Catching My Best Friend’s Crush

My best friend set her sights on the most unattainable guy on the neighboring campus, stubbornly chasing him for weeks.

He didnt so much as spare her a single glance.

Feeling the sting of fighting a one-sided battle, she decided she needed an accomplice. She shoved his equally intimidating best friend in my directionme, the girl who spent more days navigating chronic illness than college parties.

I pointed to my own bloodless, pale lips. "Betty, are you seriously asking me to chase a frat boy?"

She pleaded with me, her eyes wide and desperate. "Consider it cardio. Flirting is good for your cardiovascular health."

Eventually, Betty decided to throw in the towel. Naturally, I dropped my end of the bargain, too.

That was when the untouchable campus god sent Betty a frantic text, his usual icy demeanor entirely shattered: Ill agree to go out with you. Just please, for the love of God, tell your best friend to unblock Jaxon. Hes crying so much my apartment is practically flooding.

01

Ever since my best friend, Betty, crashed a guest lecture at Northwood University last month, she had been thoroughly, hopelessly obsessed with Northwoods resident golden boy, Cole.

She made it her lifes mission to win him over. Weeks went by. She deployed every tactic in her arsenal, and the guy remained as impassive as a brick wall.

Yet, rejection only seemed to fuel her fire. It was like a sickness. "This is exactly the kind of man I need, Harper," she would declare, pacing our living room. "If he folded too easily, Id lose interest. I need the chase."

Because of my precarious health, my parents refused to let me live in the dorms. They rented a quiet, ground-floor apartment for me off-campus, and Betty moved in to keep me company.

It was past nine on a Tuesday, rain lashing against the windowpanes in relentless sheets. The front door burst open, and Betty trudged in, weighed down by shopping bags and radiating pure, unadulterated frustration.

She kicked off her soaked boots, complaining the second she crossed the threshold. "Dammit all to hell. What is Cole made of? Teflon? I wore the revenge dress today, Harper. The red one. And he just sat there. I swear to God, the man is a monk."

I paused my movie, shifting my gaze to take in the sight of her. Even soaked in rainwater, shivering in a crimson strapless dress, Betty was stunning.

"If hes that impossible to crack, maybe look somewhere else?" I suggested softly, pulling my fleece blanket tighter around my shoulders. "It's not like you have a shortage of guys lining up."

"No, no, no." She marched to the fridge, yanked out a sparkling water, and threw herself onto the couch beside me, popping the tab.

"Cole is different. When I look at him, my stomach actually drops. And..." She covered her mouth, a wicked, almost feral grin spreading across her face. "His body is insane. I went to his intramural basketball game last week. The v-line? The abs? Its like he walked straight out of an Abercrombie catalog. Biting that mans lip would be a religious experience."

I turned back to the TV. I would never understand the beautiful, agonizing mess of modern romance.

"Hey!" She nudged my ribs, a sly glint in her eyes. "Look at this."

She unlocked her phone, tapped into her camera roll, and shoved the screen an inch from my nose.

A guy stared back from the photo. His features were sharp, unapologetic, and aggressively handsome. He had the kind of dark, piercing eyes and sharp jawline that practically screamed trouble. Knowing Betty, she had definitely screenshotted this from Coles private Instagram.

"What about him?" I asked.

"Harper. Do you like him?"

I had known Betty since we were in training bras. The moment her left eyebrow twitched, I knew exactly what kind of chaotic scheme was brewing in her head.

I gestured to my own sickly complexion. "Betty, you want me to pursue him?"

She grabbed my hands, her eyes sparkling with manic energy. "Harper, Cole and this guy are glued to each other. Theyre a package deal. Someone needs to distract the best friend so I can get Cole alone. Besides, Im dying out here playing a solo game."

She softened her voice, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes. "Just do it with me. Please? Plus, I read an article that said romantic adrenaline boosts the immune system."

On the screen, the heroine of my movie screamed, "I can't believe I trusted your crazy ass!" It felt entirely too fitting.

A second later, my phone buzzed. Betty had Airdropped me the guys contact info.

"Trust me, Harper. You have to try. He... okay, he looks a little like he might punch a hole in a wall, but I hear hes actually super nice!"

I let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Fine."

"I could literally kiss you right now!" she shrieked, leaning in before freezing. "Wait, I have rain hair and I need a shower. But Im kissing you on the mouth when I get out. Get to work, babe!"

I just stared at her retreating back.

While she was in the shower, I opened the contact to add him, only to pause. The screen told me I already had him in my contacts.

Huh?

I squinted at the guys profile picture. It was a vintage illustration of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes.

My own profile was embarrassingly nerdy. My display name was simply Sleepy. My picture was Hobbes the tiger, curled up and napping. It was a manifestation of my deepest desire: to just sleep, eat, and exist without anxiety or pain.

His display name was Chaos.

My thumb hovered over the screen. I figured anyone who used a classic comic strip for their profile couldn't be a total monster.

By the time Betty emerged from the bathroom, enveloped in a cloud of vanilla steam and wearing a silk slip, I had abandoned my live-action movie for Spirited Away. I didn't have many hobbies, but getting lost in animation and cinema was my safe haven.

"Did you add him?" she asked, aggressively towel-drying her hair.

"Mhm," I murmured, my eyes fixed on Chihiro crossing the bridge.

Suddenly, a thought struck me. I scratched my head. "Wait, am I supposed to announce that I'm hitting on him? Is there a protocol?"

"Hmm." Betty paused, tapping her chin. "Start by asking him if he's seeing anyone. If he says no, hit him with: Would you mind if I added myself to your roster?"

"Ew, what?" My face scrunched up in visceral disgust. "That is so incredibly cringe. Is that how you flirt?"

"Listen to me, modern dating is all mind games. When you come at him with something that brutally honest, that painfully uncool, it loops right back around to being charming. It makes you look innocent. Just do it."

"This is psychological warfare," I muttered.

Despite my better judgment, I typed into the chat: Hi. Are you seeing anyone right now?

I assumed it would take hours, maybe days, to get a reply from a guy like that. I tossed my phone onto the blanket.

Less than two seconds later, the screen lit up.

Jaxon: ?

"He just sent a question mark," I said to Betty, panic rising. "What do I do?"

Before Betty could answer, another text came through.

Jaxon: No.

I physically cringed. Betty lunged across the couch, peering over my shoulder. "Send the line, Harper. Send it now. I'm going to blow-dry my hair."

"Okay."

Jaxon: Why?

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and typed: Would you mind if I started having a crush on you, then?

The moment I hit send, I threw the phone to the far end of the sofa like it was an explosive device.

God, that was humiliating.

The phone remained completely silent. Grateful for the reprieve, I turned my full attention back to the Miyazaki film.

Fifteen minutes later, Betty flopped down beside me, her hair a sleek, blowout perfection. "Status report?"

"He left me on read," I said honestly.

She bit her lip, looking genuinely stumped. I thought she was going to analyze her terrible advice, but instead she shrugged. "Whatever. Totally normal. Cole didn't text me back for three days the first time."

I remained silent. I wanted to tell her that Cole probably didn't text her back because he was emotionally unavailable, whereas Jaxon didn't text me back because I sounded like an AI bot programmed by a desperate teenager.

Betty opened her laptop to work on a group presentation, and I grabbed my phone just to check the time.

The screen was flooded.

"Oh, by the way," Betty said without looking up, "his name is Jaxon."

I looked down at the notifications.

Jaxon: Wait, what does that mean? I dont just let anyone crush on me.

Jaxon: I have standards.

Jaxon: Are you saying you want to ask me out?

(Timestamp: One minute later)

Jaxon: Actually, my standards aren't that high. Are you hitting on me?

Jaxon: I'm really easy to hit on.

(Timestamp: Another minute later)

Jaxon: Okay, if you like me, let's just date.

Jaxon: Sorry, I was trying to play it cool up there. It backfired.

Jaxon: Are you busy? Can you reply?

Jaxon: Its been ten seconds, are you still busy?

Jaxon: I messed up. I should be the one asking you out. Please text me back.

Jaxon: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted tough. I just panicked and showed the text to my buddy, and he told me to act aloof.

Jaxon: He said if I said yes too fast, you wouldn't respect me.

Jaxon: Baby, Im sorry. Dont be mad.

Jaxon: The truth is, Ive liked you for a really long time, I just didn't know how to say it. I didn't know you liked me too.

...

I stared at the screen, entirely deadpan.

"What's wrong?" Betty asked. "Did he reply?"

I pressed my lips together in a tight line, letting the silence stretch.

"Betty," I asked slowly. "When you pursue a guy, the whole point is that they initially reject you, right? Like, for the thrill of the chase?"

"Exactly."

Then what on earth was happening right now?

A spark of inspiration hit me. I typed back: Reject me.

If he rejected me, I could fulfill my duty to Betty by "chasing" him, keeping him distracted without actually having to date him. It was foolproof.

Jaxon: [Crying meme] No. I don't want to reject you.

Jaxon: Im so sorry. I want to travel back in time five minutes and punch myself in the face for trying to act like a badass.

Jaxon: I shouldn't have listened to my idiot friend. I'm sorry. You can yell at me, just please don't ghost me.

I massaged my temples.

Me: No. You need to reject me, so I can chase you.

This time, the reply wasn't instantaneous. The little typing bubble danced at the bottom of the screen for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, a message popped up, cautious and hesitant:

Jaxon: Baby, is this a kink thing?

Jaxon: Promise me you won't actually ghost me.

Jaxon: How long are you planning to chase me? I need a timeline so I can emotionally prepare.

I glanced over at Betty, who was fiercely typing away on her laptop.

Me: Undetermined.

Jaxon: Okay. Baby, I reject you.

Jaxon: (For the record, that rejection only applies to the roleplay, not to my actual feelings for you).

Seeing that, I finally turned to Betty. "Good news. He rejected me."

Betty leaned over, patting my knee in solidarity. "It's fine, babes. We are modern women; we can handle a little resistance. I'll teach you the advanced flirting techniques tomorrow."

I then watched in absolute horror as she cleared her throat, shifted her voice into an unnatural, breathy register, and sent a voice note to Cole: "Hey... could you maybe save two seats for me and my friend tomorrow? I really want to be close to the court to watch you play."

I discreetly opened Safari and googled: How to flirt with a guy without losing your dignity.

The top article listed a few cardinal rules:

a. Push and pull. Don't be too available.

b. Mirror his energy. If he runs hot, run hot. If he goes cold, freeze him out.

c. Maintain an air of mystery.

d. Do not, under any circumstances, act desperate.

I looked up at Betty. "Did you get your flirting techniques from the internet?"

"Ha." She flipped her hair with unwarranted confidence. "Please. I don't need to steal other people's material."

No wonder she was getting nowhere. My master was a complete amateur.

02

The next afternoon, the moment our last lecture ended, Betty dragged me across the city limits to the Northwood University campus.

By the time we walked into the basketball arena, the bleachers were already packed. The smell of floor wax and masculine sweat hit me like a wall.

Bettys eyes locked onto a target, her face lighting up. She waved frantically. "Cole!"

I was still trying to get my bearings in the crowd when she grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the steps.

Cole stood courtside, wearing a black and white sleeveless jersey, his expression aggressively neutral. I hadn't actually seen him in person before, only in the blurry photos Betty obsessed over.

Because of my chronic health issues, I rarely went to things like this. Crowds meant germs, exhaustion, and sensory overload.

"Harper, if you feel faint or out of breath, you tell me immediately, okay?" Betty whispered fiercely, leaning down to my ear. "It's stuffy in here. I'll take you outside the second you need it."

"I'm fine," I promised, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

We were just about to walk over to the seats when I heard Cole call out to one of his teammates. "Where's Jaxon?"

"No clue, man. Haven't seen him all day."

A second later, a guy near the entrance dropped his jaw and pointed. "Holy shit. Is that Jaxon?"

The entire gym seemed to instinctively turn toward the doors.

A tall guy was walking in. He had a fresh, sharp haircuta modern fade that looked expensiveand a silver stud in his left ear. He walked with a loose, arrogant swagger that demanded attention.

"What... what did he do to himself?" a guy near us muttered. "Did he skip practice just to get a blowout?"

"Who the hell is he trying to impress?"

From the moment Jaxon walked in, his eyes darted around the bleachers like a radar, before finally locking onto my pale pink sweater.

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. Right, I have to play hard to get.

His trajectory, which was initially aimed like a heat-seeking missile straight at me, aggressively veered off to the side.

Betty was just about to pull me into our row when a girl stepped up from behind us and tapped Cole casually on the shoulder.

"Hey, Cole. Where are the seats I asked you to save me?"

The girl had a sleek, shoulder-length bob and an effortlessly cool, sporty vibe. A gaggle of her friends trailed behind her.

"Who is that?" I murmured to Betty.

The bright smile vanished from Betty's face, replaced by a dark, stormy look. "Madison. They grew up together."

I didn't socialize much, but I read an absurd amount of novels. It took me approximately two seconds to read the room.

The casual shoulder tap. The proprietary tone. The implicit demand for priority seating.

Ah, I thought. The 'Pick-Me' childhood friend. The ultimate female bro.

"Hey..."

Jaxon had clearly lost his internal battle and drifted over, desperate to talk to me. But before he could get a word out, Betty gripped my arm and yanked me down the aisle.

"Out of sight, out of mind," Betty muttered darkly, refusing to look back.

I stumbled behind her, glancing over my shoulder. Jaxon was staring after me with the exact expression of a golden retriever who had just watched his owner leave for work. Pure, devastating betrayal.

"Your seats are over there. Go sit," Cole said, pointing Madison toward a row, completely oblivious to the tension.

Jaxon, looking murderous, walked over and deliberately shoulder-checked Cole.

Cole stumbled a step, looking bewildered. "What is your problem? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Jaxon didn't answer. He ripped off his warm-up jacket in silence. A couple of girls nearby tried to catch his eye, but he shut them down with a glare so cold it could freeze water.

...

Once we were seated, I tentatively nudged Betty. "What's the deal with him and that Madison girl?"

Betty looked at me, her jaw tight. "I don't even know how to explain it. Its just... wherever Cole is, she's there. Always."

Speak of the devil. Madison and her entourage drifted over to our section. Cole, the absolute idiot, had saved an entire row of premium seats right next to ours.

I swallowed my words. Truly, the people involved in a crush are always entirely blind to the dynamics around them.

Right before the referee blew the starting whistle, my phone buzzed with rapid-fire texts.

Jaxon: Why didn't you talk to me? I thought you were supposed to be chasing me?

Jaxon: Are you giving up? Can we switch? Can I chase you now?

Jaxon: The game's starting. You have to watch me. Please watch me.

I glanced up from my screen. Right on cue, Jaxon was staring dead at me from the court.

The girls sitting directly behind Madison started whispering loudly. "Omg, Jaxon keeps looking over here. Madison, is he looking at you?"

"I am so jealous of you," another girl cooed. "Growing up with two guys who look like that."

Madison flushed, a coy, practiced modesty settling over her features. "Oh, stop. It's not like that at all."

Beside me, Betty let out an audible, venomous scoff.

I calmly lowered my gaze back to my phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jaxon's hopeful smile instantly flatline into a pout.

Once the game started, I quickly realized I was going to be painfully bored. I knew absolutely nothing about basketball.

The air was thick with the squeak of sneakers, the roar of the crowd, and the relentless chatter of the girls behind us debating whether Cole or Jaxon had better arms.

Suddenly, Jaxon sank a brutal three-pointer from halfway across the court, and the arena practically detonated.

He landed gracefully, his face flushed from the exertion. The muscles in his shoulders and arms jumped beneath the harsh gym lights, sculpted and defined.

Instinctively, he looked straight up at my seat. The crowd around me shrieked again.

"His girlfriend has to be sitting in our section, right?" a girl muttered behind us. "He keeps checking this exact spot."

Then, a voice dripping with syrupy sweetness aimed a question at Madison. "Maddie, honestly, if Cole and Jaxon both confessed their undying love to you tomorrow, who would you pick?"

"Theyre both so hot! Thats an impossible choice."

"Oh my god, you guys, shut up and watch the game," Madison deflected, though her voice was laced with pure satisfaction.

Betty turned to me, mouthing the word: Pathological.

When the final buzzer sounded, Betty grabbed her bag. "Harper, stay right here. Don't move. I'm going down there, I'll be right back."

Before I could protest, she had grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and was sprinting down the bleachers. I noticed Madisons seat was already empty; she had beaten Betty to the floor.

I sat quietly, watching the tide of students file out. Against the current, a guy in a black-and-white jersey was taking the steps two at a time, making a beeline for me.

I didn't blink as Jaxon reached my row, dropping his massive frame into the empty seat beside me.

He looked at me, a breathless, cocky grin on his face. "I thought you were pursuing me. Where's my post-game water?"

"Sorry," I said, my voice soft, my eyes completely devoid of remorse. "First time chasing a guy. Im a little rusty on the protocols."

Jaxon, still chest-heaving from the game, let out a raspy laugh. He tilted his head back, taking a swig from his own water bottle. I watched his Adam's apple bob.

He was objectively devastating to look at. With the sweat glistening on his collarbones and the faint red flush high on his cheeks, the whole "bad boy" aesthetic was dangerously potent.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaned in close, and dropped his voice to a low murmur. "Stop torturing me, baby."

"Let's just drop the act and go public. Please?"

He smelled intensely of adrenaline and cedarwood. The sheer force of his proximity made me instinctively lean away.

"Sit back," I ordered, pressing a single index finger against his chest to push him away.

I tilted my head, studying him. "So. You like me?"

He sat up perfectly straight, nodding with aggressive sincerity.

"But..." I dragged the word out, pointing down toward the court where Madison was currently hovering near the benches in a pleated tennis skirt. "What exactly is your relationship with her? Because the rumor mill says you two have history."

Jaxons dark amber eyes locked onto mine, suddenly incredibly serious. "Cole, Madison, and I grew up in the same neighborhood. Our moms are close. But I swear on my life, she is nothing more than an acquaintance I'm forced to acknowledge on holidays."

"Really?" I asked softly.

I shifted my gaze to look just over his shoulder. Madison had marched up the bleachers and was standing right behind him, her face thunderous.

"Jaxon!" she spat, her voice trembling with indignation. "Where the hell did you go? I was looking all over the court for you. Unbelievable. You ditch your real friends the second you see a pretty face?"

I watched the two of them without saying a word. Jaxons jaw clenched. He turned his head just enough to look at her over his shoulder. "I told you downstairs. I don't accept drinks from anyone unless it's my girlfriend."

"I... I'm not just 'anyone'!" Madisons eyes instantly pooled with weaponized tears. She looked like a wounded doe. "We grew up together! Whats wrong with me bringing you water? Just because you get a girlfriend means we can't be friends anymore?"

Madison turned her tear-filled, doe-eyed gaze on me, her voice trembling perfectly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you sitting up here. I didn't know you were his girlfriend. I hope I didn't cause a fight between you two."

Wow.

She threw the grenade, pulled the pin, and played the victim all in one breath.

Spending my whole life sick indoors meant I had read an ungodly amount of historical romance and contemporary drama. I was practically a scholar in the art of dismantling manipulative women in literature. I had just never had the chance to deploy it in the field.

Until now.

I practically rolled up my mental sleeves.

But before I could speak, Jaxon beat me to it. His brow furrowed in genuine disgust. "What are you talking about? She hasn't even agreed to be my girlfriend yet, but the way you're talking to her is seriously pissing me off."

Madisons face froze. The manufactured tears literally halted in her eyes.

Right then, my phone rang. It was Betty. "Harper. Let's go."

I picked up Bettys tote bag from the bleacher, standing up to leave.

Jaxon looked up at me, absolute panic in his eyes.

I smiled, reaching into Bettys bag and pulling out an untouched bottle of Evian water. I let my gaze slide lazily over to Madison, making sure she was watching.

I held the bottle out to Jaxon. "Here."

Jaxons amber eyes lit up like Christmas morning. His large hand, veins faintly tracing the back, practically snatched it from my grip.

"Hey, we're all going out to get food after this," Jaxon said breathlessly. "Do you and Betty want to come?"

I stepped around the seats, stopping directly in front of Madison. Jaxon shadowed my every move like a bodyguard.

I gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. "Excuse me. You're blocking the aisle."

Madisons jaw locked. She stepped aside.

I walked down a few steps, then paused and looked back over my shoulder.

I gave Jaxon a bright, genuine smile. "See you around, Jaxon."

When I reached the ground floor, I grabbed Bettywho was staring at me like I had grown a second headand pulled her toward the exit.

She kept looking back at Jaxon, who was standing at the top of the bleachers staring after me like a man who had just seen God, and then looked at me. "Holy shit. What... what did you do to him? He looks like a domesticated wolf."

"Trade secret," I whispered.