The lavender sequins of Aria's dress felt heavy, like a thousand tiny scales of armor she had donned for a battle she didn't know she was walking into. She had spent hours adjusting the pearl-studded belt, pushing her tortoise-shell glasses up the bridge of her nose, and braiding her light brown hair to fall perfectly over one shoulder. Today was supposed to be the day. The day Ben finally saw her as more than just the girl from next door.
But as she stepped into the brightly lit, modern expanse of Ben's living room, the breath was violently knocked from her lungs.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow against the emerald green curtains. But Aria didn't notice the architecture. Her wide eyes were locked dead-center on the teal sofa.
There was Ben, his fingers tangled in long waterfalls of blonde hair. He was leaning over a girl, his lips pressed frantically against hers in a passionate, breathless rhythm. The girl—dressed in a sheer purple top and a glittering silver sequin mini-skirt—had her hands woven into the collar of Ben's grey v-neck, pulling him closer.
A cold rush of adrenaline flooded Aria's veins. Her hands flew upward, fingers intertwining instinctively in front of her chest as if trying to physically hold her shattering heart together.
"Ben?"
The word slipped from her trembling lips, barely louder than a whisper, yet it cut through the quiet room like a gunshot.
The embrace broke. Ben jumped back, his eyes blowing wide as they landed on the girl standing in his living room.
"Aria!" he gasped.
For a fleeting second, the air was thick with the suffocating tension of a secret unearthed. Aria's expression melted from sheer, paralyzed shock into a profound, hollow sadness. Her clasped hands gripped tighter, her knuckles turning white.
But the guilt on Ben's face vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He cleared his throat, sinking back into the cushions of the teal sofa. A nervous, awkward laugh bubbled from his throat as he ran a hand through his perfectly styled brown hair.
"Uh, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone shifting to mild annoyance. "What the hell?"
Before Aria could force her paralyzed vocal cords to work, the blonde girl moved. With the lazy, confident grace of a predator, she rose from the sofa. Delicate butterfly clips caught the light in her hair as she sauntered toward Aria, Ben trailing obediently behind her like a shadow.
The girl stopped a few feet away, her eyes raking over Aria's lavender dress. A condescending smile curled her lips, her purple eyeshadow making her sharp gaze look even more piercing. She pointed a manicured finger at Aria's chest.
"Aria, wait," the girl drawled, her voice dripping in faux-sweetness. "You're that girl that's been trailing after Ben since what, middle school?"
Aria flinched. She looked down at the expensive hardwood floor, then slowly brought her eyes back up to meet the stranger's. *"Trailing?"* The word tasted like ash in her mouth.
"So, she's just a friend," Ben interjected smoothly, stepping up beside the blonde. He didn't even look at Aria as he said it. "Our families know each other. Um, I was actually just about to text you." He wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist, pulling her flush against his side. "Let me introduce my new girlfriend."
The blonde beamed, leaning into his touch.
Aria felt the floor drop out from beneath her. The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale and trembling. *"Girlfriend,"* she whispered to the empty space between them.
"Yeah!" Ben confirmed, his voice sickeningly enthusiastic. "Kylie said yes, so we're official now. We're throwing a joint party next weekend. You should come."
"Yes," Kylie chimed in, her unwavering smile resembling a shark smelling blood in the water.
Aria's gaze dropped to her own lavender heels, then lifted to Ben's oblivious face, then dropped again. The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on her shoulders.
"It would be so cute," Kylie continued, stepping closer, her perfume suffocatingly sweet. "You'd be like, our little mascot! Nerd chic is *in* this year, right? Because that dress is such a... *choice*." Kylie's eyes flicked up and down the lavender sequins. "It's even hypnotizing if you spin fast enough."
The words were jagged blades. Aria brought a trembling hand to her face, shielding her eyes as the first sting of tears threatened to spill. She felt entirely exposed, a clown standing in the middle of an art gallery.
"Um, Kylie made invitations, so..." Ben's voice broke through the haze. He held out a thick, pale pink cardstock. A slight, almost cruel smirk played on his lips. "You'd better come."
Aria lowered her hand. Moving like a wind-up doll, she reached out and took the elegant card. The camera of her mind hyper-focused on her own trembling fingers against the pink paper. The elegant gold foil script glared back at her: *You're invited to celebrate Kylie Weston's Birthday.*
She stared at the event details until the letters began to blur. Drawing in a sharp, ragged breath, she forced her head up. She stretched her lips into a smile so strained it physically hurt her cheeks.
"Wouldn't miss it," she choked out.
"Ah, perfect," Kylie purred.
Ben's satisfied grin only deepened the cavern opening up in Aria's chest. But Kylie wasn't finished. Leaning in close enough that Aria could feel the warmth of her breath, Kylie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial, mocking whisper.
"Um, just a little piece of advice. Maybe consider wearing something less... *desperate*. Yeah?"
The sarcasm dripped from the blonde's tongue like venom. Aria stood completely speechless, the moisture finally pooling over her lower lash line. She couldn't let them see her break. Not here. Not over him.
Without another word, Aria turned on her heel. The lavender sequins of her dress shimmered violently as she practically fled the living room, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor fading into the background. Behind her, the room blurred into insignificance.
She pushed blindly through the house, eventually bursting through the heavy glass-paneled doors that led to the backyard estate.
The air outside was thick and damp. An overcast sky hung low over the lush, manicured green garden, offering a soft, diffused light that felt far too peaceful for the storm raging inside her. From some hidden outdoor speaker, a strange, upbeat yet deeply melancholic pop song drifted through the air.
Through the blur of her tears, she saw him.
Ben. He had somehow already slipped outside through the patio doors, completely unfazed by the destruction of her universe. He was shirtless now, a faded plaid shirt tied casually around the waist of his blue jeans, his muscular back flexing as he stood by the hedges, casually spraying a hose over the vibrant greenery. The sound of hissing water mingled with the music.
He was watering the plants. He had broken her heart, handed her an invitation to his new life, and walked outside to do yard work. He didn't care. He truly, genuinely didn't care.
Aria stood frozen near the glass-paneled building, her fingers crushing the edges of the pink invitation. Her face contorted, the dam finally breaking. Silent sobs wracked her small frame. She swiped frantically at her cheeks, smudging her makeup beneath the frames of her tortoise-shell glasses.
Catching movement in her periphery, she turned and saw her own reflection in the large, tinted glass window of the patio.
She looked a mess. A desperate, trailing mascot in a hypnotizing dress.
Aria pressed her lips together, her chest heaving as she stared at her broken reflection. She forced the corners of her mouth up.
"Smile, Aria," she whispered to the glass, her voice cracking into a whimper. "Don't cry. Not here."
But the smile wouldn't hold. Her face crumpled again, the agony too heavy to carry. Clasping the crushed pink invitation to her chest, she turned away from her reflection, away from the glass, and away from the boy watering plants in the garden.
She walked off into the gray afternoon, the shimmering lavender of her dress the only bright thing left in her world.