Clive messaged me almost immediately.

[What do you mean?]

A breakup, obviously.

I didn't bother explaining. I blocked every way he could contact me and left that 12-person group chat as well.

When I looked up again, I had just arrived outside the apartment complex we had rented off campus together.

Clive didn't come back that night. He was probably continuing whatever Danielle and he had been doing before I interrupted them.

Thinking that, I started packing.

While sorting through my things, I came across a Polaroid photo.

It was from high school. Back when I still had a crush on Clive, I had secretly taken it during a break. He was doing homework, and when he looked up, his gaze landed on me, gentle but distant.

Back then, my face had gone hot. Afraid he would notice my feelings, I had fled in a panic.

I held that Polaroid for a long time as the sky outside slowly darkened.

Then, I slipped the photo into the very bottom of my suitcase and zipped it shut.

Sitting on the floor, I looked around the small apartment we had lived in for over two years. My memories still ran wild on their own.

Clive and I didn't officially get together until the second semester of freshman year.

In high school, even though we had been at the same school for three years, we had barely spoken.

He was good-looking, came from a well-off family, and was a top student in the science track. He was great at sports and always stood out, surrounded by people.

Meanwhile, I was just an ordinary student in the liberal arts track. The bravest thing I ever did was pretend to pass by the back door of his classroom during breaks just to sneak a quick look at his side profile as he bent over his work.

We were never in the same world.

After graduation, we somehow ended up at the same university.

On move-in day, I got lost outside the gym. I was holding a heavy stack of documents and nearly ran into someone.

The papers were scattered all over the ground. I hurriedly crouched down to pick them up when I heard a voice above me.

"Julia?"

I looked up and saw Clive standing there against the light, wearing a plain white T-shirt. His features were clear and familiar.

He actually knew my name.

I froze, unable to say anything, while he had already crouched down to help me.

"Julia Watts from the liberal arts track, right?" he asked as he gathered the papers. "At the graduation ceremony, you gave the valedictorian speech. I remember."

My heart was pounding out of control. I could only nod.

Clive picked up most of the documents for me and asked which dorm building I was heading to. As we walked, he chatted casually about high school teachers and how new everything felt at college. His tone was easy and familiar.

When we reached the building, he handed the papers back to me and smiled.

"We're classmates now. Let's stay in touch."

I clutched my phone and watched him walk away, my palms slick with sweat.

From that day on, we really did start staying in touch.

At first, it was just greeting each other when we ran into one another on campus. Then, we started eating together at the dining hall. Later, he would ask me to study together at the library.

Clive wasn’t much of a studier. Half the time, he would end up falling asleep with his head on the table, his soft hair falling over his forehead.

I would read my book while secretly watching him, my chest filled with a sour-sweet feeling.

On New Year's Eve, he asked me to watch fireworks by the river with him.

The crowd was packed tight, and we got separated.

I was starting to panic when bright stage lights suddenly flashed ahead. Everyone's attention was drawn to a band performing nearby.

And there, standing at the center as the lead singer, was Clive. He looked straight at me, smiling as he sang, his gaze serious and focused.

When the fireworks exploded across the night sky, he shouted, "Julia, I've fallen for you since I met you! Will you be my girlfriend?"

I stared into his shining eyes, my heart thudding in my chest, and forced myself to shout back, "Yes!"

The early days were sweet.

He would wake up early and cross half the campus just to bring me breakfast.

When I caught a cold, he would clumsily make warming tea for me.

He remembered movies I casually mentioned wanting to see and would buy tickets in advance to surprise me.

He made me believe I hadn't loved the wrong person.

But then, Danielle appeared about half a year after we started dating.

She was Clive's childhood friend. Her family lived right across the hall from his, and they had grown up together.

The first time I met Danielle, I finally understood what people meant by a perfect match.

Danielle was wearing a pale yellow sundress. She rushed over with a bright smile, patting Clive on the shoulder.

"Clive!"

Only then did she notice me. Her gaze swept over my face once before she smiled and said, "So this is your girlfriend? She looks pretty quiet. And that outfit, why does it look so…"

She let out a small laugh, the mockery in her eyes impossible to miss.

I lowered my head and rubbed the hem of my dress between my fingers, wrinkling the fabric. My face burned hot with embarrassment.

The dress had cost about 50 bucks, but compared to the designer brands she was wearing, it did look cheap.

Clive casually pulled out a chair for Danielle and asked why she had suddenly shown up. She said she was in a bad mood and had gotten into a fight with her roommate.

That afternoon, Clive and I had originally planned to go see an art exhibit together.

But after listening to Danielle complain for a bit, he turned to me and said, "Let's see the exhibit another time. I'll walk around with Danielle first so she can clear her head."

I froze for a second, then nodded.

Danielle immediately hooked her arm through his and stuck out her tongue at me apologetically. "Sorry. Mind lending me your boyfriend for a little while?"

No one noticed how humiliated I felt. Not even Clive.

That was only the first time.

After that, it kept happening.

When Danielle got dumped, she called Clive crying, and he took a cab to her college in the middle of the night to comfort her.

When Danielle craved desserts from a famous old bakery on the west side of town, Clive skipped class to stand in line with her.

On Danielle's birthday, Clive organized a whole group of friends to celebrate with her, running around nonstop.

But he completely forgot that it was also our first anniversary.

Every time I got upset, Clive always said the same things.

"She's been like this since we were kids. She's basically my little sister. Don't overthink it.

"We've known each other for so many years. Can't you be a little more understanding?

"When did you become so nitpicky?"

Arguments, cold wars, making up, over and over again.

Every time a fight dragged on, I would end up seeing the irritation and exhaustion on his face and be the first to reach for his hand.

He would pull me into a hug and say, "Alright, alright. You're the only one I love."

And then, everything would go back to how it was.

Danielle would still look for him whenever she wanted, and he never seemed to learn how to say no. He even thought I was making a big deal out of nothing whenever I told him how I felt.

When I saw him and Danielle tangled together in a hotel room with my own eyes tonight, every excuse I had made for myself shattered.

Since he found me annoying, I would just leave.