Maybe me, maybe her

Maybe me, maybe her

  • WpView
    Reads 46
  • WpVote
    Votes 5
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
WpMetadataReadOngoing18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jul 31, 2025
Maybe Me, Maybe Her A coming-of-weird teenage love story. 15-year-old Emi always figured she was just a normal girl. Friends, school, whatever. And Nika-her best friend for the past two years-is just... Nika. Loud, funny, always wearing baggy hoodies, the kind of girl who makes people stop and stare, usually wondering if she's a boy. She's openly gay, unapologetically weird, and somehow the person Emi feels safest with. But what happens when "best friend" doesn't feel like the right word anymore? Set in a regular-ass Lithuanian school full of side-eyes, group chats, and hallway rumors, Maybe Me, Maybe Her is a slow, messy, heart-thumping ride through awkward touches, late-night texts, friendship drama, and the terrifying possibility that maybe you're not who you thought you were. It's not about coming out. It's about figuring in.
All Rights Reserved
#209
celos
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • My Obsession #2
  • Destined By Fate
  • What about us?
  • Truth or Dare ||Lesbian Story|| ||First Book||『EDITING』
  • My Hidden Love Will Never Die
  • New romantics
  • I just want you to want me too
  • Spring Feelings
  • 𝑅𝑈𝑁 (𝗚𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗫𝗚𝗶𝗿𝗹)

There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines