Ellie told herself she was done.
She told herself she wouldn't wait around for Astrid anymore. That she'd had enough—that she was moving on, and this time, she meant it.
But the truth was, no matter how many times she repeated those words like a mantra, they never felt real. They sat on her tongue like lies she was desperate to believe.
Tisha noticed it before Ellie could admit it to herself.
"You act like you're moving on, but your heart's still stuck on her," Tisha said quietly one afternoon as they sat on the old wooden bleachers behind the gym.
The sun was dipping into gold, casting long shadows on the basketball court. A few juniors were playing a lazy game, laughter echoing across the cracked concrete. But Ellie didn't hear them. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, her fingers picking at the frayed edge of her hoodie sleeve.
She clenched her jaw.
Tisha sighed and leaned back on her hands. "Maybe not. But pretending doesn't help either."
Ellie didn't reply right away. Her hands gripped the edge of the bleacher, fingers curling until her knuckles turned white.
She wished pretending did help. She wished she could wake up one day and feel nothing. She wanted to be numb, to not flinch every time Nicole's name was mentioned, to stop searching for her in crowded hallways.
But every time she saw her—every time their eyes met, even briefly—it was like someone tore the stitches open all over again.
And she was so damn tired of bleeding.
"I don't think I ever really got over it," Ellie admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Even when I tried to be okay... I think part of me never wanted to be."
Tisha didn't answer right away. She just looked at her best friend, her gaze softening. "Because holding on felt better than letting go?"
Ellie gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. At least when I was hurting, I knew it was real. Letting go… that feels like erasing everything."
They sat in silence, letting the wind speak for them. In the distance, someone scored a basket and shouted triumphantly, but it felt a world away.
"You ever think about texting her?" Tisha asked cautiously.
Ellie gave her a sideways look. "Every day."
"And?"
"I type it out. Sometimes it's just a 'hey.' Sometimes it's paragraphs. But I never send it."
"Why not?"
Ellie exhaled, closing her eyes. "Because I don't know what I want her to say back."
Tisha nodded slowly, absorbing that.
They both fell quiet again. The kind of silence that wasn't awkward, just… heavy.
"I still remember the day she left," Ellie murmured, eyes fixed on the sunset. "I didn't cry. Not in front of her. I smiled and told her to take care. But the second she turned the corner, it felt like something got ripped out of me."
Tisha glanced down at her lap. She hated seeing Ellie like this—so unguarded, so raw.
"Have you ever been in love with someone who stopped choosing you?" Ellie asked suddenly.
Tisha blinked. "Yeah," she said softly. "It's like drowning while they learn how to swim."
Ellie's throat tightened. That was exactly how it felt.
"She looked happy the last time I saw her," Ellie added, her voice trembling now. "Like… genuinely happy. And I hated that I noticed. Hated that a part of me wanted her to be miserable without me."
Tisha reached over and placed a hand on Ellie's, squeezing gently. "It's okay to feel that way."
"Is it?" Ellie laughed bitterly. "Because all it does is make me feel selfish."
Tisha tilted her head. "You're not selfish. You're human."
That word echoed in Ellie's head—human.
Human enough to love. Human enough to hurt. Human enough to break and still pretend to be fine.
"Do you think she still thinks about me?" Ellie asked, voice breaking at the end.
Tisha hesitated, then answered with honesty. "Maybe. But the better question is: do you want to keep living for that maybe?"
Ellie blinked, her eyes stinging. She didn't answer.
Instead, a memory tugged at her—one she had buried so deep she almost forgot it.
They were sitting on Nicole's rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, drinking soda and watching the stars. Nicole had been rambling about constellations, tracing invisible lines in the sky with her finger.
"See that one?" she'd said, pointing. "That one looks like you."
Ellie had laughed. "You think I look like a triangle?"
"No," Nicole had smiled, eyes soft. "It just… makes me feel something warm. Like you do."
That memory alone could still undo her.
"I'm sorry," Ellie whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm so tired, Tish. I'm tired of hoping for something that's never coming back."
Tisha pulled her into a side hug, resting her chin on top of Ellie's head. "You don't have to be okay today. Or tomorrow. But one day, you will be. I promise."
And Ellie wanted to believe that. She really did.
But that night, as she lay in bed with her phone on her chest and Nicole's contact open, she typed another message.
"Do you still think about me?"
She stared at it for a long time. Her thumb hovered over the send button.
She deleted it.
---
The days passed like a slow ache. School, friends, laughter that didn't reach her eyes. Ellie was there, but not really. She was good at performing now—at smiling through the emptiness, at nodding at jokes she barely registered.
Tisha would nudge her sometimes, checking in without words. A glance. A nudge. A shared snack. And that was enough.
But healing? That felt like fiction.
It wasn't until one rainy Thursday that something shifted.
Ellie was sitting in the library, curled up near the window, headphones in, sketching mindlessly in her notebook. She hadn't even noticed Nicole walk in until her presence wrapped around the room like static.
She looked up—and there she was.
Nicole.
Drenched from the rain, hair damp, hugging a notebook to her chest. She didn't see Ellie right away. Her eyes were scanning the shelves.
But when their eyes finally met…
It was like no time had passed. Like nothing had changed and yet everything had.
Nicole paused. Her expression unreadable.
Ellie's heart betrayed her instantly. It leapt, a little too desperate, a little too stupid.
Nicole gave her a small nod. Polite. Distant.
Ellie nodded back.
She wanted to say something. Anything. But what would she say?
Hi, I still dream about you. Hi, I can't fall in love with anyone else because you're still under my skin. Hi, I wish I hated you.
Instead, she looked down at her sketchbook.
And drew until her hands hurt.
---
Later that evening, Ellie sat in the dark of her room, the rain still tapping at the windows. She finally answered a message from Tisha.
Tisha:
> You okay?
Ellie:
> I saw her today.
Tisha:
> …Want to talk about it?
Ellie:
> I think I'm finally starting to let go.
Tisha:
> Yeah?
Ellie:
> It still hurts. But it's different now. It's quieter.
Tisha:
> That's what healing sounds like.
Ellie stared at the screen for a long time.
She wasn't magically fixed. She wasn't over it.
But maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to bleed forever.