Chapter Text
Kris had never considered themself particularly good at disappearing. They were usually too loud when they wanted to be noticed and too strange when they wanted to blend in, and Noelle had always been annoyingly good at finding them anyway.
It didn't matter if Kris hid behind the library shelves, took some obscure hallway through the school, or wandered outside during lunch just to avoid everyone for a while. Somehow, eventually, there would be a soft voice calling their name, followed by the familiar sight of Noelle peeking around a corner with that uncertain little smile she always wore when she wasn't sure whether she was welcome.
It had become something Kris expected without realizing it. Something dependable. Something they had quietly built their days around. So when they started avoiding her, they did it gradually, almost carefully, as though making the distance small enough would keep either of them from noticing it.
They stopped waiting outside her classroom. At first, Noelle assumed Kris had simply gotten distracted. Then it happened again. And again. She started leaving her classroom a little slower, lingering by the door and looking down the hallway in the hope that Kris might appear at the last second, hands shoved into their pockets and that familiar expression on their face. Sometimes she thought she saw them and her heart jumped, only for the person to turn out to be someone else.
Kris stopped sitting beside her at lunch, too. They chose a seat several places away, then eventually another table altogether. If Noelle approached, they would give her a small smile, but it never reached their eyes. If she asked whether something was wrong, Kris would shrug and say, "Nothing."
If she asked whether they were mad at her, they would shake their head. If she asked whether they still wanted to hang out, there would always be some vague excuse about homework, being tired, or having something else to do.
The worst part was that Kris never gave her anything concrete to hold onto. There was no argument she could replay and identify as the beginning. No cruel words she could point toward and say, That's what changed everything.
Instead, there was only absence. A chair that remained empty beside her. A phone that stopped lighting up with their name. A familiar figure disappearing around corners before she could catch up.
It made Noelle's thoughts turn inward because, without an explanation, she had nothing else to blame. Maybe she had talked too much. Maybe she'd been asking for too much attention. Maybe Kris had finally gotten tired of listening to her worries. Maybe she'd become embarrassing. Maybe she'd made everything about herself without realizing it. Every possibility felt believable when she was alone with it long enough.
Her messages became shorter because she was afraid of overwhelming them, but somehow even that felt wrong. She would type a paragraph and erase it, then type something simple instead.
hey.
Delete.
how are you?
Delete.
are you busy?
Delete.
Eventually she'd settle on something painfully neutral, like you okay?
Kris would read it and sometimes respond hours later with a single word.
yeah.
Noelle would stare at that word for several minutes, wondering whether she was supposed to answer. Sometimes she would send another message, then feel guilty immediately afterward and delete it before Kris could see it. She hated how much she was monitoring herself. Every conversation felt like walking through a room full of glass, terrified that one wrong movement would make everything shatter.
One evening, she sat on the floor of her bedroom with her back against the side of her bed, her phone held loosely between both hands. The room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the house beyond her door. Her homework sat untouched nearby. She had opened the same conversation with Kris so many times that she knew exactly where every message was without having to search.
There was one from months ago where Kris had sent something completely ridiculous and Noelle had laughed so hard she'd nearly dropped her phone. There were messages about school, about games, about little things they had seen during the day. There were moments where Kris had reassured her without even being asked.
I'm here.
You're okay.
You don't have to explain.
They had never seemed like particularly important words when Kris first said them.
Now they felt enormous.
Noelle scrolled further, her thumb slowing as she reached older messages. She remembered how easy it used to be. She hadn't needed to calculate how often she talked to Kris or wonder whether she was asking for too much. She could simply send something silly because she thought of them, and Kris would answer. Sometimes they would tease her. Sometimes she would tease them back. Sometimes neither of them would say anything important at all, and somehow those conversations had been the most comforting.
She missed the ordinary parts more than anything.
She missed knowing where Kris would be after school. She missed hearing their footsteps beside hers. She missed being able to look over during class and know that if their eyes met, there would be some tiny shared joke between them that nobody else understood.
Her throat tightened.
She opened the message box.
are you awake?
She stared at it for nearly a minute before pressing send.
The message delivered.
Noelle waited.
She told herself she wouldn't send anything else. She would give Kris time. She would respect whatever space they wanted. She set her phone down, counted slowly in her head, then picked it up again almost immediately.
Nothing.
She typed another message.
can you talk to me for a little bit?
She almost deleted it. Instead, she added, i don't need you to fix anything.
Another pause.
Then, after staring at the words until they blurred slightly, she wrote one last message.
i just don't want to be alone right now.
She sent it before she could change her mind.
Across town, Kris's phone lit up.
They saw Noelle's name.
They read every message.
For several seconds, they simply stared at the screen.
Their first instinct was to answer immediately. Their fingers even moved toward the keyboard before stopping. They could picture Noelle sitting somewhere in her room, probably curled up under a blanket, waiting for the little typing bubble to appear. Kris knew what she wanted. She wanted them to say something familiar. Something reassuring. Maybe even something stupid enough to make her laugh.
And part of Kris desperately wanted to give that to her.
But another part of them recoiled.
Because answering meant opening the door.
Opening the door meant explaining why they had pulled away. Explaining meant admitting that they had become overwhelmed by how much Noelle relied on them, how much her emotions seemed to change depending on whether they were there, how frightening it felt to know that someone cared about them enough to be hurt by their absence.
Kris didn't know how to carry that responsibility. They barely knew how to carry their own feelings. They had spent so long convincing themself that needing nobody was safer that Noelle had somehow slipped through every defense they'd built.
She was the exception.
That frightened them more than they wanted to admit.
Kris typed, I'm sorry.
They stared at it.
Deleted it.
Typed, I can't talk right now.
Deleted that too.
Eventually, the screen went dark.
Kris placed the phone facedown.
They told themself it was better this way.
They didn't believe it.
The next morning, Noelle barely slept. She had spent most of the night waking up and checking her phone, each time hoping she'd somehow missed a message. There was nothing. When she finally dragged herself out of bed, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tried to make herself look like someone who hadn't spent the entire night worrying.
She fixed her hair. She washed her face. She practiced a smile. By the time she went downstairs, she had convinced herself that today could still be different.
Maybe Kris would talk to her.
Maybe yesterday had simply been a bad day.
Maybe everything would go back to normal.
When her mother asked if she was all right, Noelle smiled automatically and said, "I'm okay."
It was the easiest lie in the world.
At school, she searched for Kris before she even reached her classroom. She found them near the lockers.
For one brief second, relief washed through her so strongly that she almost laughed. Kris was there. They were close enough to touch. Close enough that maybe she could finally ask what was happening.
Noelle walked toward them.
"Kris?"
They heard her.
She knew they did.
Their shoulders stiffened for half a second before they shut their locker.
Noelle waited for them to turn around.
They didn't.
Kris walked past her.
Noelle remained standing there, frozen in the middle of the hallway as the crowd moved around her. She watched their back disappear between other students, and something inside her sank so heavily that she couldn't even make herself follow.
She whispered their name again, but they were already gone.
By lunchtime, she couldn't keep pretending that she was okay.
She found one of the quieter hallways and sat against the wall, pulling her knees close. She tried to breathe normally. She tried to think rationally. She tried telling herself that Kris was allowed to need space, that people sometimes became distant for reasons that had nothing to do with her.
But the thoughts wouldn't stay in order.
One second she felt angry, the next she felt guilty for being angry. Then she felt hurt, and immediately afterward ashamed for allowing herself to be hurt. Everything tangled together until she couldn't tell which emotion belonged to which thought.
She missed Kris.
That was the simplest part.
She missed them so much.
She missed them in a way that made the school feel wrong without them beside her. She missed having someone to glance at when a teacher said something ridiculous. She missed their quiet presence. She missed being able to sit beside them without needing to fill the silence. She missed knowing that if something went wrong, Kris would be there.
Now she wasn't even sure they wanted her around.
Her eyes burned.
She pressed her palms against her face, trying to stop herself from crying.
It didn't work.
Susie found her a few minutes later.
"Noelle?"
Noelle immediately wiped at her face and looked away. "I'm fine."
Susie stared at her.
"No, seriously," Noelle insisted weakly. "I'm okay.."
"You're crying in an empty hallway."
Noelle's mouth trembled.
Susie's expression softened. She didn't make a joke. She didn't tell Noelle to cheer up. She simply sat down beside her, leaving enough space that Noelle wouldn't feel trapped.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Noelle whispered, "I don't know what I did."
Susie looked over.
"I don't know what I did to Kris," Noelle continued, her voice becoming shakier. "They won't tell me. I've asked, and they keep saying nothing is wrong, but something is wrong. I know there is."
She looked down at her hands.
"If I did something, I wish they'd just tell me. I would've listened. I would've apologized. I would've changed."
"You shouldn't have to change everything about yourself because someone won't communicate with you."
"But what if I'm the problem?"
"You're not automatically the problem just because somebody is upset."
Noelle shook her head. "You don't understand."
"Then tell me."
The invitation broke something open.
Noelle's eyes filled again. "I'm scared they're going to leave."
Susie didn't interrupt.
"I know that sounds stupid.."
"It doesn't."
"I keep thinking if I could just be less annoying, or less emotional, or stop asking for so much, then maybe they wouldn't want to get away from me." Her voice cracked. "I don't want to bother anyone. I don't want people to feel like they have to take care of me. I just..." She swallowed. "I don't want everyone to eventually decide I'm too much work."
Susie looked down at the floor for a moment before answering.
"Noelle, needing somebody doesn't make you a burden."
Noelle didn't respond.
"You don't have to earn people staying."
That sentence made her cry harder.
Susie stayed beside her.
Eventually Noelle whispered, "Can you stay?"
"Yeah."
"Until I calm down?"
"Yeah."
Noelle hesitated. "You're not going to get tired of me?"
"No."
"You promise?"
"I said no."
Noelle leaned against her shoulder, still crying quietly. Susie didn't try to make the moment into something bigger than it was. She didn't try to replace Kris. She didn't tell Noelle that she could give her everything Kris couldn't.
She simply stayed because Noelle had asked her to stay, and because sometimes being there was all a person could reasonably do.
After a while, Noelle whispered, "I just want my best friend back."
"I know."
"I miss them."
"I know."
"I want things to be normal again."
Susie exhaled softly. "You can miss them, Noelle. You can love having them in your life. You can wish things were different. But you still have to take care of yourself while you're waiting for answers."
Noelle closed her eyes.
"What if they don't come back?"
Susie didn't answer immediately.
She knew there was no promise she could make that would fix that fear.
Finally, she said, "Then we'll figure out what happens next when we actually get there."
Noelle nodded against her shoulder.
She didn't feel better.
Not completely.
But she wasn't alone.
And for the moment, that mattered.
When the bell rang, neither of them moved right away. Noelle looked exhausted, her face still damp from crying, but she seemed less overwhelmed than before. Eventually she stood and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. She looked down the hallway once, almost unconsciously, as though some part of her still expected Kris to appear.
They didn't.
"Can you walk home with me?" she asked.
Susie nodded. "Yeah. Of course."
Noelle gave her a small, grateful smile.
They started walking.
Neither of them noticed Kris standing farther down the hallway.
Kris had seen enough.
They had watched Noelle cry. They had watched Susie sit beside her. They had heard enough to understand that the distance they'd created hadn't made things easier. It hadn't erased the problem. It hadn't made Noelle need them less.
It had simply made her hurt.
Kris's first instinct was to leave before Noelle noticed them.
Their second was to follow.
Neither happened.
They remained where they were, staring after the two figures disappearing down the hall.
For the first time, Kris understood that avoiding someone wasn't the same as becoming less important to them. They had thought distance would make everything quieter. Instead, it had only made the silence louder.
They remembered every time Noelle had smiled at them. Every time she'd waited. Every message they hadn't answered. Every moment they'd chosen to walk away.
Kris wanted to tell her that she hadn't done anything wrong.
They wanted to tell her she wasn't too much.
They wanted to tell her that the problem had never been that they didn't care.
It was that they cared so much that they didn't know what to do with it.
But wanting to say something and actually saying it were two completely different things.
So Kris stayed silent.
And Noelle kept walking home with Susie, unaware that Kris had been watching.
For now, they were separated by nothing more than a hallway, a handful of unanswered messages, and everything neither of them knew how to say.
Kris had been afraid of being needed.
Noelle had been afraid of being abandoned.
Neither of them understood that both fears could hurt just as much as the thing they were trying to avoid.
The days that followed were strange.
Noelle didn't suddenly stop caring about Kris. She still thought about them when she woke up, still caught herself looking toward their usual places, still felt a painful little twist whenever something reminded her of them.
But something had changed after talking to Susie. It wasn't that the hurt had disappeared. If anything, Noelle finally allowed herself to feel all of it without immediately turning it into an accusation against herself. She could admit that she missed Kris while also admitting that Kris had hurt her. She could love them and still be angry. She could want them back and still decide that she deserved an explanation.
Susie didn't tell her what to think.
She simply reminded Noelle that her feelings were hers.
That mattered more than Susie realized.
Little by little, Noelle stopped checking her phone every few minutes. She started eating lunch again instead of picking at her food while staring at the empty seat beside her. She talked to Susie about ordinary things. Sometimes they laughed. Sometimes Noelle still became quiet, and Susie would simply sit beside her without forcing conversation.
It wasn't the same as what she had with Kris.
Noelle didn't want it to be.
But it was something.
And something was better than spending every day convincing herself she deserved the silence.
Kris noticed.
They noticed everything.
They noticed when Noelle stopped waiting. They noticed when she stopped trying to catch them after class. They noticed when she began walking beside Susie instead.
And, more than anything, they noticed when Noelle started smiling again.
Kris told themself that they should be happy.
They weren't.
They were angry.
Not openly. Not enough that anyone else would notice. Their anger lived in the tightness of their jaw and the way their fingers curled whenever they saw Susie beside Noelle. It lived in the thoughts they refused to say aloud.
She wasn't there before.
She doesn't know Noelle like I do.
She doesn't understand what we are.
She's getting in the way.
Kris knew those thoughts weren't fair.
They knew Susie hadn't done anything wrong.
But admitting that meant admitting something much more painful: Noelle had chosen to let Susie comfort her because Kris had chosen not to.
Blaming Susie was easier.
It gave Kris somewhere to put the jealousy. It gave them an enemy when the real problem was staring back at them from every reflective surface.
They had pushed Noelle away.
And now they were upset that she wasn't chasing them anymore.
One afternoon, Kris sat alone in their room with their phone resting beside them. They opened their conversation with Noelle and stared at the last messages again.
are you awake?
can you talk to me for a little bit?
i don't need you to fix anything.
i just don't want to be alone right now.
Kris's chest tightened.
They remembered ignoring them.
They remembered telling themself that Noelle needed to learn how to stand on her own.
Now that she was doing exactly that, Kris couldn't stand it.
Their mind immediately tried to defend them.
She moved on too quickly. The thought was ridiculous.
Kris knew it.
Still, another followed.
She doesn't need me anymore.
Then another.
Maybe she never did.
Kris shut their eyes. "No," they whispered.
They wanted to be important.
They wanted to be needed.
They wanted Noelle to prove that they were still special to her. And underneath all of it was something much more vulnerable than pride.
They were terrified that Noelle could learn how to live without them.
Because if she could, then Kris would have to face the possibility that they were not as irreplaceable as they had secretly believed.
The realization made them feel small. And Kris hated feeling small.
So they turned the feeling into anger instead.
The next day, they saw Noelle and Susie together again.
Noelle was talking about something, her expression softening into a small smile as Susie listened. Kris watched from across the hallway.
Something inside them burned.
They wanted Noelle to look at them.
She didn't.
They wanted her to notice them.
She didn't.
They wanted her to come running back the way she used to.
She didn't.
Kris turned away before she could see them staring. They walked several steps before stopping.
Then they heard it.
"Kris."
They froze.
Noelle.
They turned slowly.
She was standing several feet away, alone.
Susie wasn't with her this time.
Noelle held onto the straps of her bag, her hands trembling slightly. But there was something different about her expression. She looked nervous, yes. Hurt, definitely.
But she wasn't begging.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
Kris almost said no.
Instead, they nodded.
They moved toward a quieter part of the hallway, away from the other students. For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Kris waited.
Some part of them expected Noelle to apologize. Maybe she'd say she'd been too emotional. Maybe she'd say she'd been bothering them. Maybe she'd promise to give them more space.
Instead, Noelle looked directly at them.
"You hurt me."
Kris blinked. The simplicity of it caught them off guard.
Noelle's voice trembled, but she continued. "You hurt me, Kris. A lot."
Kris looked away. "I never said I was trying to hurt you."
"I know."
The answer came quickly.
Noelle swallowed. "That's the problem. You don't have to try to hurt somebody for what you do to hurt them."
Kris's expression tightened.
"I kept asking what was wrong," Noelle continued. "You kept telling me nothing was wrong. I kept thinking maybe I'd done something. I kept thinking maybe I was annoying you or asking for too much. I spent so much time trying to figure out what I did because you wouldn't tell me."
Kris said nothing.
"If you needed space, you could've told me." Her voice cracked. "If you were overwhelmed, you could've told me. If you didn't know what to say, you could've said that. Instead, you just stopped talking to me while I was left wondering whether you even cared anymore."
"I did care."
Noelle looked at them. "Then why didn't you act like it?"
Kris had no answer.
Noelle wiped at her eyes. "I would've listened to you. I would've respected your space. But you didn't give me the chance. You made the decision for both of us."
Kris felt their chest tighten.
"You've been talking to Susie a lot," they said.
Noelle frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"She doesn't understand us."
"She never said she did."
"She's trying to get between us."
Noelle's expression changed.
"No."
Kris stared at her.
"No, she isn't," Noelle said more firmly. "And I'm not going to let you blame her for something I decided for myself."
Something inside Kris snapped into defensiveness.
"So you're defending her."
"I'm defending myself."
Silence. The words felt like a door closing.
Kris stared at Noelle as though they were seeing someone they hadn't expected to exist.
She was still scared.
Still hurt.
But she wasn't surrendering anymore.
"Susie helped me realize that I don't have to keep begging somebody to treat me like they care," Noelle said quietly. "That's all she did."
Kris's expression hardened. "So now you don't need me?"
Noelle's face fell. "I didn't say that."
"You don't act like you need me."
"I still care about you."
"That's not what I asked."
Noelle stared at them. Then she said, "That's exactly what you're doing."
Kris went still.
"You're trying to make me feel like I have to need you again," Noelle continued. "You're not asking if I'm okay. You're asking if I'm still dependent on you."
Kris couldn't answer.
Because she was right.
And they hated it.
They had wanted her to come back. They had wanted her to prove they still mattered. They had wanted her to need them because needing them had always made Kris feel important, safe, irreplaceable.
But now Noelle could see it. And Kris didn't know what to do with that.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore," they finally said.
Noelle's expression softened.
"I never said that."
"You stopped looking for me."
"Because you kept walking away."
"You were always with Susie."
"Because she stayed."
Kris flinched.
Noelle's eyes filled with tears.
"I wanted you to stay," she whispered. "I wanted you to talk to me. I wanted you to tell me what was happening instead of making me guess. I wanted you, Kris. I still do. But I can't keep destroying myself trying to prove that I deserve to be treated like I matter."
Kris looked down.
The anger was gone now.
There was only fear.
They wanted to tell her that she mattered.
They wanted to tell her that she mattered more than anyone. They wanted to tell her that Susie could never replace what they had. But beneath those thoughts was another realization they couldn't escape.
They didn't want Noelle to feel safe with only them. They wanted to become the only person she could turn to. And that wasn't love in the way they wanted it to be.
It was fear.
Fear disguised as possession.
Fear disguised as anger.
Fear disguised as the desperate need to remain important.
Kris's voice finally broke. "Don't leave me."
Noelle's face crumpled.
For a moment, she looked like the Noelle Kris remembered the girl who would've immediately promised she wasn't going anywhere, who would've apologized even while she was hurting, who would've tried to make Kris feel better before allowing herself to feel anything.
But she didn't do that this time.
"I don't want to," she whispered.
Kris looked up.
"But I can't be the only one trying."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Kris's eyes lowered.
They had wanted Noelle to need them. They had wanted her to come running back. They had wanted to feel irreplaceable.
But what they had actually needed was for her to choose them freely.
Not because she was afraid to be alone.
Not because she thought she had to earn their affection.
Not because Kris had made themself the center of her world.
Just because she wanted them there.
Kris swallowed. "I don't know how to do this."
Noelle gave a shaky laugh through her tears. "Neither do I."
They stood there together.
Neither of them moved closer.
Neither of them walked away.
For the first time in days, there was no pretending. Noelle could finally admit that she loved Kris and that they had hurt her.
Kris could finally admit that they missed Noelle and that their jealousy had come from fear rather than some right to control who she leaned on.
Neither truth erased the other.
They were both still hurting. Both still confused. Both still carrying feelings too large for them to understand.
And beneath all the anger, all the fear, all the resentment and pride, there was still the same unbearable truth that had been there from the beginning.
They loved each other.
That was why the distance hurt so much.
Kris wanted Noelle close but didn't know how to let her close without feeling overwhelmed.
Noelle wanted Kris close but had finally learned that loving them didn't mean abandoning herself whenever they pulled away.
They were standing only a few feet apart, yet it felt like there was an entire world between them.
Kris looked at her.
Noelle looked back.
Neither knew how to cross it.
But this time, Kris didn't walk away.
And this time, Noelle didn't chase.
They simply stayed there, facing everything they had been too afraid to say, finally understanding that love could exist between two people and still become painful when fear was allowed to speak louder than honesty.
For now, neither of them knew what would happen next.
But at least they were finally talking.
And after days of silence, that was the first fragile step toward something neither of them was ready to name.