Daisy had a habit of mangling details. We would agree on Saturday, and only after I arrived at the cafe would she call, breathless and giggly, swearing she had meant Sunday all along. We would pick a restaurant, and she would confuse the street numbers or the name, leaving me wandering through the damp city streets for hours while my phone battery dwindled to nothing. I cried about it more times than I could count. In the beginning, Austin used to snap at her on my behalf. He would tell her to get her head out of the clouds, tell her to stop being so careless with my time. Then, quietly, without a discernible line being crossed, he stopped defending me. He started telling me to let it go. You know how flighty she is, Nora. Don’t be so sensitive. The week before freshman orientation, Daisy pitched an end-of-summer getaway. When my plane touched down, I stepped into the humid, fluorescent-lit terminal of Gerald R. Ford International in Grand Rapids, Michigan—an hour from the quiet lakeside dunes of Holland, Michigan. Daisy and Austin had touched down in Amsterdam. The actual Holland. Daisy’s apologies spilled through the speaker in a high, breathy rush. “Nora, sweetie, I am so sorry! Austin was distracting me while I was searching for flights, tickling me and knocking my phone around, and I swear I just clicked the wrong link!” “Who on earth mixes up Michigan with Western Europe, Daisy?” Austin’s voice drifted in from the background, laced with that fond, exasperated indulgence he used to reserve only for me. “You’re a walking disaster.” Then, shifting the phone closer: “Nora? Look, just make a weekend out of it in Michigan. Rent a cabin by the lake. Daisy’s a scatterbrain, you know that. Put every single charge on my Amex. Call it my treat, okay?” I stood by the baggage claim of an airport I had never intended to see, listening to the muffled clinking of glasses and their shared laughter on the other end of the line. A strange, quiet exhaustion washed over me. I was done playing this rigged game where I was always the one left behind. 1 Three days later, I landed back in Seattle. The two people who had promised to book a return flight that coincided with mine were nowhere to be found. I pulled my carry-on from the carousel, didn’t bother waiting, and hailed a cab outside the terminal. The driver was an older man with kind eyes in the rearview mirror. “Solo trip, kiddo?” “Yeah,” I said softly. “Brave. A lot of young girls wouldn’t do that alone. Weren’t you scared?” I managed a faint smile, watching the grey Pacific Northwest drizzle streak across the window. “Not anymore.” By the time I unlocked my front door, my phone was buzzing against my palm. The notifications were all from the three-person group chat that had been our little universe for the last two years. Daisy: Nora, oh my god, I am the worst! I completely misread the departure time on our boarding passes. We don’t fly out until tomorrow afternoon! Austin: You really think you could survive an international trip without me, scatterbrain? Thank God I came with you. Daisy: Nora! Tell your boyfriend to stop bullying me! Defend me! I set my bag on the hardwood, kicked off my sneakers, and typed back with steady fingers: You’re sharing a hotel room in Amsterdam. If you two want to flirt, you don’t need an audience. Not even ten seconds later, Austin’s name flashed across my screen. The moment I swiped to answer, I heard Daisy’s muffled, theatrical sniffling in the background. Austin came at me hot. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nora? Are you accusing us of something?” “No.” “Then what was that passive-aggressive crap?” “Just an observation.” “Nora! It was an honest mistake!” Austin’s voice rose, tight with defensive rage. “Daisy messed up the booking, but it’s not like you suffered. You spent three days at a lake resort on my dime, didn’t you? And now you’ve got Daisy in tears. She’s heartbroken. Just apologize to her so we can move on.” I heard rustling on the line, Austin’s muffled murmurs bleeding through: Come here, Daisy. Stop crying. I’m having Nora apologize. We still have the canal boat tour in Giethoorn this afternoon; you’re going to ruin your makeup. Then Daisy’s trembling voice took over the receiver. “I’m sorry, Nora… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone on this trip.” “It’s fine,” I said evenly. “I’m not mad at you.” “Really? Does that mean… will you still pick us up from Sea-Tac tomorrow? Our flight gets in at seven in the morning.” Daisy’s sniffling subsided with uncanny speed. “I bought you the sweetest souvenirs, I swear.” Before I could answer, Austin’s low voice cut in near the microphone: See? She’s coming. Stop sniffling. Let’s go touch up your face. I left my powder compact in the room, Daisy whined softly. I have it in my daypack, idiot. I grabbed it before we left. Their banter flowed on, effortless and intimate, completely forgetting that the line was still open. I didn’t say goodbye. I simply pressed the red circle on the screen and waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. No callback. No text. I had been erased from the conversation the second they had what they wanted. I walked into my bedroom. Hanging by the open window was a small, handcrafted glass wind chime. I reached up and unhooked it. Austin had taken me to an artisan glassblowing studio in the mountains during our junior year to make it. He had told me then that whenever the glass clinked in the breeze, it was his soul whispering that he was thinking of me. I couldn’t remember the last time the wind had blown through my room. My phone chimed—an automated newsletter notification. I opened Instagram anyway. My pinned DMs with Austin and Daisy still showed their messages from four days ago, telling me to pack light. Scroll down, and the thread was mostly me asking what time they were picking me up, what restaurant we were going to, receiving one-word answers hours later. I clicked on Austin’s profile. His header photo was still a shot of our hands intertwined from last autumn. But his feed told a different story. In our twelve months of dating, he had posted five photos of me. In the last seventy-two hours with Daisy, he had posted fifteen stories and three grid posts. I refreshed the page. His header was gone. In its place was a high-resolution photo of Daisy standing on a cobblestone bridge over an Amsterdam canal, laughing into the golden afternoon light as she clutched an enormous bouquet of deep red roses. The person behind the lens was obvious. I stared at it for a long second, double-tapped it with a steady thumb, and closed the app. Then I pulled an old shoebox from beneath my bed, already half-filled with movie stubs, dried corsages, and the silver bracelet he had given me for Christmas. I laid the glass wind chime gently on top of the pile and put the lid on. Tomorrow, I would hand it back to him and say my goodbyes. 2 I arrived at Sea-Tac at seven in the morning. By ten, I was still sitting on an iron bench outside the international arrivals gate. Twelve calls to Austin had gone straight to voicemail. Daisy’s phone went dead on the second ring. My stomach was hollow, aching with the acidic burn of hunger. The airport air was dry, smelling of jet fuel and industrial floor wax. A wave of cold sweat prickled across my collarbones, the edges of my vision fraying into speckled grey. I need sugar, I thought dimly, pushing myself up to find a vending machine. My knees dissolved beneath me. The linoleum rushed up, and the world went black with a dull, heavy thud. When I opened my eyes, the glare of fluorescent tubes stung my retinas. The rhythmic beep of a vitals monitor tapped against my temples, and cold saline was dripping steadily into the back of my hand. “Take it easy,” a nurse said gently, adjusting the IV line. “Your blood sugar tanked and you passed out in the terminal. The paramedics brought you down to the urgent care clinic.” She handed me a cup of apple juice and pointed toward the small bedside tray. “Your phone’s been vibrating off the table for the last twenty minutes, by the way.” “Thank you,” I rasped, propping myself up on my elbows. Missed calls from Austin. Missed calls from Daisy. I tapped Austin’s contact. “Nora! Where the hell are you?” His shout tore through the tiny curtained cubicle the instant the call connected. “It’s one in the afternoon! If you weren’t going to pick us up, you could have just had the decency to say so! Daisy has had terrible turbulence-induced migraines all morning, and she insisted on waiting for you at baggage claim!” “Austin—” “Save it! If you want to throw a temper tantrum at me, fine, but don’t take it out on your best friend! What did she ever do to you?” Daisy’s faint, distressed voice echoed in the background: Austin, stop, don’t yell at Nora… “Stay out of this, Daisy! You pamper her too much, and this is how she treats you! Nora, get your butt over to the boba shop across from Terminal 2 right now. We’re waiting.” The line went dead with an aggressive click. The nurse, who had caught every word, looked at me with furrowed brows, her eyes swimming with sympathy. “Is that your friend’s boyfriend? What an absolute jerk.” I swung my legs over the edge of the cot and pulled on my sneakers. “No. He’s mine.” Ignoring her stunned silence, I signed my discharge papers, gathered my backpack, and walked out into the terminal concourse. When I reached the tea shop, Austin and Daisy were sitting in a sunlit corner booth. They were wearing matching heather-grey oversized college hoodies, their heads pressed together over Austin’s phone as they shared a single cup of milk tea with two straws. “No, you idiot! You let me get ambushed again!” Daisy shrieked playfully, lunging across the table to snatch his phone. “Give it back!” Austin laughed, leaning away just enough to tease her. “I don’t even let Nora touch my competitive rank.” “See? You’re using Nora to shut me down again, you toxic monster!” Daisy grabbed the phone anyway, immediately mashing the screen and burning through his ultimate ability. I stood ten feet away, watching his shoulders shake with laughter as he playfully surrendered. I remembered playing with him back in the spring. If I died too early in a round, he would scowl and mute his headset. If I leaned in to watch him play, he would shoulder me aside with an irritated sigh: Nora, you’re throwing off my focus. Daisy had told me then: Boys take games seriously, sweetie. Don’t take it personally. He didn’t take games seriously. He just didn’t care about me. A round ended, and Austin leaned down, casually taking a sip from Daisy’s straw. I stepped up to the booth. The second Austin noticed my shadow falling over the table, the warmth vanished from his features, replaced by a wall of sullen irritation. “Look who finally decided to show up. What took you six hours?” “You told me seven in the morning,” I said quietly. His jaw twitched, his posture stiffening. “So? Flights get delayed. You could have waited, or at least texted us before taking off.” “Why didn’t you just tell me your actual flight number?” I looked straight into his dark eyes, refusing to blink. “You knew the timing was off. You could have sent a quick update. You could have texted me before boarding. But you didn’t. Because you wanted me to sit here and wait for you.” Daisy pushed her drink toward me, pulling up the digital menu on her phone with a pleading smile. “Nora, please don’t be mad. It was an honest mix-up. Let me buy you whatever you want, okay? Don’t fight with Austin.” “I’m not fighting,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm even to my own ears. “Austin, we’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” 3 Austin froze, his head snapping up as if he had been slapped. “What did you just say?” Daisy reached across the table, grabbing my wrist with cold, manicured fingers. “Nora, stop it! Blame me if you want, but don’t do something rash! You worked so hard to get Austin to notice you. Don’t throw away a year of dating over a silly misunderstanding! I’ll leave right now, okay? I’ll walk away!” “Sit down, Daisy,” Austin commanded, his expression curdling into cold derision. He glared at me across the laminate table. “Nora, you chased me for six months before I agreed to go out with you. Are you seriously trying to play chicken with me right now?” “I’m not playing,” I said. “I’m telling you.” A heavy silence descended between us, thick with the smell of steamed tapioca and espresso beans. “Give me a reason,” he demanded. “We aren’t right for each other.” “I asked for a reason,” he repeated, slamming his open palm onto the tabletop. Several patrons at nearby tables glanced over. “Because I chewed you out for being late? Because of my Instagram story? Because we took a trip to Europe? I thought you were mature, Nora. I thought you weren’t the type of girl who threw childish fits over nothing.” “I’m not mature,” I said. “And I’m done being convenient.” “Do you really have to talk back to me like this?” Austin’s knuckles turned white against the table edge, his eyes rimmed with angry red. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say any of this. Go home, sleep it off, and think about how you’re acting. Daisy treats you like a sister. I’ve taken care of you for a year. So what if there was a mix-up with the flights? The whole world knows you’re my girlfriend. What more do you want?” “He’s right, Nora,” Daisy chimed in, her voice trembling with manufactured distress. “Austin and I are just rivals, you know that! We argue about everything!” “Don’t waste your breath explaining yourself to her,” Austin said, rising from the booth and grabbing Daisy’s wrist to pull her up. “Orientation starts in three days. When we get to Columbia, don’t come crying to me when nobody wants to sit with you in the dining hall.” They grabbed their rolling bags and walked toward the sliding glass doors. I stood there for a long moment, ordered an iced tea, and let his parting words settle in my chest. Don’t come crying to me. I had spent my early high school years paralyzingly shy, an easy target for cruel jokes. Austin had stepped in once during sophomore year, shutting down a group of boys who had dumped my locker contents onto the floor. From that day on, whenever the world felt too loud or too unkind, I ran behind him, mistaking his towering ego for protection. He had guarded me for two years, and then, slowly, he became the one holding the weapons. I sipped the cold tea, tasting the bitter tannins on the back of my tongue. I didn’t need a shield anymore. I had learned how to stand on my own two feet. When I got home, my mother was in the kitchen, braising short ribs for dinner. She glanced up as I set my keys on the counter. “Nora? Are you still set on that overseas program?” “Yes,” I said. “You don’t want to go to New York? With Austin and Daisy?” I walked over, leaning against the marble island, and gave her a small, honest smile. “No, Mom. Not anymore.” My mother didn’t pry. She simply ladled a generous piece of tender beef onto my plate. “You’ll be far away, honey. It won’t be easy to visit. Daisy called earlier, by the way—she said the senior class is having a final goodbye dinner tomorrow night. You should go. Close that chapter properly.” 4 The following evening, I arrived at the upscale downtown Italian bistro my mother had written down for me. The text invite Daisy had passed along said seven o’clock sharp. When I opened the heavy glass doors and stepped into the private dining room, the party was already in full swing. Plates were cleared, wine was flowing, and the room was filled with roaring laughter. Marcus, our class president, spotted me from the head of the long table, his smile immediately souring into a scowl. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence. An hour and a half late, Nora? Seriously? Everyone else managed to show up on time for our final dinner.” I pulled out my phone, turning the screen toward him. “The message my mom got said seven.” Marcus scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Right, blame the messenger. Daisy sent individual calendar invites to everyone in this room. Why would she single you out with the wrong time?” A ripple of low, mocking chuckles drifted through the room. Daisy was seated near the center, wedged tightly beside Austin. She offered me a small, apologetic wave. Looking around the long banquet table, the only empty chair was directly opposite them. I took the seat, placing my canvas tote bag on the floor by my feet. The conversations around me surged back to life. “So, the power couple is conquering Manhattan together, huh?” someone called out from down the table. “Columbia won’t know what hit them,” Trent, one of Austin’s lacrosse buddies, bellowed, lifting his craft beer. “Our dynamic duo, taking New York by storm.” Glasses clinked. People leaned across the table to toast them. The sheer physical press of bodies leaning over my shoulders was suffocating. Instinctively, I looked up and caught Austin’s gaze. “Austin, can you ask your friends to give me some room?” Austin glanced at me, a smug, knowing smirk curling the corner of his lips. He lifted his glass, took a slow sip, and didn’t say a word. He was waiting for me to break. Waiting for me to beg. My jaw tightened. The quiet girl who used to swallow every slight burned away into something cold and sharp. “Back up,” I said, my voice ringing clear across the immediate circle. “You’re crowding me.” Trent’s grin vanished, replaced by sneering annoyance. “What’s your problem, Nora? You chose to sit right next to Austin, didn’t you?” “Seriously,” another guy muttered. “Nobody was even toasting you. Get over yourself.” “Honestly, man, this is why Austin and Daisy left you in the dust for Europe,” Trent laughed. “If I were Austin, I would’ve cut you loose months ago.” “Hey, knock it off, you guys!” Daisy suddenly piped up, waving a faux-threatening fist with an adorable pout. “Nobody gets to pick on my Nora! Nora, don’t be mad. Everyone’s just cranky because you were late.” I stood up. “I wasn’t late,” I said, staring directly at her. “Why did you tell my mother the reservation was for seven?” Daisy’s wide, innocent eyes blinked rapidly, instantly pooling with glistening moisture. “Nora, what are you talking about? I sent the exact same time stamp to everyone’s family group chats. I wouldn’t lie to your mom.” Her lower lip trembled, and a tear spilled over, catching the dim restaurant lighting. “I know you’re still furious about Amsterdam, but… how could you accuse me of something so malicious?” “See? This is why you shouldn’t have invited her, Daisy!” Trent snapped. “She’s always playing the victim!” “Austin, control your girl, man,” Marcus called out. Austin leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at me with cold, superior amusement. In that single, quiet heartbeat, the pieces clicked into place. Daisy hadn’t acted alone. “You knew,” I whispered, looking at Austin. “Why did you do this?” “You hurt Daisy’s feelings yesterday,” Austin said smoothly, his arm sliding behind Daisy’s shoulders to pull her against his side. “I figured making a bit of a fool of yourself tonight would balance the scales.” He let out a harsh, dry chuckle. “You keep insisting Daisy and I have something going on behind your back. You know what? Maybe we do. I really don’t understand how someone can be as ungrateful and venomous as you, Nora. Everything that goes wrong in your life, you blame on her.” His grip tightened on Daisy’s hoodie. “Now. Apologize to Daisy for lying about her.” Daisy gave a feeble, decorative struggle against his chest. “Austin, don’t… don’t be mean to Nora…” “No, Daisy. She needs to learn that her paranoid delusions have consequences.” A profound, bone-deep chill washed over me. I looked at the two people I had spent the last two years loving, prioritizing, and excusing. “Yo, Austin! Check this out!” Trent had reached down and grabbed my canvas tote from the floor, pulling out the shoebox I had packed that morning. My breath hitched. “Put that down!” I lunged forward to grab it, but Austin shot out an arm, his fingers clamping around my wrist like an iron band. “You aren’t touching anything until you apologize to Daisy.” Across the table, Trent ripped off the box lid, tossing aside the glass wind chime before his eyes caught the worn leather-bound notebook tucked at the bottom. “Holy crap,” Trent barked, flipping open the cover. “It’s her diary. Listen to this!” “Trent, stop!” I screamed, struggling against Austin’s grip, but Austin didn’t budge. He held me fast, watching me with chilling detachment. Trent cleared his throat, performing for the room: “May 12th. Sunny. Austin didn’t text me all morning, but he brought an iced matcha to homeroom. I forgave him instantly.” Laughter erupted down the banquet table. Trent flipped another page, raising his voice over the hooting: “June 1st. Overcast. Austin skipped study hall to take Daisy to the boardwalk carnival. I wanted to go so badly, but my grades aren’t high enough yet. I have to study harder. I have to get into Columbia so I can stay with him.” “Jesus Christ,” Marcus howled, wiping a tear from his eye. “What is this, an Austin Hughes observation log?” Even Daisy, still nestled into Austin’s shoulder, couldn’t suppress the smirk that twitched at the corner of her lips. She turned her face into his neck, letting out a muffled giggle. I stood in the center of the dining room, exposed, dissected, and stripped bare. The boy who had promised to protect me stood on the other side of the glass, smiling down at my ruin. “Apologize to Daisy, Nora,” Austin murmured, his voice dropping into that familiar, patriarchal tone he loved to use. “Apologize to both of us. Say you’re sorry, and I’ll let this go. I’ll still be your boyfriend. When we get to New York, I’ll still take care of you. I’ll still give you a future.” Daisy dabbed at her dry cheeks with a linen napkin. “It’s okay, Nora. You don’t have to apologize to me. But Austin is the best guy in the world. Just say sorry to him. We’re going to need each other in the city.” The humiliation in my chest flared, then burned away completely, leaving behind a cold, blinding clarity. Adrenaline surged through my limbs. With a violence I didn’t know I possessed, I yanked my arm from Austin’s grip and slammed my palm into his chest, sending him stumbling back into his chair. In one fluid motion, I snatched the shoebox from the table and hurled it directly into his face. The box burst open. Silver charms, concert tickets, dried petals, and the fragile glass wind chime shattered against his collarbone, raining down onto the hardwood floor in a shower of splintered shards. I ripped my journal from Trent’s frozen hands, shoved the torn pages into my bag, and turned toward the door. Before my hand touched the brass handle, I turned back one last time, my voice slicing through the stunned silence of the room. “Austin. We are done.” I didn’t sleep that night. I packed the rest of my clothes, boxed up my books, and by dawn, I was sitting at the departure gate, boarding a transatlantic flight forty-eight hours ahead of schedule. Two days later, Austin and Daisy landed at JFK. Daisy dragged her heavy luggage through the terminal, complaining about the New York humidity, but Austin remained planted near the baggage claim exit, his eyes frantically scanning the crowds for a familiar silhouette. Finally, unable to stand the gnawing hollow in his gut, he dialed Nora’s number. The call clicked straight to an automated message. Blocked. His fingers trembling, he called her parents’ landline. Nora’s mother answered, her voice cold and brief: She doesn’t want to talk to you, Austin. Leave us alone. A sickening wave of dread seized his chest. As a last resort, he dialed their high school guidance counselor. “Austin?” the counselor answered, sounding surprised. “Aren’t you in New York for orientation?” “Yes, sir. But… is Nora with her family? Did she defer her admission to NYU or Columbia?” “What are you talking about?” The counselor laughed warmly. “Nora left for Scotland two days ago. Didn’t she tell you? She was awarded the full merit scholarship to the University of St Andrews. One of the most competitive international awards in the state.”
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