I Blocked My Childhood Friend Chapter 2

Because Eden never bothered to clear the air, rumors about her and Declan began to spread like wildfire across campus.

In every version of the story, I was naturally cast as the pathetic collateral damage—the desperate orbiter who couldn't take a hint and wouldn't leave Eden alone.

While walking across the quad later that week, I predictably bumped into the two of them.

Declan was the first to speak, practically dripping with forced innocence. "Jude, please don't misunderstand Eden. I lost my ID and needed to go to the DMV to get a new one. She was heading that way, so she just gave me a ride."

I gave a vague, noncommittal hum, wanting nothing more than to put as much physical distance between us as possible.

But Eden suddenly grabbed my arm. "You blocked my number?" she demanded softly.

I had blocked her the night of my birthday, almost a full week ago. It had taken her this long to even notice.

I gave her a lazy excuse. "My account got hacked."

She exhaled a breath of relief, but her expression quickly shifted to worry. "Do you have enough money then?" Without waiting for an answer, she shoved a sleek black credit card into my palm. "The pin is your birthday."

At the word "birthday", the color completely drained from Eden’s face.

I watched her lips part as realization hit her, but I just pressed my mouth into a thin line. I really didn't want to ask.

Looking intensely frustrated with herself, Eden pulled out her phone and started canceling all her afternoon meetings.

Declan panicked. "Aren't you supposed to be pitching to investors today? How can you throw away an opportunity like that over something so trivial?"

Eden ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed quietly on me.

My heart did that pathetic, habitual stutter. Even though every shred of logic in my brain was screaming, "Jude, you cannot keep loving her", the moment she opened her mouth, my rationality began to disintegrate.

"It was never trivial," she said. "Making up for Jude's birthday is the most important thing right now."

We went to the Italian place we used to practically live at.

When the slice of cake was brought out, Eden finally started to apologize. She said she had been so swamped she forgot what day it was. But even as the apologies spilled from her mouth, her eyes never left her phone screen.

From my angle, it looked exactly like a live location-sharing map.

Even knowing her mind was miles away, I couldn't stop myself from asking the one question that was killing me.

"If you forgot..." I started. "Then why did you text me that night, telling me to wait for you in that dark alley off Fourth Street? You know I'm terrified of the dark."

But before I could finish the sentence, her phone buzzed.

I caught a glimpse of the caller ID: "Declan". All the words I had left choked in my throat like glass.

Eden stepped outside to take the call. Just as I expected, she never came back.

I sat there looking at the table full of cold food and the untouched slice of cake. I knew then that whatever existed between Eden and me was truly, irreparably dead.

It didn't matter how many years of memories we had shared. None of it mattered anymore.