Chapter 4 My Friend or My Feelings

Dear Diary,

Jane is going to confess her feelings to Ethan today. What should I feel? Relief? Dread? Something in between? She's my best friend. She's been through so much. Doesn't she deserve to be happy?

But what about me? What about these letters that kept me afloat? What about the way my heart feels like it's running a race whenever he's near? What if-no, when-she tells him, and he feels the same?

I don't know what I'm going to do.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dewy grass as Abigail slipped out of the dorm. She couldn't sit still, couldn't breathe in that tiny room with her thoughts pressing in on all sides.

She had to find him.

The school grounds were quiet, students still tucked away in their rooms or lazily making their way to breakfast. But Ethan was already outside, as she'd guessed. He was by the field, the one near the garden, his head bent over a notepad. He walked slowly, pen moving in smooth strokes as if the world around him didn't exist.

Abigail's steps faltered as she watched him. There was a calm about him, a stillness she envied. She felt like a storm, ready to unravel.

"Ethan," she called softly, the wind catching her voice and carrying it to him.

He stopped, looking up. His face brightened for a moment when he saw her, but his smile faded as she got closer. "Abigail? Is everything okay?"

She nodded, then shook her head, then sighed. "I need to talk to you."

"Of course," he said, closing his notebook and tucking it under his arm. His gaze softened, concern flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Jane," she said, the name coming out heavier than she intended. She took a deep breath. "She's going to tell you how she feels today."

Ethan's expression changed. His shoulders tensed, and he looked past her, as if searching for an escape. "I... I thought she might."

"You knew?" Abigail asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "She's not exactly subtle, Abigail. I've seen it in the way she looks at me, the little things she says." He paused, his jaw tightening. "I just didn't know it would be today."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, stepping closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan hesitated, his eyes meeting hers. There was something raw there, something she wasn't sure she wanted to see. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't want to hurt her. She's been through so much, and she doesn't deserve to feel rejected."

Abigail crossed her arms, her heart pounding. "But?"

"But it's not her I think about when I write these," he said, holding up the notebook. His words were quiet but heavy, each one hitting her like a stone.

She stared at him, her breath catching. "Ethan..."

"I should have said something sooner," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I thought maybe if I stayed quiet, I wouldn't have to choose. But the truth is, I already know where my heart is. It's just... I don't know if it's fair to you. Or to her."

Abigail's throat tightened. She looked away, staring at the grass, at anything but him. "Jane is my best friend. She told me last night that life is too short to wait, that she's done holding back. She's going to tell you how she feels because she thinks it's her last chance."

"And what about you?" Ethan asked. His voice was soft, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.

She bit her lip, trying to keep her emotions in check. "What about me?"

"You act like her feelings are the only ones that matter." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "But what about yours? What about everything we've shared?"

Abigail's head snapped up, her eyes locking with his. "And what if I do feel something? What then? I can't just take that away from her. She's already lost so much, Ethan."

"And so have you," he said gently. "But you don't let anyone see that, do you?"

She blinked, startled by the vulnerability in his voice.

"I see you, Abigail," he said. "Even when you try to hide, I see you. And I..." He hesitated, looking down at the notebook in his hands. "I need you to know that this-whatever this is between us-it's real. At least, it is for me."

Abigail felt her heart splintering, torn between the weight of his words and the loyalty she felt for Jane. "I don't know what to do," she whispered.

Ethan reached out, his hand brushing hers for the briefest moment before pulling away. "You don't have to decide right now. But I think you already know how you feel. When you're ready, I'll be here."

She looked at him, her chest tight with unshed tears. "And what about Jane?"

He exhaled, his expression clouding with uncertainty. "I'll try to be honest with her. She deserves that much."

Abigail nodded, the storm inside her no closer to settling. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Ethan standing in the field.

Her thoughts swirled as she made her way back to the dorm. She didn't know what the rest of the day would bring, but one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same again.

The Confession

The morning sun painted the school courtyard in soft gold, the scent of blooming roses drifting through the crisp air. It was the perfect backdrop for a confession, though Jane's nerves made her chest tighten with every step she took. Abigail lingered behind, heart pounding as she watched her friend approach Ethan. She hadn't planned to follow, but the weight of what was about to unfold had drawn her like a moth to a flame.

Jane stopped beneath the sprawling oak tree at the edge of the garden, her fingers clutching the straps of her bag. Ethan stood with his back to her, his notebook in hand, scribbling away as if the world outside his poetry barely existed.

"Ethan," Jane called softly. Her voice carried an edge of vulnerability that made Ethan turn immediately, his face breaking into a warm smile.

"Jane," he said, closing his notebook. "Hey. What's up?"

Abigail bit her lip from her hidden spot nearby, her pulse racing. Jane's courage was palpable, her steps slow but deliberate as she moved closer. Abigail's heart sank with every inch that closed the gap between them.

"I wanted to talk to you," Jane began, her voice steadier now. "It's important."

Ethan tilted his head, curious but patient. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Jane took a deep breath, the memories flooding her mind in a rush. She remembered the first time she'd seen Ethan-a transfer student, walking into their history class with quiet confidence and a hint of mystery. Her heart had skipped then, and every kind word or small gesture from him since had felt like a sign, a spark waiting to ignite. Yet, she also remembered the way he sometimes looked at Abigail, his gaze lingering just a little too long. Those moments had stung, igniting an ember of jealousy she tried to push aside.

But now, after Andrew's death, she couldn't ignore her feelings any longer.

"Ethan," Jane said, her voice trembling. "Ever since you walked into our class last year, I've... I've felt something. I didn't understand it at first, but the more I got to know you-the way you see the world, the way you talk about poetry and music-I realized you're different. You're... special."

Ethan's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something more guarded. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jane pressed on.

"I've kept this to myself for so long, but after Andrew..." Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to steady herself. "I realized life is too short to hide how we feel. So, here I am, pouring my heart out to you. Ethan, I like you. I've liked you for a long time."

Abigail's breath hitched as she watched from her hiding spot, her fingers clutching the bark of a nearby tree. Jane's confession was raw and brave, and guilt coiled in Abigail's chest like a serpent. She felt like an intruder in this intimate moment, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Ethan's gaze softened, his shoulders slumping slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with what to say.

"Jane," he began carefully, his voice low and sincere. "You're... you're amazing. Truly. You're kind, talented, and one of the most incredible people I've met."

Jane's face lit up, hope blooming in her eyes like the roses surrounding them.

"But," Ethan continued, and that single word made Jane freeze. "I need to be honest with you."

Abigail's chest tightened as Ethan's words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.

"I admire you so much," Ethan said, his tone gentle but firm. "But I don't feel the same way. I wish I did-I really do-but my heart... it's with someone else."

Jane's face crumbled, her composure slipping as her lips parted in disbelief. "Someone else?" she whispered. "Who?"

Ethan hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the tree line where Abigail stood hidden. Abigail's heart sank. She knew what was coming, but she wasn't ready to face it.

"It's Abigail," Ethan admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was deafening. Jane took a step back, her face pale and her hands trembling. She looked between Ethan and the direction of his gaze, realization dawning like a storm cloud.

"Abigail?" Jane's voice was sharp, tinged with betrayal. "All this time, it was her?"

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but Jane shook her head, her expression hardening. "No," she said, her voice cracking. "I can't... I can't believe this. I thought we had something. I thought you cared."

"I do care," Ethan said quickly, his voice pleading. "You're my friend, Jane. I never wanted to hurt you."

Jane let out a bitter laugh, tears brimming in her eyes. "You didn't just hurt me, Ethan. You crushed me."

She turned on her heel and walked away, her steps quick and unsteady. Ethan made a move to follow her, but Abigail stepped out from her hiding spot, her face stricken with guilt.

"Don't," Abigail said quietly, her voice trembling. "Let her go."

Ethan turned to her; his eyes filled with anguish. "Abigail, I-"

"No," she interrupted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ethan, she's my best friend. I can't... I can't be the reason she's hurting like this."

Abigail's words hung in the air like a fragile thread, ready to snap. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Ethan standing alone beneath the oak tree, sad and confused.

The Strain on Friendship - Abigail's Perspective

The dorm room felt emptier now, even with Jane's belongings still in place. Abigail sat cross-legged on her bed, her journal open before her, but her pen hung motionless in her hand. Her thoughts swirled too chaotically to pin down. The walls that had once echoed with their shared laughter now pressed in on her, heavy with unspoken words and silences that cut sharper than any argument could.

"We are two universes in constant conflict," she wrote, her hand trembling. "I didn't ask Ethan to love me. I didn't ask for the poems, for his gaze to linger on me. And I certainly didn't ask for my heart to respond to his." The words on the page blurred as tears welled up. "But why does it feel like I'm being punished for something I never wanted in the first place?"

Jane had become distant, her warmth replaced by an icy politeness that Abigail couldn't break through. She wanted to blame the grief of losing Andrew or the stress of exams looming barely a month away, but deep down, she knew the truth. Jane felt betrayed-by Ethan, and by Abigail's silence.

"She thinks I stole him from her," Abigail whispered to herself, clutching the necklace that held her mother's wedding ring. "But how can you steal something that was never yours to begin with?" Still, the guilt pressed on her chest like a stone. Every time she tried to approach Jane, to find the words that could explain or soothe, she faltered. Jane's curt responses and distant gaze were walls she didn't know how to climb.

And yet, despite everything, she couldn't let go of Ethan. His presence in her life felt like a lifeline, something that was hers amidst the chaos. But every time she thought of him, Jane's face came to mind-the disappointment, the heartbreak, the coldness. "Why does the world always find a way to take everything from me?" Abigail thought bitterly.

Jane's Perspective

Jane stared at the piano keys, her fingers hovering but refusing to press down. The music that had once flowed so effortlessly now felt foreign, a language she no longer understood. She clenched her fists and let them fall into her lap, staring blankly at the instrument that had once been her solace.

She remembered the day Ethan walked into their classroom for the first time, his easy smile and quiet confidence drawing her in instantly. She had felt something then, a spark she was certain he must have felt too. Over the years, it was the way he spoke to her, so kind and attentive, that made her believe there was something special between them. She had built a fragile hope on every moment they shared, on every word he said that lingered in her heart.

But now, that hope felt like a cruel joke. "How could I have been so wrong?" she thought, her chest tightening with the sting of humiliation. Worse than losing Ethan to Abigail was the realization that Abigail had known-known how Jane felt and still stayed silent. "Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't she step aside?"

Jane's grief over Andrew's death had left a hollow space in her heart, one she had desperately tried to fill with Ethan's presence. And now, that void felt even larger, swallowing her whole. Abigail's betrayal burned most of all. The girl she had trusted, confided in, shared her dreams with-how could she keep such a secret?

Unable to face Abigail, Jane threw herself into her studies, not because she cared about exams, but because focusing on something, anything, was better than drowning in her thoughts. Yet, every time she glanced at her notes, the words blurred, replaced by images of Ethan and Abigail together, laughing, smiling-things she could never have.

Ethan's Perspective

Ethan sat beneath the old oak tree at the edge of the school's garden, his notebook open on his lap. The pen in his hand trembled as he tried to write, but the words wouldn't come. Poetry, which had always been his refuge, now felt hollow.

He couldn't stop replaying Jane's confession in his mind-the vulnerability in her voice, the courage it must have taken her to speak those words. And then his own response, his fumbling attempt to be honest without breaking her heart. But honesty had done just that, shattering something fragile between them.

"I should have told her sooner," Ethan muttered under his breath. "I should have been clear about how I felt. Maybe then none of this would've happened." But it was too late for maybes. Jane barely acknowledged him now, and when she did, her eyes were full of hurt he couldn't erase.

And then there was Abigail. Ethan's feelings for her were undeniable, but the weight of them now felt almost unbearable. He could see the guilt she carried, how it seemed to hollow her out bit by bit. Every time they spoke, her voice trembled with unspoken worries. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it wasn't her fault, but how could he? How could he ask her to carry the burden of Jane's heartbreak when she was already carrying so much of her own?

Ethan felt like the root of it all, the wedge driven between two people who had once been inseparable. He wanted to fix things, to repair the damage, but no matter how many scenarios he played out in his mind, none of them ended with all three of them whole again.

Together Yet Apart

They still crossed paths every day, their lives intertwined by the routines of school and the shared weight of exams, but the bond they once shared felt irrevocably fractured. Abigail carried the guilt of being loved by someone she didn't want to hurt. Jane bore the sting of rejection and the ache of trust betrayed. Ethan wrestled with the consequences of his own honesty, wondering if there had been a better way.

The silences between them were louder than words, a void none of them knew how to fill. They were three souls drifting apart, bound by memories of what once was and the unspoken fears of what could never be again.

The First Snow

The first snow of winter blanketed the school grounds, transforming the familiar landscape into a pristine, fragile world. Abigail sat at the edge of the dormitory steps, watching her breath cloud in the icy air. The week ahead loomed heavy on her mind, but today, there was something even more pressing: Ethan's invitation for the three of them to talk. She didn't know what to expect, but a part of her held onto hope.

Ethan stood in the courtyard, his back to the snow-covered garden where Jane often played her piano on warmer days. He seemed different today-nervous, unsure. Abigail approached him hesitantly, her footsteps crunching softly on the frost-coated path.

"Do you think this will work?" she asked, her voice trembling more from her unease than the cold.

Ethan glanced at her, his face thoughtful. "It has to," he said simply. "I can't stand seeing the two of you like this."

Jane arrived moments later, her expression guarded. Her coat was pulled tight around her, and her eyes darted between them with suspicion. She stopped a few feet away, arms crossed. "So, what is this about?"

Ethan gestured to a bench under a tree, its branches laced with snow. "Let's sit and talk. All of us. Please."

Reluctantly, Jane sat, but her body was tense, her jaw set. Ethan began, his voice soft but steady. "Jane, I know you're angry. And you have every right to be. But I didn't want things to stay like this. Not between us."

Jane's eyes flashed. "You didn't want things to stay like this? You mean after you decided to choose Abigail over me?" Her voice cracked, and she stood abruptly. "Do you even realize how much I've lost? My brother, my chance at love, and now my best friend!"

Abigail flinched, guilt washing over her. "Jane, please-"

"No!" Jane's voice rose, echoing in the quiet courtyard. "I don't want to hear it. You knew how I felt about Ethan. You knew, Abigail! And you still..." Her voice faltered as tears brimmed in her eyes.

Abigail stood, her own voice trembling. "Jane, I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for Ethan to write those notes or for my heart to feel the way it does." She hesitated, then pressed on. "Do you remember when you suspected Ethan was the one writing the notes? While you were away... I found out the truth. It was him, Jane. He wrote them. For me."

Jane froze, her breath hitching.

"And while you were gone," Abigail continued, "Ethan confessed his feelings to me. I didn't know what to do, Jane. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't. But I can't change what's in his heart or mine."

Ethan stepped forward; his voice gentle but firm. "Jane, you're one of the most incredible people I've ever met. You're beautiful, talented, and strong in ways I can't even describe. But loving you out of pity-out of guilt-wouldn't be fair to either of us. It would be a lie, and you deserve so much more than that."

Jane's tears finally spilled over. She shook her head, her voice a whisper. "Then what do I have left? Abigail has you, and I have nothing."

Ethan's eyes softened. "You have us, Jane. You have me as someone who cares about you deeply, and you have Abigail, who loves you like a sister. I will not be the thing that breaks your friendship. I couldn't live with myself if I caused that."

Abigail reached out, her voice cracking with emotion. "Jane, I don't want to lose you. I can't. You're my best friend, my family. Please, don't let this ruin everything we've been through together."

For a long moment, Jane didn't move. The snow fell softly around them, the silence heavy with unspoken words. Then, slowly, Jane lifted her tear-streaked face and looked at both of them.

"I hate this," she whispered. "I hate how much it hurts. But I can't lose you either, Abigail." Her voice broke again, and she looked at Ethan. "And I don't want to hate you, Ethan. I just... I need time."

Ethan nodded; his relief palpable. "Take all the time you need. We'll be here."

Abigail stepped closer; her arms open hesitantly. Jane hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the embrace. Ethan joined them, his arms wrapping around both girls, holding them close.

For the first time in weeks, the three of them stood together, united in their vulnerability and pain, their breath mingling in the cold air. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't resolved. But it was a start.

And as the snow continued to fall, blanketing them in its quiet purity, Abigail thought, Maybe the world hasn't taken everything from me after all.