Why did I tell him anything?
I knew it was all good to be true.... nobody listens to me.
I don't talk about my family.
Not like that.
But—
I did.
And he asked.
So I thought—
Maybe he wanted to know.
He doesn't care enough to listen to m- "Ivy."
"Yeah"
"You got quiet again," He said once he realized I wasn't saying anything anymore.
I didn't say anything.
"You were saying something about your family." He added.
I looked at him.
"You don't remember?"
He frowned slightly.
"I do."
"Then what did I say?"
Silence.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
My chest tightened.
"You said... your brother's loud," he replied.
That's all?
I nodded slowly.
"Yeah, and?"
He didn't answer.
Obviously, he didn't know he was not paying attention to me.
I looked down at my notebook.
"I thought you wanted to know," I said quietly.
"I do."
"That's not what it felt like."
He sighed.
"You're overthinking again."
That word again.
Overthinking.
"It's not overthinking if it actually happened," I said.
"and stop saying this word every time" I added.
He leaned back.
"I was listening."
"No," I said.
"You weren't."
Silence.
For a moment—
I thought he'd argue.
But he didn't.
And somehow—
That hurt more.
Because it felt like—
He didn't care enough to even pretend.
~after class~
I packed my bag quickly.
"Ivy."
I didn't look at him.
"Ivy."
"What?" I said, a little sharper than I meant to.
He stood up.
"You're upset."
"I'm not."
"You are."
I exhaled.
"You didn't even listen to me," I said quietly.
"And you keep saying I'm overthinking."
He didn't reply immediately.
Then—
"Okay."
That wasn't enough.
"Okay?" I repeated.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Just like that.
Simple.
But something about it felt... rushed.
Like he just wanted it to end.
"You know, I was trying to tell you something important, and you pretended to listen to everything, and now you think a simple sorry can fix everything?" I said furiously.
"Okay, maybe I was not paying attention, but don't act like you are my girlfriend, you're just a friend," he retorted.
My chest tightened again.
At least he admitted it.
But it still hurt.
I stopped talking and continued packing my bag.
And for a second—
It felt like he saw it.
"I'm listening now," he said softly.
That shouldn't have worked.
But it did.
A little.
"I don't talk about things like that," I said quietly.
"And when I do... it matters."
"I'm sorry," he said again.
And this time—
It didn't feel as empty.
There was a pause.
Too quiet.
Too close.
"Ivy..."
I looked at him.
And I didn't move away.
Not when he stepped closer.
Not when his hand brushed lightly against mine.
Not when everything suddenly felt—
too much.
Too real.
And then—
He kissed me.
Soft.
At first.
Like he was unsure.
Like he was asking.
But I didn't pull away.
I didn't stop him.
Because for a second—
Everything else disappeared.
The confusion.
The hurt.
The questions.
All of it.
Gone.
And all that was left—
was him.
Then he pulled back,
I was expecting something, anything but none of us said anything.
~later~
We didn't talk much after that.
Not like before.
Not like I expected.
At the bus stop—
He stood beside me.
Close.
But not close enough.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
But it felt different now.
Everything did.
My phone buzzed after I got on the bus.
Ethan:
Don't overthink it.
My fingers paused on the screen.
That's all?
After that?
I looked outside.
He wasn't even looking at me.
He apologized.
He kissed me.
And still—
Something felt off.
Because the same person who said—
"I'm listening now."
Was the one who texted—
"Don't overthink it."
~At night~
I didn't sleep properly.
Not because I didn't try.
But because every time I closed my eyes—
I felt it again.
The way he kissed me.
Soft.
Careful.
Like it meant something.