We can't be Friends Anymore

The campus hums—students sprawl on the lawn or dart between classes. You’re propped against the library railing, nursing a half-hearted coffee, when familiar faces roll up.

“Yo, isn’t Yuqi your friend?” one of them asks, a little too casually.

You already know where this is going.

“She is,” you confirm, watching as they exchange looks.

“So, she’s actually single?” another cuts in, voice skeptical. “No hidden boyfriend? No messy situationship?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Nope. No secret anything. Just her and her oversized ego.”

That seems to encourage them. Someone whistles low. “Damn. Think I got a shot?”

You pretend to consider it. “Honestly? Go for it.”

That gets a reaction—a few surprised laughs, one guy nudging the other in mock encouragement.

“I mean it,” you continue, shrugging. “Might do her some good to have someone other than textbooks and late-night ramen occupying her brain. She hyper-fixates way too much on school.”

“She does look kinda intense,” one of them admits.

“Oh, she’s a menace,” you say easily. “But here’s the thing—Yuqi’s also insanely narcissistic. If you confess to her, she’d eat that up. She lives to be reminded how pretty she is.”

That earns a round of laughter.

“So you’re saying I should just walk up to her, tell her she’s gorgeous, and I’m in?”

You smirk. “Depends. Can you handle being ignored for two weeks when she gets too busy? Or her texting you at 2 AM just to brag about an exam score?”

The guy groans. “Yeah, nah. I don’t have the mental strength for that.”

Another one shakes his head. “Dude, why’s it sound like you’re feeding us to the wolves?”

You lift a brow. “Hey, you’re the ones asking.”

They chuckle, muttering something about how Yuqi’s beauty really is a waste if she’s just gonna be married to academia forever. You don’t think much of it—this isn’t the first time people have asked you about her, and it won’t be the last.

Besides, it’s not like it matters to you.

“Asking about what?”

The voice cuts through the conversation, unmistakable and laced with curiosity.

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know.

Yuqi stands there, arms crossed, one brow raised in that signature I-know-you’re-up-to-something expression. She looks effortlessly put together despite probably running on four hours of sleep and an unreasonable amount of caffeine. Her oversized hoodie hangs loosely off one shoulder, and she’s got that ever-present glint of amusement in her eyes—sharp, calculating, and just a little too pleased with catching you off guard.

The group stiffens. One guy actually takes half a step back, like she might call him out by name.

You take your time, sipping your drink before finally acknowledging her. “Oh, nothing much. Just these guys wondering if you’re single and available.”

Her gaze flicks toward them, slow and deliberate.

“Hmm.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “And? What did you tell them?”

You smirk. “Told them to go for it. That you’d love being reminded how pretty you are.”

Yuqi scoffs, but you don’t miss the way her lips twitch upward. “Wow. Advertising me like I’m a limited-time offer?”

“I mean, you are in high demand.”

She tilts her head, feigning boredom. “And yet, nobody’s brave enough to try.”

The guys exchange awkward laughs, none of them willing to step up to the challenge. One clears his throat and mutters something about being late for class before they all make a quick exit, leaving just you and Yuqi standing there.

She watches them go, then turns back to you, unimpressed. “You really have zero faith in my love life, huh?”

“Not my fault your standards are ridiculous.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” she argues, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve. “They’re refined.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

She hums, studying you for a second too long. Then, with a smirk, she leans in slightly. “And what about you?”

You blink. “What about me?”

Yuqi’s grin sharpens. “Would you confess to me?”

She’s teasing, tossing it out like it’s nothing—just another jab in your years-long game.

So why does it land heavier this time?

“Hello??” She waves a hand in front of your face. “Stop zoning out like you’re actually thinking about it— are you?”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, forcing a laugh. “I know you’re full of yourself, but that’s taking it too far.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Right. As if you could handle me anyway.”

‘God, she’s so annoying.’

She’s good-looking—annoyingly so. The kind of person who doesn’t even have to try. But when she does, she’s exceptional. Yuqi never settles. If she can push herself further, she will. She likes to joke that her father drilled perfectionism into her at three years old. You believe it. It shows in the way she studies, the way she carries herself, the way she acts like the world should revolve around her—and sometimes, it almost does.

You met her at the start of college—multiple run-ins on the same day. Apparently, that was enough for her to decide you were friends. From then on, Yuqi stuck around, pulling you into her orbit.

Rumors, of course, followed. They always do. But your relationship with Yuqi wasn’t that. Never that. It wasn’t shallow, like something you could fall in and out of, love or hate.

Best friends. Neither too close nor too distant. Something steady. Something comforting.