Jesci sat on the edge of the weathered picnic table, legs stretched out in front of him, taking in a rare quiet moment. The morning sun cast long shadows over the field, and for once, he was content to sit in silence, away from the noise and drama of everything around him. He glanced at his phone, scrolling past notifications that he had no interest in dealing with. His eyes lingered on the empty message thread with Leila, a small part of him hoping she might reach out first.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed Macy approaching until she sat down beside him. He didn't look at her, instead keeping his gaze on the distant trees. "What do you want, Macy?" he asked, his tone flat, already knowing she wouldn't take the hint to leave.

Unfazed, Macy leaned back, crossing her legs as she attempted casual conversation. "Just wanted to see how your night was," she replied, a forced lightness in her voice. "Did you get up to anything interesting?"

Jesci stayed silent, his focus drifting anywhere but on her. The tension between them had become familiar—a strained, tangled mess that neither of them seemed willing to address directly.

Sighing, Macy broke the silence again. "You never used to be like this with me, you know. We used to talk, actually be friends. Why can't we go back to that?"

Finally, Jesci turned to look at her, his expression cold. "You know why," he replied simply, his words carrying a weight that stopped her from pressing further.

Macy hesitated, searching his face for a moment. "I know you went out with someone last night," she said, her tone sharpening. "Dane told me."

Jesci chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Of course he did. Dane's always had loose lips."

She watched him carefully, a flicker of jealousy crossing her face. "Are you going to do to her what you did to me?"

Jesci's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. "That's different, Macy. What happened between us happened for a reason." He paused, looking away. "And it's over."

Macy crossed her arms, her voice taking on a bitter edge. "Maybe. But remember, Jesci, you're not exactly known for commitment."

He didn't respond, letting her words hang in the air as he returned his focus to the horizon. He had no interest in reliving the past, and whatever Macy thought she knew about him wasn't going to change the direction he was headed now.

As they sat in the thick silence, Jesci's eyes shifted, catching sight of Leila walking across the field. She stood out effortlessly, her dark hair falling softly around her shoulders, wearing his leather jacket like it was made for her. A small smile played at the corners of his lips as he stood up, his focus solely on her.

Macy, sensing his sudden change in demeanor, followed his gaze. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Leila, instantly recognizing the jacket draped around her shoulders—the same one she had wanted to borrow countless times. She clenched her jaw, hurt and anger flashing across her face.

"So, you'll let her wear your jacket?" Macy muttered, her voice tight with resentment. "Funny how that works. You never let me touch anything of yours."

Jesci's expression hardened slightly, but he didn't look at her. "Maybe because you never treated anything like it meant something."

Macy's face twisted in anger. "Right. And this one's different, I suppose? Just like all the others you've paraded around."

Jesci turned to face her, his eyes cold. "You don't know her. And you don't know me—not anymore." His tone was final, a clear line drawn between them.

With that, he stepped away from her, his entire focus on Leila as he began to walk toward her. Macy watched him go, her expression a mix of betrayal and frustration as he left her behind without another glance.

Macy sat back down, her gaze fixed on Jesci as he walked toward Leila. She couldn't ignore the gnawing ache in her stomach, the sharp pang of jealousy that twisted like a knife. She didn't understand why this girl was so different, why she got the attention, the soft smile, the affection Jesci had always withheld from her.

Once upon a time, she had been like that—young, naive, thinking the world of Jesci. When he'd entered her life, it felt like he was the best thing that ever happened to her, filling her days with a thrill she hadn't known she was missing. But Jesci had always kept his distance, only coming close when he wanted something from her, and never letting her in beyond the moments they shared.

Not once did he let her borrow his clothes, wrap herself in something that was his. He'd never given her the public attention she'd secretly craved, never given her anything she could hold on to. Whenever he acknowledged her, it was brief and intense, like a flash of lightning that left her both exhilarated and wanting more.

For the rest of the day, she'd walk around in a daze, intoxicated by the smallest scrap of his attention. Each fleeting encounter filled her with hope that things would change, that one day he'd open up to her the way she dreamed he would. But he never did, and now, watching him with Leila, she was forced to confront the truth.

As she watched Jesci and Leila from across the field, a part of her felt bitter, thinking, Why her? Why not me? But another part of her—the one that remembered how much she'd given of herself only to be left empty—knew that chasing him had only brought her pain. She could feel herself slipping into that same dangerous cycle, yearning for someone who had never truly been hers.

For now, though, all she could do was sit there, her heart heavy as she watched Jesci and Leila, trying to make sense of a connection that seemed so different from anything he'd ever shared with her.

Macy's reverie was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice. She looked up to see Wayde standing beside her, his gaze focused on the scene unfolding across the field. They watched in silence for a moment as Jesci approached Leila, his usual smirk softened by something Macy had once believed only she could bring out of him.

"Don't bother, Macy," Wayde said quietly, his tone laced with a tired resignation. "It's already begun, just like it did with you."

Macy's mouth tightened, but she kept her gaze fixed on Jesci. "I'm not sure this time," she murmured, almost to herself. "Jesci's never given anything to a girl before. Maybe he really is changing. Maybe this... thing with her is different."

Wayde scoffed, shaking his head. "You really think that? Macy, that jacket doesn't mean anything. It's just him upping his game, getting smarter about what works. He's making himself more believable, that's all. He's a true narcissist, through and through. He knows exactly what he's doing."

The weight of Wayde's words settled over her, pressing down on the small flicker of hope she had been holding onto. Macy wanted to believe that Jesci was capable of change, that maybe he was learning to care. But hearing Wayde's cold assessment brought her crashing back to reality.

"You know better than anyone, Macy. You've seen it yourself," Wayde continued, his voice softer but filled with a steady conviction. "How many times has he drawn you in, kept you close just long enough to make you think he felt something real?"

Macy swallowed, the memories washing over her with brutal clarity. There had been so many times she'd fallen for Jesci's carefully chosen words, for the way he looked at her when he needed something only she could give. It had felt like a game of give and take—except she'd given everything, and he'd only taken.

"Maybe I was a fool for sticking around," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I thought... I thought he'd eventually see me. Really see me."

Wayde sighed, his face softening as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You weren't a fool. You're not the only one he's drawn in. Jesci's got this way of making people feel like they're the only thing that matters, but it's all smoke and mirrors. He knows exactly how to get into people's heads."

A bitter smile tugged at Macy's lips. "And he's good at it, too."

Wayde nodded, his voice tinged with a sadness that matched her own. "Yeah. Too good. But he'll never give anyone what they're really looking for, Macy. Not you, not Leila, not anyone. He doesn't know how."

They stood together, united in a shared understanding that went deeper than words. Macy realized, perhaps for the first time, that Wayde saw through Jesci just as clearly as she did. He knew what it felt like to watch Jesci pull someone in, to watch them fall for an illusion they'd crafted around him.

"Look, Macy," Wayde continued, his voice steady. "You and I, we've both been there. But that doesn't mean we have to stay in his orbit, waiting for him to change. We deserve more than that."

Macy looked up at him, feeling a glimmer of relief in the midst of her pain. She hadn't known anyone else felt the same, that someone else understood the complexity of emotions Jesci stirred up. Wayde, in his quiet loyalty and quiet strength, had always been there, even when she hadn't noticed.