The girl next door 🥀

Juniper’s POV A childlike, breathy moan slipped through the wall, and I froze. My pen hovered mid-air above my notebook, ink bleeding into a tiny dot where I’d paused too long. For a second, I told myself I imagined it. That it was just my brain—fried from hours of studying and way too much caffeine. Then it came again, clearer, higher this time. Followed by a low, rough voice that sent a shiver down my spine before I could stop it. I squeezed my eyes shut. No. No, no, no. “Focus, Juniper,” I muttered under my breath, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose as I leaned closer to my textbook. The words blurred anyway. Numbers danced, sentences refused to make sense. Exams were in a few days, a few days, and yet… My grip tightened on my pen, the wall separating my room from his might as well have been paper at this point. Because I could hear everything, every muffled laugh, every breath, every shift of movement. And his voice, God, Nolan’s voice. His deep, lazy, unbothered tone, like he didn’t care who heard. Like he didn’t care that I was right here, just a door away. My chest rose and fell unevenly as I stared at the same line in my book for what felt like hours. I tried to read it again. Failed. A quiet whimper slipped through the wall, followed by a grunt that made my stomach twist in a way I didn’t want to think about. I dropped my pen. “Are you kidding me?” I whispered, dragging both hands down my face. Have you ever tried to study while your childhood best friend—your first love—is making out right next door with someone else? And somehow, your body reacts in a way that makes breathing harder for you, like heat pulling between your legs? Like you’re the one making out with him. My fingers curled against the edge of my desk. I hated this. Hated the way my heart sped up for the wrong reasons. Hated the way my thoughts drifted when they shouldn’t. Hated the way I could recognize his voice anywhere—blindfolded, half-asleep, across a crowded room… Or through a wall. Another low sound followed, his this time, and I pushed my chair back so fast it scraped loudly against the floor. “Enough,” I muttered, standing abruptly. The noise didn’t stop, if anything, it got worse. More careless, more intense. My jaw tightened. Of course, why would he care? It’s not like I was anything other than— I exhaled sharply, cutting off the thought before it could settle. But the truth lingered anyway, heavy and familiar. Juniper, the girl next door. Juniper, the best friend. Juniper, the almost. Always the almost, never the one. I walked toward my door, hesitating for only a second before yanking it open. The hallway light flickered faintly overhead, casting long shadows against the walls. His door was right there. I stood there, arms crossed, trying to gather whatever dignity I had left. Then, a sharp laugh, followed by a breath. His voice again. That was it. “Can you both pipe down a little bit?” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended. “I’m still in this house!” Silence, instant and thick. I blinked, suddenly aware of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. For a moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, they’d ignore me, pretend they didn’t hear. That would’ve been easier. But then, footsteps, approaching. My stomach dropped. The handle turned, and the door opened. I straightened instinctively, pushing my glasses up like that would somehow prepare me for whatever—or whoever—was about to walk out. I expected a stranger, some random girl. But instead it was Mabel. My stomach dropped. Her hair was slightly messy, lips flushed, expression far too calm for someone who had just… She leaned against the doorframe like she belonged there, like she had always belonged there. “You could’ve knocked, Juniper,” she said lightly. I stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her brow lifted slightly, amused. Behind her, I caught movement. Nolan stepped into view, and just like that, everything inside me shifted. He looked completely relaxed. Shirt half-buttoned, hair slightly messy, eyes still heavy with whatever had just happened. Our eyes met, for a second, something flickered in his. Then it was gone. “Juni,” he said, like he always did. “Relax, it’s not that loud.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not that loud?” I repeated. Mabel huffed softly, pushing off the doorframe. “I guess you wanted it to be you so bad.” My stomach tightened. “What?” I replied sharply, clearly shocked. My gaze flicking between the two of them. Was my cover finally blown? She knows? Nolan ran a hand through his hair, stepping fully into the hallway now. “Okay, okay. We’ll keep it down.” ‘We.’ The word hit harder than it should’ve. I folded my arms tighter. “Since when?” I asked before I could stop myself. His brows pulled together slightly. “Since when what?” “Since when have you been sneaking around with her?” I gestured vaguely between them. There was a pause. A brief, almost invisible hesitation, and that was all I needed. Mabel’s lips curved slightly, like she already knew something I didn’t. Nolan glanced at her, then back at me. “We’re not sneaking,” he said. I stared at him. “You’re not sneaking?” I repeated quietly. “That’s interesting.” His expression shifted slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I let out a breath, shaking my head. “Nothing,” I said. “It’s just funny.” “Funny how?” he pressed. I looked at him then, really looked at him. At the same boy who had spent weeks—months—sitting in my room, complaining about her. About how she left him for his douche-bag twin brother, Tristan. About how he was done for good this time. And now she was walking out of his room like she never left. And I hadn’t even known. Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. Nolan rubbed the back of his neck, already looking irritated. “Can you stop overreacting?” I let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I’m overreacting?” “Yes,” he said, sharper this time. “It’s my life, Juni. You don’t get to police what I do.” The words landed harder than they should’ve. “I’m not policing you,” I said, even though my voice didn’t sound as steady anymore. “I just—” I stopped myself, shaking my head. “You’ve been complaining about her for weeks. You said you were done.” “And I changed my mind,” he cut in. Just like that, like everything he’d said before meant nothing. I stared at him. “That’s it?” I asked quietly. “That’s all you have to say?” “What do you want from me?” he snapped, frustration finally bleeding through. “An announcement? A press release?” “No,” I said, my chest tightening. “Just… honesty, maybe.” “I don’t owe you that,” he shot back. That stung badly. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. “I didn’t say you owed me anything,” I said, softer now. “I just thought—” “What?” he challenged. “That you get a say in who I see?” I shook my head slowly. “No. I just thought I mattered enough for you to tell me.” He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You do matter, Juniper. But not like that.” ‘Not like that.’ I should’ve expected that, still, it hits harder than I was ready for. “And for the record,” he added, his voice colder now, more final, “Mabel is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Something inside me went very, very quiet. I blinked once, twice, waiting for it to feel like a joke. Like something he didn’t mean. But he didn’t take it back, didn’t even look like he regretted saying it. He just stood there, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. And maybe to him…it was. I nodded slowly, even though my throat felt tight. “Got it,” I said. “Good,” he replied, like we had finally come to an understanding. “And mind your business while at it, Juni.” I let out a small breath, stepping back toward my room. “Right,” I murmured. “My business.” He didn’t stop me this time, didn’t try to fix it. And that, more than anything, was what made it real. I closed the door quietly behind me, no slam, no drama. For a second, I stood there, staring at nothing, like if I didn’t move, it wouldn’t settle. Like it wouldn’t become real. My chest tightened, and before I could stop it, my vision blurred. “Seriously?” I let out a shaky breath, swiping quickly under my eyes. “I’m crying?” A soft, humorless laugh slipped out. “What am I, five?” Another tear slid down anyway. I wiped it again, a little harder this time. “I’m not a baby anymore,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Why am I crying like I just lost my favorite candy or something?” But it didn’t stop, because it wasn’t about candy, it was about years. Years of sitting next to him, laughing with him. Listening to him talk about other girls, especially her, like I was just… there. And I let myself be there. I pressed my lips together, blinking rapidly, trying to force it back. “Stop,” I whispered. “Just stop.” My hands dropped to my sides, fingers curling slightly as I took a slow breath. It still hurts, of course it did. I wasn’t made of stone, no matter how much I tried to act like it. I walked toward my desk, each step feeling heavier than it should’ve, and sank into my chair. His last words echoed in my head again . I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Yeah, that one did damage. I let out a breath, slower this time. “Okay,” I whispered, more to myself than anything. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it had always been heading here, and I was just the last one to admit it. I let my fingers trace the edge of the desk, grounding myself. When people keep choosing someone else over you…when they keep going back…It’s probably a sign you shouldn’t still be there waiting when they return. I straightened slightly, pushing my glasses up again, even though they hadn’t moved. “Time to move on, Juniper,” I said quietly.