On graduation-photo day, the photographer told the couples to stand closer together.

Instead, Bill Henson pressed a hand to my shoulder and steered me to the edge of the group, moving Phyllis Swanson into the spot beside him.

"Phyllis and I are the top humanities and top science students. It makes sense for us to stand together."

It wasn't the first time he'd pushed me aside.

When I brought him questions I'd gotten wrong, he said my basics were weak and I was wasting his time.

But Phyllis was shaky at math, and for her he'd stay up till dawn, breaking every problem down into the simplest possible steps.

When I wanted to study with him at the library, he frowned and said I'd throw off his review.

Yet when Phyllis slipped one rank in the standings, he skipped class to walk with her on the beach.

The photographer teased with a grin: "You two aren't a couple, are you? You look right together, and your grades match too."

Bill looked over at Phyllis, his smile soft and proud. "We've always been the perfect pair."

Phyllis flushed and lowered her head, and the classmates around us started whooping.

I stood outside the crowd, still gripping the number card for the photo I'd wanted to take with him.

The spot beside him was never meant for me.

And now, I didn't want it either.

…

I looked down at the card in my hand, and it suddenly struck me as absurd.

For this one photo, I'd spent a whole night choosing a dress, and even tied my hair up over and over to get it right.

And in the end, I didn't even have the right to stand next to him.

I turned, walked to the trash can, and dropped the card in.

In the homeroom teacher's office, he handed me my scores and patted my shoulder with a smile.

"You did well. Go home and think carefully about your college applications."

He thought for a moment, then said:

"I hear you're planning to apply to schools in New York with Bill? The cutoffs in New York are very high. With your scores, going to New York… isn't really worth it. My advice is to put your own future first."

I clutched the score sheet, thanked him,

and the moment I stepped out of the office, I ran straight into Bill and Phyllis.

They both froze when they saw me.

Then Phyllis hurried over to me, her smile warm and easy. "So this is where you were."

Smiling, she held out the drink in her hand.

"We bought drinks. Bill got one for you too."

I looked down at it.

They were both holding the same jasmine milk tea, the cups stickered as a couples' combo.

And what she was handing me was the mango iced tea that came free with the set.

I'm allergic to mango. Bill knows that.

I twitched my mouth into something like a smile, took the mango iced tea, turned, and dropped it in the trash can beside us.

Phyllis's face stiffened, her eyes reddening, and she looked to Bill, at a loss.

Bill's brow furrowed at once. "Cordelia Fox, what are you angry about now?"

His tone dropped a notch.

"Because I moved you aside just now and let Phyllis stand next to me? That was me. Why are you taking it out on her?"

"I already explained it to you! Phyllis is the top humanities student and I'm the top science student. The two of us standing together is exactly what the school wants for its promotional shots."

"Besides, didn't I say we'd take a separate photo later?"

I looked at him, and suddenly I didn't even have the strength to argue.

He said we'd take a photo.

But once the group shots were done, he never thought of me.

In our classmates' posts, he and Phyllis had taken more than a dozen photos just the two of them.

Everyone whooped for a good ten minutes while he held Phyllis tight and never let go.

Afterward he went with her to the back alley to buy drinks, and then here, to the office, to pick up his scores.

For a solid hour, he hadn't sent me a single message. He'd long since forgotten I existed.

Everything seemed to change the moment Phyllis transferred in.

Bill was the top science student, she was first in humanities, and after that their names were always spoken in the same breath.

I gave it everything I had and could barely keep pace behind the two of them. Even a problem they tossed around in passing took me forever to follow.

There was a time when Bill didn't mind that I wasn't as sharp as he was.

But the more he and Phyllis talked, the less patience he had left when he turned back to me. All that remained was an irritation he couldn't quite hide.

The truth is, I already knew back then. Whatever was between Bill and me had, somehow, reached its end.

When I didn't say anything, Bill seemed to finally run out of patience.

"We'll take the photo now. That work for you?"

He didn't wait for my answer. He'd already snatched my phone and handed it off to Phyllis.

Phyllis blinked, but took it anyway.

Bill stepped up next to me, though his shoulder didn't come an inch closer.

Before I could even lift my head, he'd already taken the phone back and pressed it into my palm.

"There. No more acting up now."

"I'm going with Phyllis to pick up her transcript. Wait here. We'll all head home together after."

With that, he turned and walked into the office, Phyllis's hand in his.

I stood there and opened the album.

The photo was a blur. It had caught nothing but the gray-white floor of the hallway and the edge of his sleeve as he turned to leave me.

I stared at it for a long time. Then I let out a soft laugh.

I tapped delete, then blocked Bill.

Transcript in hand, I turned and left the school.

I was never going to wait for him again.

A few classmates I usually hung out with pinged the group chat, saying we'd graduated and had to grab a farewell dinner together.

Halfway through the meal, the girl beside me suddenly burst out laughing and nearly spit out her food.

"Holy crap, Phyllis went official?"

She flipped her phone around onto the table.

On the screen was the post Phyllis had just put up.

Two movie tickets, with only one word for a caption.

Official.

In the corner of the photo, a boy's wrist showed at the edge.

There was a black hair tie around it.

I stared at that hair tie, and my eyes stung all at once.

It was the little promise hair tie I'd once nagged Bill into buying.

I'd said a relationship needed a little ceremony to it. He'd called it childish and refused to wear it, not even once.

But lately he'd suddenly started wearing it.

I'd been quietly happy about it, thinking he was just too stubborn to admit he liked it.

Now it looked like a joke.

The others were already crowding around the phone, guessing away.

"Who's this guy? He's not from our school, is he?"

"Wasn't she always close with Bill? I honestly thought those two had been a thing for ages."

I said it calmly.

"It's Bill."

They looked up at me, hungry for gossip, then all froze.

"Cordelia, why are your eyes so red?"

I lowered my head and picked up a piece of greens with my chopsticks.

"The dinner's too spicy."

The words had barely left my mouth when the restaurant door pushed open.

Bill and Phyllis walked in, one after the other.

Her bag was slung over his shoulder, her jacket in his hand.

A server came up to ask what they'd like.

Phyllis glanced at the menu and smiled. "The couples' combo looks a little cheaper. Let's get the couples' combo."

A few classmates nearby immediately started whooping.

"Bill, we knew there was something going on with you two!"

Bill saw me and paused. Then he smoothed it over just as fast and walked over to me as if nothing had happened.

"What a coincidence. Let's eat together."

He was so unbothered about it.

So unbothered that every humiliating thing between us seemed to be nothing but me flattering myself.

Someone at the table couldn't help asking him.

"You're really with Phyllis now?"

Bill glanced at Phyllis's post and let out a low laugh.

"That? She's just announcing a movie."

He raised his eyes over the group, and let them land on me last.

"Don't tell me you actually believed it?"

Phyllis lowered her head, cheeks red, and offered no correction.

The table only got louder.

But I sat there staring at the faint gleam of lip gloss at the corner of his mouth, lost somewhere far away.

Bill sat down beside me, his hand reaching under the table the way it always used to, to give my fingers a little squeeze.

I moved out of the way.

His hand stopped in midair, and his face cooled.

He drew it back and slid straight over to sit next to Phyllis.

Their arms pressed together, and Phyllis flushed.

The whole meal, every topic circled around him and Phyllis.

Someone asked if they'd applied to the same college.

Someone else teased them, the top science student and the top humanities student joining forces, imagining how terrifyingly smart their future kids would be.

I sat off to the side, like a stranger squeezed in at a shared table.

I wanted to leave, but Bill sat on the outside, blocking my seat exactly.

All I could do was look down at the food in my bowl while my stomach twisted with pain, wave after wave.

Phyllis bent her head to eat, and her long hair slid down against her cheek.

Without thinking, Bill slipped the black hair tie off his wrist and gathered her hair up for her.

His hands moved with the ease of someone who'd done it many times.

I watched his hands and suddenly remembered how long I'd once begged him.

Back then he'd said, "Cordelia, don't bother me with this little-girl stuff."

Phyllis picked up the cold soda beside her, and just as she went to open it, Bill frowned and took it from her.

"You're on your period. You can't drink cold things."

Everyone froze for a second, then broke into a storm of teasing.

"Don't tell me you two are…"

Phyllis went red and gave Bill a light slap.

Bill only smiled, then glanced down at me, as if he'd finally remembered I was still here.

"Your face looks flushed. Was the food too spicy?"

He held that bottle of cold soda out in front of me.

"Drink something cold."

I looked at the soda still misting with cold, and my mouth twisted.

For a moment I honestly didn't know whether I wanted to cry or laugh.

Today was also the first day of my period.

I'd had bad cramps since I was little. I couldn't touch anything cold.

Bill used to remember that.

He'd kept a timed reminder in his phone calendar and never once missed it.

But this time, he'd forgotten.

I didn't take it.

Bill's brows drew together again.

"Cordelia, how long are you going to keep being difficult?"

I shook my head, forced down the sob and the tears rising in my throat, stood up, and said,

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going home first."

Phyllis's face went awkward all at once.

She bit her lip gently and said, softly, "Is it because of me? Is Cory upset?"

Bill's face went cold, and he set the bottle of cold soda back on the table.

"Ignore her."

"So dramatic."

"It's nothing, and she has to make a scene like this."

The others at the table went quiet, staring at the three of us, baffled.

I covered my eyes, but the tears fell through my fingers anyway.

I grabbed my bag, shoved back my chair, turned, and rushed out of the restaurant.

I cried the whole way home, my eyes aching and swollen, my throat gone hoarse.

Mom was sitting in the living room, and when she saw me come in, she asked,