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After that conversation with Maddie, things really did get... strange.
They didn’t just stop being enemies — Emma actually started laughing with her. Genuinely. And it scared her.
No, she hadn’t forgotten who Maddie was — the same bitch who’d stirred up those nasty nicknames. But now, when Dan watched them with that confused, almost lost expression, every smile she shared with Maddie, every joke she played along with felt justified. Just to spite him.
Emma let herself flirt with the friendship — leaning a little closer to Maddie, whispering more often, even laughing loudly on purpose whenever Dan was nearby. And Maddie... she played along too. Sure, there was still envy behind her perfect smile. Now Emma had outshined her, becoming the one everyone looked at. But Maddie knew how to play the game and kept her mask on.
Dan, though...
At first, he was angry, trying to convince her she was "confused." He said the jester was messing with her mind, that she wasn’t herself anymore. He thought Emma was just playing some game. He kept trying to talk to her, to bring her back to that "real Emma." But with every cold, calm reply — "I’m fine, Dan" — he lost his footing.
And then... he changed completely.
He became a shadow. Always there, but no longer the confident guy she once knew. Now he looked lost. Watching her with wide, admiring eyes every time he saw her. Always trying to stay close, like some... loyal puppy?
And strangely enough, it no longer gave Emma any satisfaction.
Especially in those moments when Jessica crossed her mind. When she was alone — no mask, no armor. Just her and the phone screen, staring at that blinking message:
" We were best friends..."
She felt a lump rising in her throat, something heavy pressing in her chest. Stupid. So damn stupid.
But then came the flashes. Vivid, painfully familiar memories.
The warm breeze, the scent of lilacs, the cigarette burning her throat. Emma sitting on the porch, head down, hand clamped over her mouth to stifle the cough. And then that voice. Soft but steady:
— Em, you’re smoking? Your mom will kill you.
Jessica. Thin eyebrows, a pink dress, a soda bottle in hand. She’d stepped closer, scrunching her nose at the smell of smoke, but there was no judgment in her voice — just concern.
Emma had snapped back then:
— Let her! She doesn’t care. All she cares about is me doing what she wants
Jessica hadn’t left. She’d just sat beside her. Quietly. No lectures, no guilt-tripping. She’d just been there.
Or that day at the museum. Jessica giggling beside her, nudging her playfully, barely holding back laughter.
— He’s cool, isn’t he? — Her voice practically sparkled with excitement.
— Who? — Emma had jerked back, too fast, trying to hide her embarrassment. But Jessica had only grinned wider, already knowing the truth.
— Oh, come on, you think I don’t notice? — That same teasing, harmless grin and at the end of that conversation, just like always, she said it in her signature way, emphasizing exactly what Emma didn’t want to admit back then. — Whatever you say, Miss “I’m Not Blushing,”
And Emma remembered how her cheeks had burned, how she’d turned away, muttering something incoherent.
She remembered hiding in the bathroom together from Maddie’s stupid gossip. Jessica whispering:
— Emm, want me to tell them you’re a witch who can curse people? Maybe they’ll shut up.
"You were always like that..." Emma exhaled shakily, the ache behind her eyes growing sharper. Her vision blurred as tears welled up, stubborn and stinging. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to swallow the knot tightening in her chest.
Jessica had always been there.
Even when she’d been on the edge. When that damn mirror had shown her things she was too scared to admit. Hell, Jessica had gone with her to that mirror more than once.
She never judged.
And now, it hurt.
Emma’s fingers trembled as she typed out a message:
"Jess... I’m sorry for how I treated you. I really am. Please... Can we talk?"
Her finger hovered over the send button, and Emma felt it again — that crushing pressure inside.
"Why the hell am I apologizing? I wasn’t the one in the wrong! She’s the one who pushed, who wouldn’t back off. Who joked like it was all just... stupid nonsense. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how hard this has been!"
Her hand shook.
But then, something else hit her — something hotter, sharper. The burning sting of shame.
"No. You know you were cruel. You snapped at her when all she was trying to do was help. She had no way of understanding what it feels like to lose yourself completely. She was just... trying to be there. Even with her dumb jokes."
A shaky breath.
"She stayed. When you acted like a total idiot. When you tried to prove you weren’t Emma. When you stormed out of school in a meltdown. Even then... she stayed. Jessica was the only one who did."
Emma squeezed the phone tighter, like it could somehow hold back the tangled mess building inside her — the guilt, the pride, the anger... at herself. At Jessica.
"You just want me to be okay... right, Jess?"
Her finger hovered again.
"But what if she... No. Enough."
Click.
Sent.