Camila picks up on the second ring, like she was already waiting.
"I told them," she says, no hello. "Everything."
I slump back on the couch, phone pressed to my cheek, blanket tangled around my legs. "Define 'everything.'"
She exhales through her nose, which in Camila language means brace yourself."I called Lucas a coward. Told him he's been hiding behind guilt like it's some kind of personality trait. And I may or may not have verbally drop-kicked Alex into facing the fact that he keeps ghosting you emotionally and expecting a reward."
I blink. "You did all that in one visit?"
"You're welcome."
Despite myself, I laugh a little. "You really said all of it?"
"Word for word. Plus some flair. I had to improvise." Her tone softens just slightly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I say, then pause. "I don't know. I think I needed someone to say all that out loud."
She hums. "You could've said it."
"I don't know how. Especially not to Alex."
She doesn't speak right away, which is rare for her.
"I like him," I say finally. "I really like him. But it's like… every time we get close, he freezes. Or vanishes. And I don't know if I'm just a phase or if he's scared like I am or if I'm reading this all wrong."
"You're not," she says firmly.
I stare at the ceiling, heart thudding. "We kissed. I think he wanted it. I know I did. But then… nothing. He barely looked at me for days."
"Yeah, well," she says, voice dry again, "he's very much aware now."
I press my fingers to my forehead. "What if it's still not enough?"
"Then it's not. But you'll know. And if it is—if he wants this too—he's gotta show it. Starting now."
We talk a few more minutes before we hang up. I don't feel fixed, but I feel… steadier. Like someone sees the chaos and isn't running from it.
Hours pass. I eat dinner without tasting it. Watch a show without following it. Then I cave.
My feet take me to his door before I've fully made the choice.
He's sitting up in bed when I open it, hoodie on, hair messy, eyes wide like he wasn't expecting me but maybe hoped anyway.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey," he says back.
"Can I stay here tonight?" I ask, voice low. "I don't… wanna be alone."
He nods, moving over and pulling back the blanket without hesitation. "Yeah. Of course."
I slide into the bed next to him, the warmth immediate. We lie there quietly, shoulders just barely not touching.
"I talked to Camila," I murmur.
His breath hitches. "Yeah?"
"She told me what she said to you. And Lucas."
Alex sighs, half a laugh. "She doesn't hold back."
"No," I agree. "But… I think I'm glad she didn't."
We fall into silence again. Not heavy. Not tense. Just—open.
His pinky brushes mine under the covers, tentative but intentional.
I don't pull away.
He doesn't either.
Eventually, we both turn toward each other. No big gestures. No dramatic declarations. Just quiet company. Shared space.
We fall asleep that way—facing each other. Close. Almost something.Maybe already something.
And for once, the night doesn't feel like a waiting room.It feels like a beginning.