Between Us

☆ part thirty five ☆

Lunch started out as a relatively normal affair. Sophie and I arrived at our usual table in the cafeteria, where Liam and Indi were already mid-debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza. Oakley, as usual, was keeping everyone entertained with his relentless sarcasm and occasional bad jokes about the quality of the cafeteria food. Sophie was tucked beside me, our shoulders touching as she absently picked at her food, and I felt a comforting warmth in the way her presence just fit next to mine.

But the normalcy shattered the moment I spotted Kitty walking toward us. At first, I didn't think much of it. Kitty had a flair for dramatic entrances, and her casual strut toward our table was par for the course. But it wasn't Kitty alone. She had someone walking with her—a tall, blonde figure I recognized all too well before they even reached the table. Chloe. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, catching the light in the most aggravatingly and obnoxiously perfect way. Her big brown eyes scanned the room with ease, the kind of confident gaze that used to make me fall over myself just to keep up with her. She looked completely at ease, and I could tell by the slight upward tilt of her lips that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Sophie noticed my reaction before I even said anything. I felt her tense beside me, her eyes darting to Chloe and then back to me. I wanted to tell her it was nothing, that Chloe showing up here didn't matter. But I couldn't find the words before Kitty reached the table, throwing herself down into her usual seat. "Hey, losers," Kitty greeted with her usual grin, her gaze sweeping over everyone like a queen surveying her court.

Oakley smirked. "Took you long enough. What, did you get lost?"

Kitty rolled her eyes. "No, I had to pick up a friend. Hope you don't mind." She gestured over her shoulder, and Chloe stepped forward, her smile soft and disarming.

"Hey," she said lightly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Liam nodded in polite acknowledgment. "Hey."

Kitty, as usual, kept talking. "She's new here. I told her she could sit with us if it's not too much of a fuss."

Oakley shrugged. "Sure. More the merrier, I guess."

Sophie didn't say a word. I didn't have to look at her to know she was uncomfortable. Her posture had stiffened, and her hand, which had been resting casually on her lap, curled into a tight fist. I reached under the table, my hand finding her thigh. I gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure her. Her eyes flicked to mine briefly, and while she didn't fully relax, I saw her shoulders loosen just a fraction.

Chloe took a seat beside Kitty, her movements graceful as always. The group fell into polite small talk, most of it directed at Chloe. Everyone seemed curious about her—where she came from, why she transferred here, what she thought of the school so far. Chloe answered every question with that same easy charm she'd always had, her voice soft but confident. I hated how easy it was to remember why I'd fallen for her once. But then Kitty, true to form, turned the conversation into something far more dangerous. She leaned forward, her grin sly. "So, Chloe," she started, her tone sweet and sharp all at once, "did you really date Lark?" The air went still.

Chloe smiled, her gaze sliding to me. "Yeah," she said casually, as though this wasn't the last thing I wanted Sophie to hear right now. "We did date. I really fumbled letting her go, though." Her words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate. Sophie didn't move. She didn't say anything. But I felt her tense all over again, and I knew that no amount of reassurance under the table was going to erase what Chloe had just said. I squeezed her thigh again, harder this time, silently willing her to look at me. To see that it didn't matter what Chloe said. That I was here for her, only her.

The silence dragged on, awkward and heavy, until Oakley jumped in with a nervous laugh. "Man, you're making me feel bad about my own love life," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe I should get in line to fumble with Lark too." The table burst into laughter, and for a moment, the tension eased. Chloe chuckled along with everyone else, her perfect smile never faltering. But Sophie stayed quiet. She didn't move away from me, but I could feel the storm brewing beneath her surface.

The rest of lunch was a blur. Chloe kept talking, charming the group with her stories and quick wit. Kitty hung on her every word, clearly thrilled to have her new friend fitting in so well. But I barely registered any of it. My focus stayed on Sophie, on the way she sat stiffly beside me, her hand now resting limply on the table. When the bell rang, I stood up quickly, grabbing my bag and Sophie's hand in one smooth motion. Chloe was still talking, her voice floating in the background, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get Sophie out of there, away from the reminder of what Chloe used to mean to me. The moment the cafeteria door swung shut behind us, I tugged Sophie's hand, guiding her toward the nearest bathrooms. She followed, though her reluctance was written all over her tense shoulders and the way she avoided looking directly at me. My stomach twisted. I hated seeing her like this. 

When we stepped inside, I pushed the door gently to check if anyone else was in there. It was empty, thank God. I leaned against the door, letting it click shut before turning back to Sophie. She was leaning against the sink, arms crossed tightly over her chest like a shield. Her eyes flickered to me briefly before darting away, her lips pressed into a thin line. I stepped closer, reaching out for her hands, uncrossing her arms so I could hold them in mine. Her fingers were cold, and I hated the idea that I might be the reason for the chill. "Sophie," I said softly, catching her eyes with mine. "Talk to me. I can tell something's bothering you."

"I'm fine," she said quickly, her voice higher-pitched than usual, the telltale sign of a lie.

I tilted my head, studying her, and then gently brought my hands to her face. My thumbs stroked her cheeks as I held her, my touch light but firm enough to keep her from pulling away. "No, you're not. Something's wrong. Just tell me, baby. Please." Her eyes closed at the nickname, and she let out a long, shaky sigh. I felt the tension in her melt slightly under my touch, but the crack in her voice when she finally spoke almost broke me.

"She's just so fucking perfect, Lark," Sophie whispered, her voice thick with frustration. She opened her eyes, and they were glassy, filled with something raw that made my chest ache. "How can I compete with that? When she's there, it's like a fucking stab in the heart. She knows you. She was with you."

"Sophie—" I tried to cut in, but she kept going, her words tumbling out faster now, like she'd been holding them back for too long.

"All these firsts I'm having with you," she said, her voice cracking, "you've already had with her. And I know it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking about it. About her." Her eyes dropped, unable to meet mine anymore, and I felt her try to pull back from me. But I didn't let her. I couldn't.

"Sophie." I said her name firmly, and when she looked up at me again, I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers in a soft, lingering kiss. I wasn't trying to fix everything in that moment, but I wanted her to feel what I couldn't put into words yet. When I pulled back, I stayed close, my forehead resting against hers. "I am yours," I said, my voice quiet but steady. "I want you. No one else, blondie." Her lips twitched at the nickname, but her eyes still held that uncertainty. I pressed another kiss to her forehead, and then to the tip of her nose, before pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "You're perfect, Sophie," I said, my voice low and serious. "Not just in some surface-level way. You're perfect because you're kind, because you care about people even when they don't deserve it. Because you make me laugh at the stupidest things, and because when you're with me, it's the only time I ever feel like I can just... breathe. You're my first real love, Sophie. Everything before you doesn't matter." Her breath hitched, and I felt her hands grip the front of my shirt tightly, like she was grounding herself. I leaned in again, brushing my lips against hers as I whispered, "I want only you. Always."

She kissed me back then, fiercely, like she was trying to pour every ounce of her doubt, her love, her everything into that one moment. I met her with the same intensity, holding her tightly against me, wanting to reassure her in every way I could. The sound of the bell jolted us apart, echoing sharply in the bathroom. Sophie let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushed, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, so beautiful and alive in that moment.

"We're going to be late," she murmured, her voice still a little breathless.

"Worth it," I said with a grin, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing her hand. We rushed out of the bathroom together, laughing as we darted down the hall, the tension from before finally melting away.