Leia hadn't expected her Tuesday to end with the scent of freshly dyed hair and shopping bags rustling in the back seat. She sat beside her mom, window halfway down, blonde strands catching the wind as the sun began to dip behind the city skyline. Her stomach was still full from the late lunch they grabbed after school, and for the first time in forever, she felt something unfamiliar: lightness. Maybe even a little bit of happiness.
"You sure the highlights aren't too much?" Leia asked, tugging at a golden lock.
"They're perfect," her mom said, smiling with one hand still on the wheel. "You look confident. You look like you."
Leia bit back a smile. It wasn't often she heard someone speak about her like that. Especially not someone who looked at her like she mattered. She reached for her new school supplies in the back seat-a neat stack of pastel notebooks, gel pens, and folders her mom insisted on buying. "It's been a while since anyone took me school shopping," Leia admitted, running her hand along a sky-blue binder.
"Well, we're making up for lost time," her mother said. "Tomorrow we get shelves and curtains for your room. I want it to feel like yours, not just a guest room."
Leia exhaled, watching her reflection in the window. Blonde highlights. Fresh clothes. A new backpack. Her life was far from perfect-her dad was still a problem, and she still hadn't spoken to Miles-but something was shifting. Maybe, finally, the world was letting her breathe.
The next morning felt surreal.
Leia stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running a brush through her hair. Her mom had woken up early to help her pick out an outfit-something Leia would've normally resisted, but not today. A soft cropped sweater in a lavender shade and light-wash jeans that actually fit. Her shoes were brand new too, clean white sneakers that squeaked a little when she walked. Everything felt strange but right, like slipping into someone else's body and realizing you liked how it felt.
At school, the whispers started almost immediately.
"Did you see Leia Davids?"
"She looks so different."
"Is that...blonde in her hair?"
Leia didn't mind. For once, the attention didn't make her want to shrink. She kept walking, head high, earbuds in, music loud enough to drown out the buzz. Ashley and Mia were waiting by the lockers, eyes widening when they saw her.
"Holy crap," Mia said. "You're literally glowing."
Ashley grinned. "Is this your post-breakup glow-up, or...?"
Leia rolled her eyes. "There was no breakup, Ash. There was barely even a-" She paused. "-thing. We were just best friends, we are best friends"
Ashley made a face. "Could've fooled me."
Leia opened her locker. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm just trying to move on."
"Is that why you changed your whole aesthetic overnight?" Mia teased. "You look like a Pinterest board."
Leia laughed. It was the first time she'd done that in front of anyone besides her mom in a while. "Maybe I am a Pinterest board now. Who knows?"
---
Miles noticed before second period.
He had been leaning against a locker, talking to Kai and Jordan about the party Friday night when he saw her walk past. Leia. Blonde streaks catching in the light. New clothes. New bag. He froze midsentence.
"Yo, did you see that?" Jordan asked, nodding in her direction.
"Is that Leia?" Kai squinted. "She looks different. Like, good different."
Miles didn't respond.
He watched her laugh at something Mia said, her smile easy and relaxed. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming. She hadn't looked like that in weeks-no, months. She looked lighter. Happier.
Without him.
Kai nudged him. "Dude, you okay?"
"Yeah," Miles muttered. "Fine."
But he wasn't. Not really.
Something about seeing her like that-so far from the girl who used to sit across from him at the diner, trading fries and doodling in her pink notebook-knocked the wind out of him. He had always known she was beautiful, even in her messiest moments. But now? Now it was like the world finally saw it too.
And she wasn't even looking at him.
Leia felt his eyes on her all day.
In the hallways. In class. At lunch. She saw him sitting with his usual group, headphones around his neck, trying hard not to look in her direction but failing miserably. Part of her wanted to talk to him-ask why he'd been avoiding her, why he'd said those things, why it felt like they were strangers now-but the other part? The louder part?
She wanted him to feel what she had felt. The ache of being invisible. The sting of being replaced.
So she ignored him.
Ashley kept chatting beside her, giving her a play-by-play of party plans and outfit options, and Leia nodded along, only half-listening. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Miles. What would he say if she confronted him? Would he care? Would he finally say what she needed to hear?
Or would he just make it worse?
By the end of the day, they had passed each other in the halls three times, and not once had either of them spoken.
---
After school, Leia rode home with her mom.
They talked about her classes, the teachers she liked, and the books she wanted to read. Her mom promised to take her to the library on Saturday. "We'll make it a thing," she said. "Just us."
Leia smiled, pressing her forehead against the car window. She should've felt complete. Everything was finally changing. Finally getting better. But a small, persistent voice at the back of her mind kept tugging at her:
He saw you. And he said nothing.
---
Miles sat on the curb across from his house, hoodie pulled up over his head, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The late afternoon sun was too bright, and his chest was too full. He couldn't shake the image of Leia walking past him at school-blonde streaks shining, smile bright, wearing clothes that made her look like someone out of a catalog.
She hadn't even looked at him. Not once.
And honestly, he didn't blame her.
He'd been a mess. Distant. Moody. Cold. He knew it. Everyone else just got fragments of it, the quiet silences or the occasional snapped reply. But Leia had gotten the worst of it-his sharp tongue, his sarcasm, the words he hadn't meant but couldn't take back.
Now here she was, completely changed. Not just on the outside, but in the way she carried herself. She wasn't shrinking anymore. She wasn't hiding. She looked like a girl who finally realized her worth-and it stung because she'd done it without him.
He kicked a pebble across the sidewalk. It clinked against the metal trash can and rolled into the gutter.
"You're being dramatic," he muttered to himself.
But he wasn't. He could lie to everyone else, but not to himself. The truth was, seeing her like that... it scared him. Because deep down, he was terrified she was moving on. From her past. From the people who hurt her.
From him.
At first, he told himself she was just mad. That it would blow over like it always did. But it hadn't. And now he was watching her become someone new, while he still felt stuck in the same house, in the same broken routine, with the same broken people.
His phone buzzed. A text from Theo.
"Dad called from rehab. He wants to talk to you."
Miles didn't respond. He didn't have the energy. His dad had barely talked to him sober-what made him think anything would be different now?
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and stood up slowly. His feet were heavy. His mind even heavier.
As he crossed the street, he glanced at the diner down the block. A few cars were parked outside. People sitting in booths. Laughing. Living.
He wondered if she'd been in there lately.
He wondered if she'd ever think of that corner booth again, the one by the window where they used to sit for hours-her sketching nonsense in her notebook, him pretending not to stare.
---
That night, Miles tossed and turned in bed.
Everything was too loud. The buzzing in his head, the aching in his chest, the words he wished he could take back and the ones he never said at all.
"maybe i dont want to be."
He winced at the memory.
He hadn't meant that. Not really. He was just angry. Scared. Tired of not knowing how to help her or himself. But those words stuck in the air like smoke, impossible to wave away.
He opened his phone and stared at her contact. No new texts. No unread messages.
He hovered his thumb over the keyboard. I miss you. I'm sorry. Are you okay?
But he typed nothing.
Because what if she didn't care anymore?
What if she had outgrown him the same way she'd outgrown her old backpack, her old clothes, her old life?
What if he was just something she needed to let go of to finally be happy?
Miles turned his phone face down and stared at the ceiling.
He hadn't lost her to another guy.
He had lost her to himself.