Luka sat in the back of history class, doodling mindlessly in his notebook. The teacher’s voice was just noise now. It had been for weeks. He couldn’t concentrate.
He didn’t want to look at Eliot, but his eyes kept wandering. It wasn’t even that he liked Eliot like that—no, it was worse. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but every time Eliot laughed with Oliver, or brushed against him like it was nothing, Luka felt something twist in his chest. It wasn’t jealousy. Or at least, he didn’t want to admit it was. It was something worse. Something... suffocating.
Eliot and Oliver were up front, like always. Heads bent together, whispering like they had some inside joke only they were in on. Luka didn’t know when it had happened—when they’d crossed that line from just friends to... whatever they were now. It hurt. It hurt way more than he’d ever thought it would.
He used to be the one Eliot came to. He was the one Eliot trusted, the one he laughed with and spent hours talking to. They were supposed to always be like that. But now? Now, Luka was invisible. He wasn’t even in the picture anymore.
Luka’s eyes flicked over to them again. Eliot laughed at something Oliver said, his hand brushing against Oliver’s. Luka felt that ache in his chest, the one he couldn’t shake, like someone was squeezing his heart. He hated it. He hated the way their eyes met, the way they smiled at each other. He hated how every little touch seemed like a reminder that he wasn’t there anymore.
He shifted in his seat, trying to look like he was paying attention to something. Anything. But the frustration was there, a tight knot that never seemed to loosen. Everything had been fine before. The three of them, laughing and being stupid together. Now? Now it felt like they had everything Luka didn’t. Oliver was everything Luka wasn’t: confident, easygoing, good with people. It wasn’t fair.
Luka wasn’t any of that. He was just there. Just... the leftover friend. The one who didn’t fit in anymore.
The bell rang, breaking his spiral of thoughts. Luka jumped a little, quickly packing up his stuff, needing to get out of that classroom. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think with Eliot and Oliver sitting there, acting like Luka didn’t even exist.
As he walked out, he passed Eliot’s desk. For a second, he thought Eliot might look up, but he didn’t. His eyes didn’t even flicker in Luka’s direction.
The rejection stung, sharper than it used to. Luka tried to shake it off, but it was like a constant ache, something he’d gotten used to, but couldn’t quite ignore.
Once, Eliot would’ve smiled at him. He would’ve nudged him, made some dumb joke to make him laugh. But that was before. Before Oliver. Before everything changed.
"Luka," a voice said, pulling him out of his head. He glanced up and saw some random classmate standing in the doorway, looking at him like he was a problem to solve. Luka didn’t care enough to ask what they wanted.
“Yeah?” His voice came out flat, like everything else.
“You good?” the classmate asked, looking like Luka was some kind of puzzle they couldn’t figure out.
Luka didn’t answer. He just nodded, his feet already moving. The hallway felt like it was closing in on him. He couldn’t get out fast enough.
He didn’t want to see Eliot and Oliver out there, acting like the world was theirs. He didn’t want to see them touch each other, or smile, or... whatever. Luka didn’t want to be around it anymore.
When had it all changed? When had Eliot stopped being his best friend and started being someone else’s? Luka didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that it hurt. It hurt in a way he didn’t know how to fix.
He pulled his jacket around himself tighter, as if it would shield him from the ache in his chest. God, how he wished he could go back to when things made sense. Back when he and Eliot were everything to each other, and things didn’t hurt this much.
But those days were gone. And Luka didn’t know how to get them back.
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