Chapter 1: The Breakup Before the Test

On the eve of the SATs, the transfer student Caleb had fallen for was mad at him again.

The air was thick with that anxious, jittery energy only a big test can bring. Lockers slammed shut up and down the hallway, but all I could focus on was the tense silence between us. Even with the vending machines humming and the principal’s voice echoing on the loudspeaker, her glare drowned out the vending machines and even the principal’s announcements—nobody could ignore it.

All because I said, "I don't want to see you."

The words tasted sour as soon as they left my mouth. They echoed in my head, sharp with regret, but my stubborn pride kept my face unreadable. When you’re seventeen, sometimes you convince yourself you’re doing the right thing, even if it tears you apart inside.

He told me to switch schools and leave.

"Maple Heights High isn’t bad either. Once she cools off, I’ll let you come back. Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Lillian."

His voice was low, careful—almost cold, like he’d already made up his mind to lose me for a while. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and that told me he wasn’t as detached as he wanted to be. My stomach twisted with panic—transferring meant starting over, again. I remembered how, in third grade, I’d eaten lunch alone for a month after my hearing aid squealed in class and the other kids stared. What if it happened again? What if no one even tried to help me fit in? My hands shook as I nodded, packed my stuff, and tried to steady my breathing.

His best friend tried to talk him out of it:

"Did you forget Lillian has a hearing impairment? If you send her off to another school alone, aren’t you worried she’ll get picked on? You two grew up together, and you used to care about her so much. Are you really okay with just pushing her away?"

The hallway smelled like gym socks and old textbooks. Caleb’s friend’s voice was tight with real concern, the kind only someone who’s watched you grow up can muster. For a second, I let myself hope Caleb might change his mind.

Caleb raised his eyebrows and replied:

"That was back in the day, man. People move on. Sometimes someone new just... takes over. Besides, it’s only three months. I’ll let her come back."

His tone sounded casual, but I saw the way his jaw clenched. That was Caleb’s signature move: build a wall, pretend nothing hurts. I hugged my books tighter, fighting the tears burning in my eyes.

Three months later, when Caleb finally called to say I could return, the wild, carefree boy sitting beside me leaned close to my hearing aid and laughed softly:

"Babe, you gotta close your eyes when you kiss. And you can’t answer calls from random guys."

His breath was warm against my ear, playful but gentle, and for a second, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Except everything had.