Chapter 3

At ten in the morning, I received a message I had not expected.

It was from Miguel Guerrero, one of Leon's closest friends. He was also one of the few who had known I had a crush on Leon back in the day, though he had always thought of it as a sweet, innocent schoolgirl thing.

Miguel: [Emelia, you're back in Nousiville? Leon mentioned it. If you have time, let's hang out.]

I stared at the message for ten seconds and then typed back a single word: [Okay.]

Miguel was someone I needed to leverage.

He was the core of Leon's crew, well-liked and discreet. His word carried real weight. If he backed me, I would have a solid reputation throughout Leon's entire social circle.

Now that he was reaching out first, it felt like a card handed right to me.

We met at a café near the school.

When I arrived, Miguel was already inside. He looked exactly the same, with a round face and smiling eyes like crescents. He appeared harmless, but I knew he was sharp as a tack.

"Emelia!" He stood up and waved me over. "Over here."

I walked over and sat down, ordering a hot milk to reinforce my angelic girl persona. With no coffee, but only milk, I would look completely innocent.

"Three years gone, and you haven't changed at all," Miguel said, looking me over with his eyes searching. "You still have that clean, innocent aura."

"Thanks," I replied with a smile. "You haven't changed, either. You are still such a smooth talker."

After a few polite exchanges, as I had expected, Miguel steered the conversation straight to Leon.

"You really came back at the perfect time." He lowered his voice, his expression growing a little more complicated. "Leon's got a girl hanging around him lately. Have you met her?"

"You mean Greta?" I nodded. "Yes, I saw her at his place last night."

"Oh, you've already met her?" Miguel's expression became even harder to read. "So, what do you think of her?"

This was a trap.

Miguel was trying to figure out where I stood and how things really were between Leon and me.

If I spoke badly of Greta, I would look petty and jealous, which would destroy the innocent image I was cultivating.

If I praised her, I would seem oblivious, unaware that she was competition.

I lowered my gaze and traced the rim of my milk cup with my fingers.

"Greta is pretty cool," I said, looking up with a sincere smile. "She is cheerful and treats Leon really well. It's good for Leon to have such a lively friend by his side."

Miguel paused, a bit surprised. "You do not mind?"

"Mind what?" I tilted my head, looking confused. "Leon's friends are my friends, too."

Miguel watched me for a moment in silence and then sighed.

"Emelia, you are still like before," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "Always looking on the bright side."

I looked down and took a sip of my milk without saying anything.

Sure enough, Miguel continued. "But let me give you a heads-up. Greta has gotten really close to Leon. A little too close for comfort. Even the rest of us are starting to notice.

"Last month, they went to the movies together, only the two of them. The week before last, it was Greta's birthday, and she insisted Leon stay with her until midnight. And..."

He paused, carefully choosing his words. "Last weekend, the whole group went out, and Greta had a few drinks. She ended up falling asleep right on Leon's shoulder.

"Leon tried to gently move her away, but she started mumbling in her sleep, saying things like 'Don't go.' You know how Leon is, too nice for his own good. He sat there and did not budge."

My hand remained steady around my milk cup, but my expression shifted slightly. My lips tightened, and my gaze darkened for a moment. Then I quickly regained my composure.

All of it happened in less than two seconds, so fast that Miguel almost thought he had imagined it, but enough for him to notice.

"Emelia?" he called out to me tentatively.

"It's nothing," I said with a soft smile, my voice light as a breeze. "I think Greta really seems to like Leon."

Miguel suddenly looked anxious. "What about you? Aren't you into Leon?"

That was exactly what I wanted him to ask.

I went quiet for a moment, absentmindedly tracing the rim of my cup. Then I said softly, "Leon and I practically grew up side by side. Of course, what I feel for him is not the same as for anyone else.

"But it is his choice to make. Caring about him does not mean I should interfere with what he wants."

That was the trick. I never actually said I liked him, yet every word suggested the depth of my feelings for him.

When I said, "Caring about him does not mean I should interfere with what he wants," it sounded noble.

But in reality, it was a subtle way of saying that I was the one quietly giving, not competing or pushing, while Greta's actions were, in fact, interference.

Miguel took the bait, as I expected.

"Emelia, you are too kind," he said, frowning with a righteous look. "Don't worry. Leon knows what is going on. He and Greta are friends, nothing more. Don't overthink it."

I nodded and gave him a gentle smile. "Sure, I won't."

When I stepped out of the café, the sunlight was warm and golden.

I paused at the door and glanced down at my phone. Miguel had texted: [If you ever need anything, let me know. I've got your back.]

I deleted the message without replying.

It was not that I did not trust Miguel, but in this game, I could not leave any traces behind.

Every word had to sound harmless, and every move had to look unintentional. I could not make the first move, but only play defense, and with every passive moment, I could nudge things exactly where I wanted them to go.

That was the heart of the unattainable dream girl persona: always sweet, always innocent, and never making a fuss or fighting over anything.

In the end, I was always the one who won.

*****

At noon, Leon showed up right on time to take me out for lunch.

He picked the restaurant I loved most back in middle school and ordered glazed baby back ribs, fried catfish, meatloaf, and clam chowder. He ordered literally everything I used to crave.

"You actually remember what I like?" I asked, pretending to be surprised as I sat across from him.

"Come on." Leon put a rib on my plate. "I know your taste by heart. Back in middle school, you had glazed baby back ribs every single meal. The cafeteria ladies knew you by name because of that."

I laughed, lowered my head, and took a bite of the rib.

"Oh, by the way," Leon suddenly said. He sounded casual, as if he were talking about the weather. "Miguel texted you this morning, right?"

I glanced up at him.

"Yeah, we talked at a café for a while," I replied.

"What did he say to you?" Leon kept picking at his food, but I noticed his fork lingered over the fish a bit longer than usual. He was definitely nervous.

"Oh, nothing special," I said with a smile. "We reminisced, talking about our middle school years."

"Did he mention Greta?" Leon asked.

I paused for a moment and then nodded, a bit uncertain. "Yeah, he did. What's up?"

Leon set his fork down and looked at me. His expression suddenly turned serious. "If Miguel said anything out of line, ignore it. You know how he is. He can be a bit loose-lipped."

"He didn't say anything bad." I shook my head. "He only said Greta seems really close to you."

"Close? That's not really the case." Leon frowned. "She's got that personality, always warm with everyone. Don't—"

He hesitated, as if trying to figure out what to say.

"What?" I asked.

"Don't overthink it," he finally said, his voice going quiet. "It's nothing between her and me."

I looked at him and couldn't help but laugh.

"Leon, why are you explaining yourself?" I tilted my head, my voice teasing. "I'm not your girlfriend. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

That was my ace up my sleeve.

I tossed it out with a playful tone, but those words landed right in the feels.

The real message was clear. He didn't have to explain himself to me, but he did anyway. That meant he actually cared about what I thought. If he cared, I was definitely not some random girl in his life.

But those words hit him with a subtle, nagging guilt. He suddenly felt like he owed me something.

Exactly as I expected, Leon's expression changed.

His eyes darkened. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only picked up his fork and put another piece of fish on my plate.

"Eat your food," he said. His tone came out a little rough, but his ears were so red.

I ducked my head and started eating like a good girl, hiding the curve of my smile behind the rim of my bowl.

*****

That afternoon, Leon took me to school.

Nousiville Academy looked pretty much the same. The oak trees were taller than they were three years ago, and the buildings got a new paint job, but the layout was still the same.

When the teacher in the academic affairs office saw me, she said with a smile, "Emelia, you're back. Your transfer is all set. You can start classes tomorrow."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, giving her a polite bow.

When I walked out of the academic affairs office, Leon was waiting for me at the school gate, and there was someone else with him.

To be exact, that person wasn't standing there but was basically draped all over his arm.

Greta had somehow shown up, hanging onto Leon's arm. Her head tipped back as she laughed at whatever she was saying to him.

Leon looked pretty annoyed. He tried to pull his arm away, but Greta clung on even tighter.

But the moment he spotted me, he immediately used some more force and yanked his arm free.

"Emelia, is it all sorted?" he asked, sounding a lot more relaxed as he walked over to me.

"Yeah, I'll start classes tomorrow." I nodded, then glanced at Greta and smiled at her. "Greta, you came here, too."

"Yeah, I'm in Leon's class. I'm here to pick up a few things," she said with a grin, her eyes flicking between Leon and me. "You two came here together? You guys are really close."

It was another probing question.

Before I could answer, Leon said, "I brought her to take care of her transfer paperwork. Is there a problem?"

"Of course, no," Greta said, waving it off. "I was just saying. Leon, why are you so jumpy today?"

Leon ignored her and turned to me. "Let's go. I'll take you home."

"Leon, aren't you going back to school?" Greta called after him, hurrying to catch up. "We've got self-study this afternoon."

"Nope," Leon replied.

"Then I'm not going, either. I'll be with you," Greta said.

"Greta." Leon stopped in his tracks and turned to her, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. "Don't you have your own stuff to do today?"

Greta stood right there, totally caught off guard by his words.

Her face finally showed a real crack. It was not the fleeting awkwardness from before, but genuine, unmistakable embarrassment she couldn't hide.

"I..." She hesitated and then dropped her head, her voice going soft. "I only wanted to spend a little more time with you."

She finally showed her true intention.

She wasn't acting like his good buddy or being straightforward. She put her feelings out there, openly and with a hint of wounded pride.

Leon went quiet for a couple of seconds.

"Greta," he said, his tone a little gentler than before, but still keeping a clear line between them. "I've got things I need to take care of, and so do you. You can't tag along with me for everything."

Greta's eyes filled with tears.

She bit her lip and gave me a look. It was full of resentment, unwillingness to accept defeat, and the fierce, stubborn determination that said she wasn't about to give up.

Then she spun around and ran off.

I watched her vanish beneath the oak trees with not a hint of guilt in me. I was only quietly sizing up the situation.

She'd totally exposed her true feelings for Leon.

Once the whole "his good buddy" act cracked, there would be no patching it up.

Because if she was blushing, sulking, or tearing up in front of her so-called "buddy," there was no way she was taking him as her friend.

Leon was no fool. Even if he was not thinking about it right now, deep down, he would start to notice and get cautious.

Once Leon's guard was up, every little thing Greta did, no matter how innocent it seemed, he would start to see it differently, questioning her motives with every move.

"Is she alright?" I asked softly, with enough concern on my face.

"She'll be fine. She was acting like a kid," Leon said, rubbing his brow and looking tired. "Come on. I'll take you home."

He took a couple of steps, then suddenly stopped and turned back to me. "Emelia?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"You're not gonna be like her, right?" he asked.

I blinked, a little thrown. "Like her? What do you mean?"

"Well..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Like making me feel worn out."

I looked at him, gave it some real thought, and then shook my head.

"Never," I said softly. "I won't be the kind of person who wears you out."

He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes I couldn't quite put into words.

After a long moment, he reached out and touched my hair lightly, as if he was scared he'd mess up something precious.

"Let's go home," he said.

Those words from him meant more to me than any love confession.

To him, home meant wherever I was.

Greta was only someone from his school, nothing more.