Amy's hurtful words cut deep, but I couldn't see,
That love would find us, no matter how hard it seemed to be.
Amy sat in her room, her hands gripping the edges of her desk as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. Her reflection flickered in the darkened screen—a face twisted in frustration, lips pressed into a thin line. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Paxton had always been her bestfriend, her confidant, the one person who saw her, truly saw her. And now, it felt like he was slipping away, piece by piece, all because of Joanne.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Joanne didn't even have to try. That was the infuriating part. With her shy smiles, soft voice, and the way she carried herself like she didn't even know the effect she had on people, Joanne effortlessly stole the attention Amy had worked so hard to earn.
It wasn't fair.
Amy's thoughts spiraled, memories flooding her mind. Every time she had tried to get Paxton to focus on something important—family plans, her achievements, even her struggles—he would always find a way to steer the conversation back to Joanne. It was as if Amy didn't exist when Joanne was in the picture.
And now, things were worse. Joanne wasn't just stealing Paxton's attention. She was stealing Paxton.
Amy's resentment simmered as she watched the growing connection between Paxton and Joanne. She couldn't stand it. The laughter they shared, the lingering looks, the way Paxton lit up whenever Joanne was around—it was all too much.
So, she decided to act.
The first opportunity came during lunch the next day. Amy spotted Paxton sitting with his friends, Joanne among them, her quiet laughter blending into the group's chatter. Taking a deep breath, Amy plastered a smile on her face and approached the table.
"Hey, Paxton," she said, her tone cheerful. "Can I borrow you for a sec? It's about that thing we talked about yesterday."
Paxton looked up, a little confused. "What thing?"
Amy's smile faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. "You know, the family stuff. It's kind of important."
Joanne glanced at Paxton, her expression concerned. "You should go. It sounds serious."
Amy's stomach twisted at Joanne's sweet, understanding tone. Of course, she's perfect.
Paxton nodded and stood, following Amy to a quieter corner of the cafeteria. As soon as they were out of earshot, Amy turned to him, her expression serious.
"Listen, Pax," she began, her voice low. "I just... I'm worried about you. About Joanne."
Paxton frowned. "What do you mean?"
Amy hesitated, carefully crafting her words. "I just think you're putting too much energy into this... thing with her. I mean, don't you think she's a little... distant? Like, maybe she's not as into this as you are."
Paxton's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? Joanne's not distant. If anything, I feel like I'm the one who's been messing up."
Amy sighed, feigning concern. "I don't know, Pax. I've just seen the way she talks to other guys, you know? Like, maybe she's keeping her options open."
Paxton's face darkened. "That's not Joanne. She wouldn't do that."
Amy shrugged, playing the role of the reluctant messenger. "Maybe I'm wrong. I just thought you should know what I've noticed. I don't want you to get hurt."
Paxton said nothing, his jaw tightening as he processed her words. Amy could see the seeds of doubt beginning to take root, and she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.
The conversation with Amy left Paxton unsettled. Her words replayed in his mind throughout the day, planting questions he didn't want to ask. Could Joanne really be keeping her options open? Was he imagining the connection they shared?
He hated the doubt, hated how it made him second-guess every interaction with Joanne. But he couldn't shake it.
That evening, as he sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he came across a photo of Joanne and another guy—just a casual group photo from a school event, but the sight of her laughing next to someone else made his stomach churn.
"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered to himself. But Amy's words lingered.
Meanwhile, Amy reveled in the small victories of her sabotage. She could see the cracks forming in Paxton's confidence, the way he hesitated around Joanne now, unsure of himself. It wasn't enough to drive them apart completely, but it was a start.
But her satisfaction was short-lived. That evening, as she sat alone in her room, the weight of her actions began to press down on her. She opened her journal, a place she rarely shared with anyone, and began to write.
"It's not like I hate Joanne. I don't. She's... fine. But why does she get to have everything? She doesn't even try, and people flock to her. It's not fair. I work so hard to be noticed, to be appreciated, and all anyone ever sees is her. Even Pax. Especially Pax."
Amy's pen hesitated, her thoughts swirling.
"Maybe it's not Joanne's fault. Maybe it's mine. But I can't lose Pax. He's the one person who's always been there for me. If I lose him to her, then what do I have left?"
Tears blurred her vision as she closed the journal, her bitterness momentarily giving way to loneliness. She didn't want to admit it, but deep down, she knew her actions were driven by fear—fear of being forgotten, of being replaced.
Joanne couldn't ignore the shift in Paxton's behavior. He was quieter around her, his usual warmth replaced by hesitation. At first, she thought it was her fault—that maybe she had done something to push him away. But as the days went on, she began to suspect there was more to it.
Amy's presence loomed in the background, her subtle jabs and pointed comments becoming harder to ignore. Joanne didn't want to believe that Amy was behind Paxton's change, but the pieces were starting to fit together.
One afternoon, Joanne found herself confiding in Emily, her best friend. They sat on a bench in the school courtyard, the sun casting long shadows on the ground.
"Do you think Amy has something to do with it?" Joanne asked, her voice uncertain.
Emily frowned. "I wouldn't put it past her. She's always been a little... territorial when it comes to Paxton."
Joanne sighed. "I just don't know what to do. I don't want to come between them, but I can't keep pretending everything's fine."
Emily placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to pretend, Jo. If Paxton really cares about you, he'll figure out the truth on his own. And if he doesn't... maybe he's not the one for you."
Joanne nodded, though the thought of losing Paxton still weighed heavily on her heart.
Despite Amy's best efforts, Paxton couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was off. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much of his doubt stemmed from Amy's comments. He began to notice the way she always seemed to insert herself into his conversations with Joanne, the way she subtly steered him away from her.
One evening, as they sat in the living room, Paxton decided to confront her.
"Amy," he said, his tone serious, "why do you keep bringing up Joanne?"
Amy froze, her hand tightening around the TV remote. "What do you mean?"
"You're always saying things to make me doubt her," Paxton continued. "Why? What's your problem with her?"
Amy's face flushed. "I don't have a problem with her. I'm just looking out for you."
"Are you?" Paxton asked, his voice rising. "Because it doesn't feel like it. It feels like you're trying to make me doubt her for no reason."
Amy's eyes filled with tears, but Paxton wasn't sure if they were genuine or another manipulation. "I'm just trying to protect you, Pax. I don't want to see you get hurt."
"Protect me from what?" Paxton demanded. "Joanne's done nothing but care about me, and I've been too stupid to see it because I've been listening to you."
Amy stood abruptly, her hands trembling. "You don't get it, do you? You're so focused on her that you don't even see what's happening around you. You've been ignoring me for weeks, Pax. All you care about is Joanne."
Paxton stared at her, realization dawning. "This isn't about me. This is about you. You're jealous."
Amy's face crumpled, and she fled the room without another word. Paxton sank back onto the couch, his heart heavy with guilt and frustration. He had been blind to the truth for too long, and now, he didn't know if it was too late to fix things with Joanne.
The next day, Paxton approached Joanne in the library, his heart pounding in his chest. She looked up from her book, her expression wary but curious.
"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice soft.
Joanne nodded, closing her book. "Sure."
Paxton sat down across from her, his hands fidgeting nervously. "I owe you an apology. I've been... distant. And it's because I let Amy get into my head. I shouldn't have listened to her."
Joanne's eyes softened, though a trace of hurt remained. "Why did you?"
Paxton sighed. "I don't know. I guess I thought she was trying to help, but I see now that she wasn't. She was just... she was dealing with her own stuff, and I let it affect us."
Joanne nodded slowly. "I appreciate the apology, Paxton. But trust is hard to rebuild. I need to know that you won't let this happen again."
"I promise," Paxton said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."
Joanne offered a small smile, and for the first time in weeks, Paxton felt a glimmer of hope. But he knew that repairing their relationship would take more than words—it would take time, patience, and a commitment to being better.