The Leftovers

Five years. That’s how long I chased Aiden. It’s also how long his brother, Jimmy, chased Bree.
Then, on New Year's Eve, I waited at the movie theater for an Aiden who never came. And at the amusement park, Jimmy waited for a Bree who never showed.
Instead, at the stroke of midnight, we both saw their social media posts, announcing to the world that they were a couple.
Later, we found ourselves commiserating. He was the one who said it first. "How about we just make a go of it? We both know what we're getting into."
I was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
And just like that, we were a whirlwind of activity—trying on wedding dresses, scouting venues, picking a date, writing invitations. The goal was simple: get married before they did.
Weeks later, as I was drowning in a sea of venue brochures, a sharp knock echoed through my apartment. I opened the door to find Aiden standing there, his jaw clenched, the rims of his eyes red.
"Are you serious?" he bit out. "Are you really going to marry Jimmy? Have you even thought this through?"

1
On New Year's Eve, I stood in the plaza just off Central Square, watching the helium balloons float into the snowy sky, a sea of embracing couples all around me. I clutched a pair of movie tickets in my hand, the falling flakes melting on my skin.
I couldn’t quite name the feeling, only that after loving Aiden for so many years, this was not the ending I had hoped for.
My phone buzzed. It was Jimmy, Aiden's younger brother.
She didn't show.
The three of us—Aiden, Jimmy, and I—had grown up together. I fell for Aiden, and Jimmy fell for my roommate, Bree. We’d made a pact: he’d help me, and I’d help him.
A spectacular failure. On the biggest night of the year, he was stood up by Bree, and I by Aiden.
I let out a long, slow breath, a white cloud in the frigid air, and was about to leave when my phone rang. It was Jimmy. The background was a cacophony of noise, but his voice came through, clear and a little raspy.
"Did you see their posts?"
A cold dread washed over me. My hand hovered over the screen, my thumb refusing to tap open the app. It felt like if I did, everything would change forever.
But I did it anyway. My feed was flooded with couples celebrating the new year. I only had to scroll a little before I saw it.
And when I saw the photo, my numbness overshadowed the pain. It was a picture of them in their old school uniforms, standing on the athletic field, grinning and flashing peace signs at the camera. They both looked so genuinely happy. Aiden so rarely smiled in pictures with me. And Bree had always refused to take any photos with Jimmy.
Bree and I were classmates in high school. I'd moved into the dorms for a while after a fight with my parents. They'd asked Aiden and Jimmy to bring me things, and through those visits, Bree got to know them both.
But when had this happened? When had they fallen for each other?
Jimmy and I had been such fools, moths drawn to a flame.
I couldn't speak, a lump lodged in my throat, choking me. Jimmy was still on the line, silent.
Finally, he spoke. "Are you still at the theater?"
"Yeah," I managed.
"Wait for me there. I'll buy new tickets. We can still go."
"Okay," I whispered.
It was a pathetic situation, but at least I had someone to be pathetic with. That made it a little less unbearable. As I waited, I didn't try to piece together the clues I must have missed. My mind was just… empty. I didn't cry. It all just felt so sudden.
I don't know how long I waited, crouched by the entrance until my legs went numb. Finally, I saw him coming down the escalator. A few days ago, he'd dyed his hair a fiery red. "For a prosperous new year," he'd said, convinced it was a sign of good things to come. I had wanted to dye mine red too, but since he beat me to it, I’d settled for a milky brown.
He saw me and quickened his pace.
I waved a weak hand. "Help me up. My legs are asleep."
Jimmy pulled me to my feet and studied my face. "Not bad," he said with a half-smile. "No tears."
I punched my numb thighs, a pins-and-needles sensation shooting through them. "You either."
"Eh," he waved a dismissive hand. "Come on, the movie's about to start."
By unspoken agreement, we didn't mention it again. After the movie, he drove me home.
It was only after I’d showered and crawled into bed that I saw the text from Bree.
Stella, Aiden and I are together. I hope you're not mad?
I closed my eyes, a wave of irritation washing over me. Lying in the dark, I typed back a single, emotionless word: No.
Who she was with was her business, even if it was Aiden. But I had considered her my friend. I had giddily shared every single moment of my teenage crush on Aiden with her. And not once did she say a word. All these years I spent chasing him, only for them to end up together.
Anger and heartbreak swelled in my chest. I wasn't angry that she was with him. I was angry that she never told me she liked him too. What was she thinking all those times I confided in her? Was she laughing at me, at my pathetic, unrequited love?
Suddenly, she felt like a stranger, a terrifying one.
The moment my text went through, she replied, as if she'd been waiting for it.
Oh, Stella, I'm so glad you're not mad! I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you, I just… I didn't know how…
It was a wall of text. I exited the chat and unpinned her from the top of my contacts.
A moment later, another message came through. Stella, do you want to get barbecue at that place on Central tomorrow?
I knew what this was. A test. To see if I was really angry.
But we weren't friends anymore. Whether I was angry or not didn't matter.
No, I'm tired. Going to sleep.
She didn't reply. Instead, a new message popped up. It was from Aiden.
I was the one who went after Bree. I liked her first. Stella, I hope you won't blame her or take your anger out on her.
How could I even describe it? I used to love Aiden so much it felt like my heart would overflow. Now, in the space of a single night, the thought of him just made my stomach turn. This couldn't have been a sudden thing. They didn't just suddenly fall in love.
All this time, they must have looked at me and Jimmy like we were a couple of clowns, enjoying the attention we showered on them, only to turn around and say, "Thanks for liking me, but I don't like you back."
I could have accepted any outcome. What I couldn't accept was that the person I had loved for so long was, in reality, a total piece of shit.
I didn't reply to him. I just took a screenshot of both their messages and sent it to Jimmy.
You get one of these?
A minute later, he sent one back. It was from Bree. A long, rambling text about how grateful she was for his years of affection…
Jimmy: You'd think in five years she could have mentioned she liked my brother. Stella, we're not that pathetic, are we? We wouldn't have kept chasing them if we knew.
I had chased him for five years, but I’d liked him for much longer.
Me: I was just unlucky to meet them. But I don't want to see them again. I bet I'll have to tomorrow, though. And then I'll have to say 'It's fine, no big deal.' I'll feel like such a fake, but they won't be happy until they hear it, so they can feel better about themselves.

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