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Chapter 18 - When it Was Just Us

Some moments don't need to be loud to matter.

Sometimes, the softest memories are the ones that hold the most weight.

And sometimes, a single text can pull you back into someone's orbit... even if you're not sure you belong there anymore.

Ethan didn't respond to Claire's message right away.

"Can we meet after class? Just us. Like before."

It sat there for a while, glowing quietly on his screen while the afternoon bell rang and students spilled into the hallways.

Isabella had texted him ten minutes earlier:

"Checklist Item 2.1: Pending Public Compliment. I've booked the front steps after sixth period. Bring water. It's hot today."

He hadn't replied to that either.

Instead, he found himself walking toward the old stairwell near the music room—the one where the vending machine always ate coins and no one really studied unless they were trying to hide.

Claire was already there, legs swinging over the edge of the bench, a half-melted drink in hand.

"Wow," she said as he approached, "you're late. Are you getting soft now that you're halfway bonded to a corporate intern?"

Ethan smirked. "She's not corporate. She's… curated."

Claire laughed. That sound—that unfiltered, high-school-genuine kind of laugh—felt oddly louder than everything else in the school.

"So," she said, eyes flicking to him. "Why'd you come?"

"You asked."

"You could've said no."

"I thought about it."

"And?"

"And here I am."

She hummed. Not smug, just content.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The hallway echoed faintly with lockers closing and someone playing a badly tuned guitar down the corridor.

Claire finally spoke.

"You don't seem like you lately."

"How so?"

"You're quieter."

"I've always been quiet."

"Yeah, but this is different. You're not just thinking—you're overthinking. Like you're waiting to get it wrong."

Ethan looked down at his shoes. "Maybe I am."

Claire leaned back on her elbows, her voice softer now.

"She's changing you, isn't she?"

He didn't answer.

Because he wasn't sure if it was changing... or unraveling.

"I'm not gonna tell you to choose me," Claire said, without looking at him. "I just wanted to remind you what it felt like when things didn't come with bullet points and goals."

"I remember," he said quietly.

She finally turned to face him.

"Good. Because I'm not here to compete with her checklist. I'm here to remind you that you used to be happiest when things were messy and unplanned."

"Are you saying I'm unhappy?"

"I'm saying you don't look sure."

Ethan exhaled through his nose. It wasn't a fight. It wasn't a confession.

It was just... honest.

As he stood to leave, Claire pulled out her phone again.

"You'll probably go back to her now," she said. "And that's fine. Just know..."

She tapped something on her screen and looked up.

"If she's gonna chase you with a binder, I'm gonna chase you with memories."

Sent.

She left him standing there—half guilty, half stunned.

And maybe... a little grateful.

Some girls use checklists.

Others just show up like they never left.

And that might be even harder to ignore.

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