Aiden wasn't angry. That was the problem. If he was angry, at least it would make sense. Instead, he was just frustrated. Frustrated with the argument. Frustrated with the awkwardness. Frustrated with himself. By Monday afternoon, he'd replayed the conversation in his head at least fifty times. Every version ended the same way. With him thinking of a better response five hours too late. His phone sat on his desk. Unlocked. Open to Mia's chat. And completely empty. Aiden typed a message. Then deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that too. No matter what he wrote, it sounded wrong. Too serious. Too casual. Too late. Eventually, he groaned and threw himself backward onto his bed. His phone immediately buzzed. For half a second, his heart jumped. Then he looked at the screen. Noah. Of course it was Noah.
Noah: Are you alive?
Aiden: Unfortunately.
Noah: Still fighting?
Aiden: We aren't fighting.
Noah: You haven't spoken properly in two days.
Aiden: ...
Noah: Exactly.
Aiden tossed the phone onto his pillow. Then picked it up again ten seconds later. Then tossed it again. His mother happened to walk past his room, stopped, and slowly backed up.
"Aiden?"
"What?"
"Why are you throwing your phone?"
"I wasn't throwing it."
His mom stared at him. Then at the phone. Then back at him.
"Hm."
That single "hm" felt far more judgmental than it should have.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're acting weird."
"I'm always weird."
"Not like this."
Aiden immediately became suspicious.
"What do you mean?"
His mother smiled.
"Nothing."
That was a lie.
A very obvious lie.
"Mom."
"What's her name?"
Aiden nearly dropped his phone.
"What?"
"The girl."
"There is no girl."
His mother laughed.
"There is definitely a girl."
Aiden groaned and buried his face in a pillow.
His mother looked far too pleased with herself.
"I'll figure it out eventually."
"Please don't."
"No promises."
Aiden was beginning to understand where Noah got his behavior from.
Later that evening, he found himself sitting outside on the porch watching the sunset. Normally, this was when he'd be texting Mia. They'd usually spend hours talking about random things. Teachers they didn't like. Movies they wanted to watch. Noah being Noah. Now there was nothing. Just silence. And he hated it. Every time his phone lit up, he looked at it. Every single time. Even though most of the notifications were completely useless. One was from Noah. Another was from a gaming group chat he never used. One was literally a weather alert. Yet every time, for a split second, he hoped it would be her.
His phone buzzed again. This time, his heart jumped before he could stop it. He grabbed it immediately. The message was from Mia.
Mia: Did we have chemistry homework?
Aiden stared at the screen. Then stared some more. Then immediately started overthinking. Was she actually asking about homework? Was this an excuse to talk? Was she still upset? Did she regret asking? Why was his heart beating so fast over a chemistry question? His phone buzzed again.
Mia: Aiden?
He quickly typed back.
Aiden: Yeah. Page 84.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. Then disappeared again. Aiden watched the screen like it held the secrets of the universe.
Mia: Thanks.
And that was it.
The conversation ended.
Aiden stared at the chat for another minute before locking his phone. Somehow, that tiny interaction made him feel better and worse at the same time. Better because she'd texted him. Worse because neither of them had said what they actually wanted to say. He spent the rest of the evening pretending to watch a movie while replaying that three-message conversation in his head.
The next morning, he arrived at school earlier than usual. Not because he wanted to. Okay. Maybe because he wanted to. Just a little. He was walking toward his locker when he noticed something on the floor beneath it. A folded piece of paper. Aiden frowned and picked it up. Then unfolded it. Inside was a terrible drawing. Absolutely terrible. Two stick figures stood side by side holding hands. One had messy hair that was clearly supposed to be him. The other had long hair that was obviously Mia. The drawing looked like it had been created in about six seconds. Aiden couldn't stop himself from smiling. Then he noticed the note written underneath.
"You looked less annoying when you weren't grumpy."
He stared at it for several seconds. Then laughed. Actually laughed. For the first time in days. Because there was only one person in the world who would draw something that bad. And there was only one person who would call him annoying while trying to cheer him up. A few moments later, Noah appeared. Naturally. Because peace was illegal.
"What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing."
"That's suspicious."
"It's really not."
Noah immediately grabbed the paper.
Before Aiden could stop him.
"Oh."
"Noah."
"Ohhhhh."
"Noah."
"She's trying to make up with you."
Aiden snatched the note back.
"Give me that."
Noah looked far too excited.
"Dude."
"What?"
"She literally drew stick figures."
"And?"
"That's basically a love letter."
"It absolutely isn't."
"It absolutely is."
Aiden rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. For the first time since the argument, things felt different. Not fixed. Not yet. But better. Like maybe the distance between them wasn't as big as it had felt over the weekend. Like maybe neither of them wanted to stay angry. As he carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket, one thought kept repeating in his head.
Maybe it was time to stop being stubborn.