You've been scrolling for the past hour, thumb hovering over the same post. The one Eddie Munson put up three hours ago.

A note. A private one. The kind that only your close friends can see.

i wonder if she knows she's the reason i can't sleep

Your heart does that stupid little flip it always does when you see his name pop up. When you read the words he wrote.

You've already typed and deleted three replies.

Below it, your own note from yesterday sits, untouched. The one you posted at 1 AM, drunk on courage and a little bit of stupidity.

wish someone would just say it to my face instead of hinting at it online

A notification pops up. Your thumb twitches.

chrissy.cunningham liked your note

And then, a second later:

chrissy.cunningham commented: so real girl 💕

You stare at the screen. The anger bubbles up, hot and familiar.

She didn't post anything like that tonight. She never does. But she's always there. Right under yours. Right under his.

Like she's waiting.