The Five-Year Rebound

On the eve of our college graduation, a few friends gathered to play Truth or Dare. I picked Dare and confessed my feelings to Logan in front of everyone. He picked Truth and said he used to love me. The very next day, Logan went public on Instagram. With our high school prom queen, Chloe. I left a single comment under his post: "Congratulations." For five years, I played the clown in the romance between Logan and Chloe. It was finally time for the curtain to fall. Yet when I went off the grid for a week and ran into Logan again, his eyes were bloodshot as he begged me not to shut him out. When I woke up and saw Logan's official announcement on Instagram, I thought I was still drunk from the night before. I dragged myself out of bed, drank a glass of warm water, and checked my phone again. Logan and Chloe’s beaming faces were right in the middle of the screen. I choked on my water, coughing hard enough to nearly drown myself. I had actually thought after last night, the dynamic between Logan and me would take a massive leap forward. Who knew that leap would land me straight into an open sewer. I commented on the post first: "Congratulations." Only then did I turn to the dozens of notifications that had buzzed me awake this morning. They were all check-in texts from the friends who had been drinking with us last night. I sent a blanket reply to the group chats: "I’m fine, still breathing." But to my middle school deskmate, Maya, I added: "Honestly, it’s sickening on a whole new level. Absolute trash." Logan had chased Chloe for five years and gotten rejected four times. The day high school ended, he played his acoustic guitar and sang a heartbreak ballad for her, only to get an "I’m sorry" in return. That night, I stayed with him at a karaoke lounge, singing sad love songs until dawn. Because of that, during our four years of college parties, I was basically unbeatable whenever we played music trivia. During winter break our sophomore year, he asked me to go to the beach to set off fireworks. It wasn't until I arrived that I learned he had bought them to confess to Chloe. Except Chloe never showed. He didn't want the fireworks to go to waste, so he called me out to watch instead. Hundreds of dollars' worth of fireworks exploded in the night sky, painting a chaotic, fleeting picture of his affection. I quietly prayed that Logan’s feelings for Chloe would dissolve into the dark, just like those fading sparks. Yet our junior year, he confessed to her again. Turned down once more, he wandered through a local park all night and ended up in the hospital the next day with a severe cold. When he called me, he didn't say a single word about getting rejected. He just said he wanted to share a bowl of the warm chicken soup from the diner by our old high school. Senior year, Logan took me to practically every boba shop in the city, asking which one was my absolute favorite. Then, on Chloe’s birthday, he bought out the boba shop near her campus, handing out free drinks to all her classmates. And all he got back was a polite "Thank you." This year, I confessed. He said he used to love me. He didn't even use the word "like." He said "love." And the very next day, he went public with someone else. Funny, isn't it? During these five years of relentlessly chasing Chloe, he fought, failed, and kept crawling back for more. Yet right before finally winning her over, he somehow found the time to love me for a second. After replying to my friends, I noticed he had messaged me directly. Maybe because he saw I hadn't responded to his reply on Instagram, he took the trouble to slide into my DMs. He thanked me for being there for him all these years and said he hoped I’d find someone I truly loved. Right. What a saint. A stray dog on the street could see who I was in love with, but he chose to play blind. I unpinned his chat, turned off my phone, and climbed back into bed to sleep.Lying there with my eyes closed, I remembered our last night at the karaoke lounge years ago, when he sang one final song and said it was for me. I remembered the moment the fireworks exploded, surrounded by gasps of awe from the crowd. Through all the noise, I only heard his quiet voice: "Riley, are the fireworks pretty?" I remembered the takeout pasta brought to the hospital, already half-cold, as he teased himself for being frail while spoon-feeding me. And how, just to ease my guilt over having a daily sweet drink, he turned down plans to jog laps around the track with me every evening. I never believed in that "more than friends, less than lovers" nonsense. The only reason I stayed tangled with Logan for so long was because I genuinely wanted to date him. Year after year, he confessed to Chloe, and time after time, I tried to give up. Only to be caught, bound, and pulled back in by his ambiguous, border-line romantic words and gestures. He never said he liked me, but he never pushed me away either. Yet every time I tried to take a step forward, the hand he rested on my shoulder would freeze. And he'd tell me: "I’ve always seen you as my best friend." When I woke up again, it was already evening. The takeout barbecue skewers my roommate brought back had gone cold on the desk, tough enough to crack a tooth. My phone was blowing up again with dozens of unread texts. Maya texted to say she did some digging and found out Logan and Chloe had gotten into the same grad school out of state. I had asked Logan before why he insisted on going so far away when there were great programs right here in the city. He told me he was tired of four years in the same place and wanted a change of scenery. I had no idea why he felt the need to hide it from me. If he had just told me upfront during applications that he was going for Chloe, I wouldn't have kept shamelessly hanging around him. And I definitely wouldn't have made that desperate, self-destructive confession out of fear of long-distance separation, creating this humiliating mess. "Blocked. What an absolute jerk," I muttered. I chewed on a piece of cold meat and washed it down with warm water, feeling like I had finally come back to life, venting to Maya over the phone: "If he wanted to keep me on the hook, did he really have to lie? It’s not like I didn't know he liked Chloe. If he wants to cross oceans for true love, what am I going to do, summon a hurricane to drag him back?" "And what was that 'I used to love you' crap? Is he worried that if Chloe dumps him one day, he won't have his backup crying towel around?" Hearing me rage, Maya casually dropped another bomb: "They’re flying out for their graduation trip today. Should be boarding right about now." I looked at the Instagram screenshot she sent, complete with the two boarding passes Chloe had posted. The destination was the exact same place Logan and I had agreed to go for our graduation trip six months ago. I had spent months researching that itinerary, memorizing which transit lines to take from the hotel to every single spot. Never did I imagine I was just doing all the prep work for someone else. I bit down hard on the food again. "If he dares use my itinerary, I’ll end him."The next day, Logan sent me a string of photos. The ocean, the sunset, hot pot, beach barbecues, bonfires, dancing. And photos of him and Chloe. The ocean was right outside the hotel I had picked. The sunset spot was the seaside diner I had mentioned a hundred times. The midnight seafood grill and late-night beach barbecue. The bright bonfire and their joyful, arm-in-arm dancing. He had followed my schedule to the minute, without changing a single detail. I looked through every single picture, sent back a passive-aggressive smiling emoji, powered off my phone, and went back to chatting with my roommates. We were all exhausted from rushing our final theses, so we had ordered fried chicken and gathered in the room to gossip and recharge. They asked how things were going with my "situationship." Everyone knew that out of 365 days a year, I spent 350 nights glued to my phone texting Logan. The other 15 nights were spent walking laps with him on the track. I said, "He went on his graduation trip with his girlfriend." The room fell dead silent, save for the crunch of chicken. I took a sip of beer and waved a hand. "No need to make it awkward. Out with the old, in with the new. Goodbye to him, and who knows, maybe the next one will actually treat me right." They exchanged glances, and the room burst into laughter. "That’s the spirit! I’ve been wanting to say this forever—that Logan guy always gave me weird vibes." "Seriously, what kind of decent guy strings a girl along for five years?" "Block him. Seriously, block him. Total waste of space, not worth your peace of mind." Riding the wave of their encouragement, I pulled myself together, determined to start fresh. The day I submitted my first thesis draft, Maya dragged me out under the excuse of "clearing my head," heading off for a weekend camping trip in the woods. When she shoved me and my duffel bag into the passenger seat of a black SUV, I hadn't even had time to conceal the dark circles from my sleepless night before locking eyes with Austin. Austin was a friend of Maya’s boyfriend. We’d crossed paths a few times at group hangouts and had always rubbed each other the wrong way. I thought he talked too much, gave petty, pointless comebacks, and loved to argue just for the sake of it. Maya, on the other hand, swore he was reliable and sweet. Supposedly a rare, top-tier guy, second only to her own boyfriend. I had my doubts and strongly condemned her for using the moment to humblebrag about her relationship. "Is Maya taking you to the woods to release you into the wild? Those dark circles make you look like a raccoon." I buckled my seatbelt, snapping back on instinct: "Yeah, well, getting a wild animal in your passenger seat is a rare privilege. Put it on your resume, might help you get a job." Instead of trading jabs like usual, Austin just gave a half-smile and tilted his head to look at me. It felt oddly unsettling, so I pulled out my phone to check my reflection. Aside from looking completely exhausted, there wasn't anything worth that smug little smirk of his. "Something on your mind?" I cut straight to the chase. "Heard you and Logan are done?" Ah. He was here to gloat."We were never together, so how could we be 'done'? At best, he just let go of the stretched rubber band early and let it snap back into my face." We hit an intersection. The rhythmic click of the left turn signal filled the silence before Austin spoke again. "Then cut the cord. A guy who just jerks you around with mixed signals isn't worth keeping around." "Besides, what was so great about him anyway? So he’s over six feet, has a silver tongue, and gets on the Dean's List every year—" "I'm still an inch taller than him." I didn't answer. If I had only liked Logan for superficial reasons like that, letting him go wouldn't have been this hard. Seeing my silence, Austin reached somewhere into the console and handed me a box of steam eye masks. "Put one on and get some sleep. You’re scaring me with those eyes. I’ll wake you when we get there." I stared at the label on the box: Camellia Scented. I remembered two weeks ago, on the drive back after a night out, I had casually mentioned to my roommate in the backseat that I loved the smell of camellias. On an impulse, I asked, "If I cut the cord, does that make you happy?" With one hand on the wheel while waiting at a red light, Austin turned to me, flashed a peace sign, and grinned openly. "I already brought the scissors for you. You tell me if I’m happy." I played it cool, tearing open an eye mask to hide the surprise in my eyes. "Tone down the smirk. Your smile’s about to reach your ears." Maya later told me that as soon as Austin heard Logan and I were through, he bought her boyfriend dinner three times just so they could set up this camping trip overnight. "You call this camping? Feels more like a double date to me," I muttered. Maya gave me an innocent, pleading smile, but I shoved her away by her face. "I thought you brought me out here to heal my broken heart." She immediately struck a pose like a self-proclaimed relationship guru. "The best way to get over an old flame is to jump into the arms of someone new." With that, she pulled a homemade sandwich from her bag. "Austin knew you skipped breakfast, so he made this for you—" "A loving breakfast from someone new." I looked toward Austin, who was pitching a tent not far away, and said flatly: "I don't need to use one guy to heal the damage left by another." Liking Logan had been a habit I carefully built over five years. Eating, drinking, sleeping—every second of the day, a corner of my mind was automatically reserved for him. Completely tearing out someone who had occupied my entire life was something only I could do for myself. "And besides—" I pushed the sandwich back. "Accepting someone else's advances before I’ve fully gotten over Logan just feels unfair to everyone." Maya stared at me, thought for a moment, nodded knowingly, and shoved the sandwich straight into my mouth. "I refuse to believe stepping in a piece of garbage like Logan is going to ruin your life forever." She still didn't give up. Over the three-day, two-night trip, Maya subtly tried to set Austin and me up at least twenty times. On the way back, terrified that I’d ride with them just to avoid Austin, she got up at the crack of dawn and sped off with her boyfriend. Leaving Austin and me to wake up in complete confusion. Like two kids abandoned on a deserted island by their parents. Over the past two days, Austin seemed to have realized I wasn't looking for anything, so he stayed quiet the whole drive back. It wasn't until he helped me unload my bags at the campus gate that he pointed behind me and asked coldly: "Do you owe that guy money?" He handed over my duffel bag. "Because his glare looks ready to kill." I turned around and saw Logan standing by the entrance, his eyes bloodshot, staring unblinkingly at Austin and me. "Yeah—" I tried to break the awkward tension from the car ride. "I owe him a million bucks. Want to pay it off for me?" Austin looked me up and down, then awkwardly looked away. "I only pay off debts for my girlfriend. Who are you to me?" "Then you can just come collect my corpse." Pretending not to catch his underlying meaning, I took my bag and turned to leave. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned against the car door, and called out casually: "Can't claim the body if I'm not family. Nothing I can do." I didn't dare look back, wanting nothing more than to run, but Logan called out to me: "Riley, where have you been? Your roommate said you went away for two days, and you weren't answering any texts." Logan took a few steps forward, his eyes lingering on my duffel bag before shifting suspiciously to Austin behind me. "And who is he?"