If Only (GxG)

Chapter 38 Present and Future

『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV

I'd mastered the art of pretending Gregory didn't exist.

I ducked into classrooms early, kept my head down in the halls, and made a point of walking on the far side of the corridor whenever I caught the flash of his stupid, smug smile. It wasn't subtle. I knew he noticed. But thankfully, he hadn't tried anything beyond a weird half-wave and a too-cheerful "Hey, Ali!" like we were mates again now.

We weren't.

Amy had stared daggers at him when I told her what happened, and Ross—who usually found something funny in everything—had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Protective in that big-brother way he pulled out when he thought I wouldn't handle something on my own. Which, fine. I didn't mind. Not when Gregory had been acting like I was the one who'd done something wrong.

"He's such a freak," Amy whispered one afternoon as we crossed the courtyard toward our next class. "Honestly, I'm this close to 'accidentally' spilling a drink on him."

"I'm starting to think you two might love me a little too much," I teased, nudging her shoulder.

Amy scoffed. "You're lucky we're even letting you out of our sight."

Ross popped up beside us, sliding his sunglasses dramatically onto his face despite the fact that we were indoors five minutes later. "I'm planning a public shaming. Possibly a sonnet. Haven't decided yet."

I laughed. "A Gregory-themed sonnet?"

"With historical references," Ross nodded solemnly. "Maybe a plague metaphor."

Despite the weird tension lingering under the surface of the week, it felt good to laugh. Good to lean into the chaos of them, to feel the comfort of friends who knew every version of me—even the messed-up, sleep-deprived, spiral-prone ones—and stayed anyway.

We ended up sprawled on the grass near the back pitch later that afternoon. Amy had disappeared for a club meeting, and I was curled beside Ross, our bags forming a makeshift barricade against the wind. I was sketching something vaguely flower-shaped in the corner of my notebook. Ross was pretending not to look at his phone.

"You're unusually chipper for someone who's usually dead inside by this point in the week," I teased.

He snorted. "That's because you're sitting here and not setting the biology lab on fire."

"Rude."

"Truthful."

We passed my water bottle back and forth while he told me about the bizarre protein bar someone had left in his locker and speculated whether it was a bribe, a threat, or both. I was just starting to laugh when he sighed, long and quiet, and leaned his head back against the wall.

"What's up?" I asked, nudging his shoulder.

"I broke up with my girlfriend," he said, a little too flatly.

My face softened. "Shit. Ross, I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It was time. Just... didn't feel right anymore."

Before I could respond, Jessica—yes, that Jessica—walked by with two of her friends, hair glossy, laugh too loud, eyes flicking over us like we were something she'd scrape off her shoe. She muttered something under her breath, and they all snorted with fake amusement.

I turned, gave her a slow, deliberate once-over, and said loud enough for the whole corridor to hear, "Still trying to stay relevant, Jess?"

She faltered mid-step, head snapping around to glare at me, all tight smile and narrowed eyes. "Still clinging to other people's breakups for attention, Greystone?"