While waiting, Aerith decides to reach out to her friends, hoping to distract herself. But when she texts Hazel, Lola, and Holden to see if they want to hang out, she either gets ignored or vague, dismissive responses. This deepens Aerith's feeling of isolation, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. She begins to wonder if the friendship group is falling apart or if they are excluding her on purpose.
Aerith retreats into her room, scrolling through her phone, obsessing over Jake's lack of communication, her doubts growing louder. When Jake finally texts her, it's brief and detached, making her feel sma
Aerith lay on her bed, the phone resting on her chest like a weight she couldn't escape. The ceiling above her was blurred, her eyes unfocused as she stared at it, waiting. Waiting for Jake's text. Waiting for something—anything—to reassure her that she hadn't imagined everything, that the conversation they'd had earlier wasn't just a sweet-talking mask to cover up the growing distance between them.
She had told herself she wouldn't let this get to her. After all, Jake had hugged her, kissed her forehead, and told her what she needed to hear. *I love you,* he'd said. *You're the only one I want.*
But now, as she lay there, staring at the phone that remained stubbornly silent, that reassurance felt like it was slipping away. She picked it up again, checking the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Still no message. No missed calls. Just the empty void of nothingness, taunting her.
Her thumb hovered over his name in her messages, the text thread from earlier replaying in her mind. She could send him another message, something casual. *Hey, how's practice going?* Or *Want to hang out later?* But the thought made her feel pathetic like she was clinging to something that was slipping through her fingers.
*He said he'd text you,* she reminded herself. *Just wait. He'll text.*
But it had already been hours. The longer she waited, the louder the doubts in her mind became. What if he was with Hazel? What if he had lied, and they were together right now, laughing, talking, doing things that she was too scared to even think about?
Her heart clenched at the thought, her stomach twisting into knots. She had to distract herself, or she'd drive herself insane.
Aerith opened her phone again, scrolling through her contacts. She sent a quick text to Hazel, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could hang out—just like old times. But after a few minutes, no reply came. She tried Lola next, then Holden, but their responses were vague and dismissive. Lola sent a half-hearted, "Sorry, busy tonight!" while Holden didn't even bother to respond.
*Of course,* Aerith thought bitterly. *Why would they want to hang out with me?*
She tossed the phone onto her bed and buried her face in her hands, trying to hold back the surge of loneliness that was threatening to overwhelm her. It felt like the world was closing in on her, piece by piece. First Jake, now her friends. What was happening? Was she imagining it, or were they pulling away from her?
Aerith pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly as she sat there, curled up in the silence of her room. The familiar comfort of her bed, her posters, the books on her shelves—all of it felt distant now like it belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn't drowning in paranoia and doubt.
*Maybe I should just call him,* she thought, reaching for her phone again. But before she could act on the thought, the screen lit up.
It was Jake.
Her heart leapt, relief flooding through her as she unlocked the phone to read his message. But as soon as she saw it, the relief vanished.
"Sorry, practice ran late. Can't hang out tonight. Maybe tomorrow?"
That was it. No warmth, no affection. Just a short, detached message that felt more like an afterthought than anything else. It was like the conversation they'd had earlier never even happened. The sweetness, the promises, the affection—all of it gone, replaced by the cold reality of who Jake was when she wasn't in front of him.
Aerith stared at the screen for a long moment, her chest tightening with a mix of anger and sadness. She typed out a response, something that sounded casual and cool: *"Okay, no worries. Talk tomorrow."* But as soon as she hit send, the emptiness returned.
She tossed the phone aside again, feeling more alone than ever.