the secrets to the universe. "I'm not staring. I'm... analyzing the social architecture of the courtyard. It's for the project. Urban sociology, remember?"
"Right. And Chloe's ponytail is a very important landmark in that sociology, I'm sure," Lila teased, popping a slice of orange into her mouth. "Admit it, Soph. You're officially in the Green-Eyed Monster phase."
"I'm not jealous!" Sophie protested, her voice jumping an octave. "Jealousy implies that I have some kind of claim on him. I don't. I just... I'm noticing. I'm noticing that he's very... easy. With everyone."
She looked back. Ethan was now listening to Chloe, his head tilted, that familiar, patient expression on his face. The same expression he gave Sophie when she stumbled over her words in the library.
The realization hit her like a bucket of ice water: I'm not special. He's just a nice person. He treats everyone with that same quiet kindness. I'm just one of a dozen people he's nice to.
The ache in her chest deepened. It wasn't the "flutter" she was used to. It was a slow, heavy throb, the realization that her "Moments" with him might just be "Tuesday" to him.
"That's the sting, isn't it?" Lila asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She had stopped teasing, seeing the genuine slump in Sophie's shoulders. "Seeing that the 'Magic' he has isn't a secret he only shares with you. It's just who he is."
"It makes me feel... small," Sophie admitted, her fingers picking at the crust of her bread. "When we're in the library, or when we were hanging the lights... I felt like we were in this little bubble. But looking at him now... the bubble is gone. He's just Ethan Carter, the guy everyone likes. And I'm just Sophie, the girl who dropped her pens."
"You're not 'just' Sophie," Lila said firmly, nudging her shoulder. "And he's not just 'everyone's guy.' You see the things they don't see. You noticed the scar on his thumb. You noticed his thinking rhythm. Chloe over there? She's just laughing at his jokes. You're actually reading him."
Sophie wanted to believe her, but at that moment, Ethan turned. His eyes scanned the courtyard, skipping over the groups of freshmen and the clusters of athletes, until they landed on the bench under the oak tree.
His hand went up, a casual, two-finger wave. A small, private smile touched his lips, separate from the big laugh he'd just shared with the group.
Sophie's heart did a triple-flip. She waved back, her hand feeling like a lead weight, her brain immediately entering a spiraling panic. Was that a pity wave? Did he see me staring? Is Chloe looking at me now? Oh god, I'm the girl on the bench. I'm the 'bench girl'.
Ethan gave a small nod and turned back to his conversation, but the energy of the group seemed different to Sophie now. She felt like an outsider looking into a room she wasn't invited to.
"See?" Lila whispered. "He saw you. Out of everyone here, he looked for you."
"Or he just saw a girl staring at him and felt obligated to acknowledge the creep," Sophie countered, though the tiny spark of the wave was already fighting back the cold ache in her chest.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the ebb and flow of the students. Sophie realized that this was the "Reality Phase" of a crush. The fantasy was easy, the fantasy was just her and him in a quiet room. The reality was loud. The reality involved other people, other girls, and the terrifying possibility that she was just one page in a very long book he was writing.
"It's a perspective shift," Lila said, echoing Sophie's internal thoughts. "You're realizing he's a whole person. Not just a character in your head. It's scary because a whole person has choices. They have a life. They have... Chloe."
Sophie groaned. "Don't say her name. It makes it real."
"But that's the growth part, Soph," Lila said, standing up as the five-minute bell rang. "If you want something real, you have to deal with the real version of him. Not the 'Perfect Project Partner' version. The 'Ethan-who-laughs-at-everyone's-jokes' version."
As they walked toward the lockers, Sophie felt a strange sense of clarity emerging from the mess of her emotions. She still felt the pang of jealousy, the "Green-Eyed Monster" was still tucked away in a corner of her heart but she also felt a new kind of respect.
She liked that he was kind to everyone. She liked that he didn't have "cliques" or "groups" and that he could talk to the drama kids and the athletes with the same ease. It made her like him more, even if it made her feel more invisible.
She reached her locker and leaned her head against the cool metal.
"You okay?" Lila asked, pausing before heading to her own hall.
"I'm... adjusting," Sophie said, a small, tired smile on her face. "I think I'm realizing that loving the 'idea' of someone is easy. Liking the 'reality' of someone is a lot more work."
"Welcome to the big leagues, kid," Lila grinned, giving her a quick thumbs-up.
That evening, Sophie didn't write a "Level 3" observation in her notebook. Instead, she wrote a question.
How do I become someone who doesn't just watch him from a bench? How do I become part of the 'Social Architecture' instead of just the 'Observer'?
She thought about the wave, the small, private smile he had sent her way. It hadn't been a "group" smile. It had been directed at her. Maybe Lila was right. Maybe Chloe saw the "Sun," but Sophie was the only one who saw the "Stars."
It was a cheesy thought, but as she closed her notebook and watched the Friday night lights flicker on in the distance, it was enough to keep the ache at bay.
Crushes were messy. They were jealous and confusing and full of "Chloe" obstacles. But as Sophie drifted off to sleep, she realized she wouldn't trade the "Bench Girl" feeling for anything. Because even from the bench, the view was incredible.
And tomorrow was a new day to find a way off the bench and into the light.