Chapter Three: Lines We Pretend Not to See
Ethan didn't notice the change all at once.
If someone had asked him when things started to feel wrong, he wouldn't have been able to answer. There was no single moment he could point to, no sharp break where everything shifted. It was more like watching a familiar place slowly lose its shape—subtle enough that you didn't realize it was happening until you no longer recognized it.
At first, it was just a name.
Maya.
Lucas mentioned her casually, like she was nothing special.
"She transferred into my history class," he said one afternoon as they walked home. "Smart. Sarcastic. Kinda intense."
Ethan hummed in response, eyes on the pavement. "Sounds like you."
Lucas laughed. "Hey."
That should've been the end of it.
But it wasn't.
Maya appeared more often after that.
At lunch.
After class.
During group assignments Lucas suddenly volunteered for.
Ethan told himself he was imagining things. People made new friends all the time. Lucas had always been good at that. He attracted people without trying—his warmth, his openness, the way he made everyone feel like they mattered.
Ethan had admired that about him once.
Now it felt like something sharp pressing against his ribs.
The first time Maya sat with them at lunch, Ethan barely spoke.
Lucas did enough talking for all three of them, as usual. Maya fit in easily, matching his energy, laughing at his jokes like she'd known him for years instead of weeks.
Ethan watched them from the corner of his eye.
The way Lucas leaned toward her.
The way his smile lingered.
The way his attention stayed just a second longer than it used to.
"You're really quiet," Maya said suddenly, turning to Ethan.
He blinked. "What?"
She smiled politely. "Lucas says you're the observant one."
Lucas glanced at him. "Yeah. He notices everything."
Ethan felt something twist in his chest.
He looked away.
After that, silence became his shield.
He answered when spoken to. Nodded. Listened. He didn't insert himself into conversations anymore, didn't feel like he knew where he fit.
Lucas noticed.
"You okay?" Lucas asked one evening as they stood at the bus stop.
"I'm fine."
"That's not convincing."
Ethan exhaled slowly. "You don't have to worry about me all the time."
Lucas frowned. "I want to."
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Ethan didn't reply.
Things that had once been automatic became uncertain.
Lucas didn't always wait for him after school. Sometimes Ethan arrived at their usual spot only to find it empty. Other times, Lucas was already walking with someone else.
Ethan hated how much he noticed.
He hated how aware he became of every small absence.
When Lucas texted less, Ethan checked his phone more. When Lucas laughed with someone else, Ethan felt strangely… left behind.
He told himself it was normal.
Best friends drifted sometimes.
So why did it feel like losing ground?
The argument happened on a Thursday.
It was raining, the sky heavy and gray, the air thick with unsaid things.
Lucas had canceled their usual study session last minute.
Lucas: Sorry, something came up
Ethan: Okay
Lucas: You sure?
Ethan: Yeah
He wasn't.
When Lucas finally showed up later that evening—soaked, breathless, apologetic—Ethan's restraint cracked.
"You didn't even tell me why," Ethan said quietly.
Lucas froze. "I didn't think it mattered."
"That's the problem," Ethan replied, voice sharper than intended.
Lucas's brows pulled together. "What's wrong with you lately?"
Ethan flinched.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Silence stretched between them.
Lucas ran a hand through his wet hair. "If I did something, just tell me."
Ethan opened his mouth.
Closed it.
There was too much. None of it made sense.
"I just don't like feeling…" He trailed off.
"Feeling what?"
"Like I don't matter."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Lucas's expression softened immediately. "Ethan—"
"I know," Ethan said quickly. "That's stupid. Forget I said anything."
Lucas stepped closer. "That's not stupid."
They stood there, rain dripping off their clothes, the space between them charged with something neither could name.
"You matter to me," Lucas said quietly. "More than you think."
Ethan looked away.
That was the problem.
After that night, they became careful.
Too careful.
They laughed less freely. Chose their words more cautiously. Neither wanted to push too hard, afraid of breaking something fragile.
But the carefulness only made everything worse.
The school festival arrived like a test neither of them felt prepared for.
Lights strung overhead. Music blaring. People everywhere.
Lucas found Ethan near the edge of the crowd, hands stuffed into his pockets.
"There you are," Lucas said, relief clear in his voice.
"Yeah," Ethan replied.
They stood together, not touching, not moving away either.
"I thought you weren't coming," Lucas said.
Ethan shrugged. "Didn't feel like it."
Lucas hesitated. "You don't feel like a lot of things lately."
Ethan glanced at him. "And you do?"
Lucas opened his mouth—
"Lucas!"
Maya appeared, smiling brightly. "They're starting the games."
Lucas looked torn.
Ethan felt the familiar ache rise again.
"You should go," Ethan said, stepping back. "Don't let me stop you."
Lucas searched his face. "Are you sure?"
Ethan nodded.
Lucas left.
Ethan stayed.
And the distance felt unbearable.
That night, Ethan lay awake replaying everything.
The jealousy he didn't understand.
The fear he couldn't explain.
The way Lucas's absence felt like something essential had been taken away.
Friends didn't feel like this.
Friends didn't make your chest ache.
He turned onto his side, eyes burning, refusing to think any further.
Across town, Lucas stared at his phone, Ethan's name lighting up the screen.
He typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
I don't know what's happening, but I need you.
He didn't send it.
Not yet.
They were still best friends.
Still said each other's names like they belonged there.
Still clung to something neither was ready to question.
But the line between friendship and something else was no longer invisible.
It was there.