It was horrible—the feeling of being betrayed by someone you trusted with your whole heart. If someone had told me just a week ago—not even two years ago—that I shouldn't get into a relationship with my boyfriend because he'd break my heart, I would've laughed in their face. I would've said, "Stop the cap. The Taylor I know would never hurt me. Not even if his life depended on it."
But just like some cruel joke, I was proven wrong. Wrong by the one and only boy I ever truly loved. My first love. My best friend.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you how it all started...
---
"Em, come here!" Rose waved me over with that mischievous grin she always wore when she was up to something. And trust me, one of her favorite missions was trying to get me and Taylor together. Some things never change.
"Look over there," she said, pointing past my shoulder.
I turned—and there he was. Taylor.
Now, don't get me wrong—we saw each other practically every day, every weekend too. But ever since Rose started making her intentions very obvious, things had gotten... awkward.
Taylor made eye contact with us and started walking over.
"Oh—speak of the devil," Rose whispered, then immediately stepped aside like she was trying to disappear.
"Rose!" I called after her.
"What? I have somewhere to be!" she shouted, already halfway down the hall.
Classic.
"Hey, Em," Taylor said with a soft smile as he approached.
"Hey, Tay. What's up?"
Act cool, Emmy. Cool.
"So," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, "the Valentine's Dance is coming up… are you going with anyone?"
My heart stopped. "No, I'm not. Why do you ask?"
Oh my god—is he finally going to ask me out?
He looked down, then back up at me with those familiar eyes. "I was wondering if you'd want to go... with me. You know—as more than friends?"
"Oh my god—YES!" I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck.
"YES!"
Across the hall, Rose screamed louder than necessary.
"I thought you had somewhere to be?" I shouted at her through my laughter.
"I lied, okay? I just wanted to give you two a moment. A long overdue moment!"
Taylor and I both laughed.
"Alright, alright," I said, smiling up at him. "Let's get to class before we get detention."
As soon as the final bell rang, we practically ran out of the classroom like our lives depended on it.
"Ugh, finally!" I groaned, slumping against my locker. "If I had to find one more value of X, I was going to write a break-up letter to math."
Rose laughed, flipping her braids over her shoulder. "Girl, I already ghosted math. It keeps texting me with equations, but I left it on read."
I cracked up. "Same! At this point, X can stay lost. I'm not going on a manhunt."
Just then, Rose elbowed me. "Heads up. Incoming: Tall, cute, and clueless."
I followed her gaze and saw Taylor walking toward us, his backpack slung over one shoulder, flashing that casual grin he always wears like it's part of his uniform.
"Hey, Em. Hey, Rose," he said, stopping in front of us. "Y'all look like you just escaped a burning building."
"Close," Rose replied. "We just survived algebra."
Taylor chuckled. "Brutal, huh?"
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Taylor, if I hear the word 'quadratic' one more time, I'm starting a rebellion."
"Duly noted," he said, smirking. "I'll make sure to cancel my plans to become a math teacher."
"Thank God," I said. "The world is safe again."
We started walking toward the front gates, the sun barely peeking through a sea of gray clouds like even the sky was tired of school.
"So," Taylor said, glancing at me, "you two are serving Algebra so far, or should I start planning your escape route?"
"Oh, we've already planned one," Rose said, winking. "It involves fake identities, a remote island, and zero math homework."
"Count me in," he laughed. "But only if there's pizza on that island."
"There's pizza, but you have to share," I said, side-eyeing him. "No hogging the pepperoni like last time."
Taylor raised his hands in defense. "Hey, I have a fast metabolism!"
"Fast metabolism, my foot," Rose muttered. "You eat like a vacuum and still manage to look like a walking sports ad. It's not fair."
I snorted. "Don't boost his ego. It's already tall enough."
Taylor grinned, nudging me with his shoulder. "You checking me out again, Em?"
My cheeks instantly warmed. "Don't flatter yourself, Jackson. I was just trying to figure out what kind of human eats cafeteria tacos and lives to tell the tale."
"Ouch," he said, pretending to clutch his heart. "You wound me."
Rose grinned like she was watching a rom-com unfold in real life. "This is better than Netflix."
"Okay, okay, can we just walk home before Rose starts narrating our love lives like a gossip blog?" I said, shooting her a look.
"Too late," she said, pulling out her phone. "Episode one: Emmy and Taylor—will they or won't they?"
I rolled my eyes, but even I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. Maybe Rose was right… Maybe something was starting to spark.
As we continued down the block, our feet falling into a familiar rhythm, we passed the old park on Maple—the one that held years of childhood memories. The swing set creaked in the wind, and the cracked pavement still bore the faint chalk outlines of hopscotch from summers past.
Taylor pointed to the dented slide and laughed. "Still can't believe I tried to skateboard down that thing."
Rose gasped dramatically. "You mean the time Emmy screamed so loud the whole neighborhood thought someone got kidnapped?"
I groaned. "I was ten and bleeding, okay? And someone promised to be my forever bodyguard after that."
Taylor placed a hand on his chest. "And haven't I done a pretty decent job?"
I shot him a sideways glance. "Debatable."
Rose elbowed me with a smirk, but before she could say anything else, I clapped my hands once. "Alright, gentlemen, this is our stop."
Taylor frowned. "Wait—aren't we hanging out tonight? Movie marathon, junk food, me winning at Mario Kart?"
"Yeah, not this time," I said, tossing him an apologetic look. "We've got to be up early. Tomorrow is mission: mall. Dress, shoes, nails—the works."
Rose added with flair, "It's prep day, Taylor. You think looking this good for a dance just happens?"
"Ugh," he groaned. "So this is how it feels to be abandoned."
"Don't be dramatic," I laughed. "You'll survive one night without us."
Taylor shrugged but gave me a little smirk. "Fine, but don't be surprised if I crash the food court tomorrow. Someone has to keep you from spending all your money on glitter."
"Try it, and I'm making you hold my shopping bags," I threatened playfully.
"Deal."
Rose leaned in toward me and whispered, "He's totally going to 'accidentally' show up."
I nudged her with a grin, and we both called out, "Night, Jackson!"
Taylor lingered for a moment, hands in his hoodie pocket, watching us go with that same unreadable look.
And maybe… just maybe… I kind of hoped he would "accidentally" show up.
The Next Morning – Mall Madness
"Remind me why we thought coming to the mall at 9 a.m. was a good idea?" I groaned, dragging my feet through the automatic doors like a zombie.
"Because," Rose said, already alert and fabulous, "the early bird gets the perfect dress before the fashion vultures do."
The mall was just waking up, shop gates clattering open and the smell of overpriced cinnamon rolls drifting through the air. Rose had a checklist and a vision. I had mild anxiety and a half-functioning brain.
"Okay, first stop: Sparkle & Stitch," Rose announced. "We need dresses that say 'we're hot but unbothered.'"
As we stepped into the store, my eyes scanned the racks, wondering if anything could make me look like the confident, unbothered girl I pretended to be. Rose was already pulling out options like a fashion tornado.
"This one's perfect for your hair," she said, holding up a midnight blue dress. "And this one screams 'dance floor goddess.' Try them both."
"I swear, you missed your calling as a stylist," I said, taking the hangers.
"I know," she replied dramatically. "I'm the fairy godmother every awkward teen needs."
As I slipped into a dressing room, my phone buzzed. A text from Taylor.
TAYLOR:
So, how's Mission Mall going? Are you drowning in glitter yet?
ME:
We're knee-deep in sequins and bad lighting. Pray for us.
TAYLOR:
I'm five minutes away.
My heart did a full somersault.
"Rose!" I hissed through the curtain. "He's coming."
She poked her head in, eyes wide with delight. "He what?!"
"He's coming here. Now."
Rose squealed. "Girl, you better put on that blue dress right now. If he's crashing mall day, he's getting a show."
By the time I stepped out of the dressing room, Taylor was already walking into the store, hoodie half-zipped, hands in his pockets. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me.
"Whoa," he said.
Rose raised an eyebrow and muttered, "That's boy-code for 'I'm speechless.'"
I felt my face heat up. "You said you weren't coming."
"I lied," Taylor shrugged, smiling. "Couldn't resist the chance to critique your fashion choices. Or maybe just see you in a sparkly dress."
"Smooth," I muttered, trying not to smile.
As I twirled under Rose's instruction, I caught Taylor watching me, not like a best friend watching, but like someone noticing something for the first time.
And in that moment, as the music in the store played faintly in the background, I felt the first real spark of maybe again.
Later That Week — The Countdown to Sunday
The mall day had left me buzzing with a mix of nerves and something like hope. Taylor showing up unexpectedly? But now, with the dance coming up on Sunday, everything felt… electric.
"Only three more days until the dance," Rose reminded me, tapping her phone like a drill sergeant. "We've got dresses, shoes, hair, makeup — and of course, the ultimate playlist."
I laughed. "You're making this sound like a mission to save the world."
"Well, when it comes to surviving high school social events, it kind of is."
Taylor texted again that night:
TAYLOR:
Ready for Sunday?
I stared at the screen, fingers hovering.
ME:
As ready as I'll ever be.
Sunday wasn't just any dance. It was the night when everything could change — or nothing could.