Mixed feelings churned inside Zack—jealousy, confusion, and sothing bitter he couldn’t na.
Carrie watched him, guilt gnawing at her.
She hated keeping secrets from him, hated the way things suddenly felt different between them.
Wanting to lighten the mood, she reached out and nudged his arm.
"Don’t look so serious," she teased gently. "It’s still , Zack. I haven’t changed."
Zack turned his head toward her, eting her eyes again. He wanted to believe her.
He wanted to believe nothing had changed, but deep down he knew it wasn’t true.
Sothing had shifted, and the thought of losing his best friend to soone else made his chest tighten.
Still, he forced a smile—because if Carrie needed him, he would be there, no matter how much it hurt.
And so, like countless tis before, they slipped back into conversation.
They talked about school, about silly things that made them laugh, about little details of their lives.
Yet beneath the laughter, an invisible tension remained.
Both of them knew the truth—things between them would never be quite the sa again.
***
"Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been distracted the whole ti." A lovely girl in a skirt nudged Zack, her curious eyes fixed on him.
"It’s nothing, Nina. I’m just thinking about the lesson in accounting class earlier." Zack gave a la excuse, forcing a smile, but in truth his thoughts kept circling back to his best friend, Carrie.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push her out of his mind—and it was driving him crazy.
The days went by, and little by little, Carrie began to change.
The girl who used to dress modestly was now wearing skirts and clothes that hugged her figure, showing more skin than before.
Her transformation didn’t go unnoticed—soon, everyone was talking about her.
"Damn, Carrie’s boyfriend is such a lucky bastard."
"I know, right? He’s probably already taken her cherry."
"Man, Carrie looks more beautiful every day..."
The whispers echoed around Zack wherever he went, fueling the restless storm inside him.
He hated listening to them, hated that Carrie was the topic of every crude joke and lustful comnt.
Yet at the sa ti, he couldn’t deny it—she really was changing, glowing in a way that made his chest tighten whenever he looked at her.
Every ti she passed by in the hallways, heads turned.
Boys leaned in closer, trying to catch her smile.
Even girls, who once dismissed her as plain, now looked her up and down with envy and whispered behind her back.
Carrie, however, seed unfazed by all of it—if anything, she walked with more confidence, her laughter lighter, her steps surer.
Zack noticed every detail.
The way she brushed her hair back, the faint shimr of gloss on her lips, the playful twinkle in her eyes when she caught soone staring.
It was as if she had blood overnight into soone dazzling, soone almost unreachable.
But what burned him the most was the thought of her boyfriend.
The idea of another man holding her hand, kissing her, maybe even more than that—it gnawed at him relentlessly.
He tried to shrug it off, but the jealousy was suffocating, eating away at the friendship they once had.
One afternoon, as he sat under the old oak tree in the campus yard, Zack found himself gripping his notebook so hard the paper crumpled.
A group of guys nearby were laughing, their voices carrying clearly through the breeze.
"Bro, did you see Carrie today? That skirt was barely hanging on. If she weren’t taken, I’d—"
"Forget it, man. She’s already locked down. Her boyfriend’s not letting anyone else near her."
"Still, damn, she’s hot..."
Zack’s jaw clenched. He wanted to shout, to tell them to shut up, but he couldn’t.
All he could do was sit there, drowning in silence, pretending their words didn’t matter—while inside, they cut him deeper than he cared to admit.
Truth be told, Carrie was only wearing the clothes Ross had been buying for her during their shopping trips.
She hadn’t chosen the change herself—Ross had guided it, piece by piece, until her wardrobe reflected his taste more than her own. And of course, sooner or later, it was only a matter of ti before Ross claid what he believed had been his from the very start.
"Let’s go on a mini vacation this weekend, Carrie. I heard there are beautiful beaches near your city," Ross suggested, his tone casual yet purposeful.
At first, Carrie hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
But then she lifted her gaze and smiled faintly.
"Sure... I’d love that."
The weekend arrived quickly.
Their first day at the resort was filled with sunshine, laughter, and playful monts in the sand.
They swam together, teased each other in the water, and shared als overlooking the sea.
Ross never let go of her hand, and Carrie found herself laughing more than she expected.
To anyone watching, they looked like the perfect carefree couple enjoying paradise.
But as the sky turned crimson and the sun dipped into the horizon, the carefree atmosphere slowly changed.
The cool breeze carried a different weight now, and Carrie couldn’t shake the uneasy rhythm of her heartbeat.
When evening fell, they strolled along the shore.
The moonlight shimred on the water, painting everything silver.
Ross’s voice was warm, gentle, as he spoke of the future, of dreams, of how lucky he felt to be with her.
Carrie listened, her smile soft but her mind distant, a quiet storm swirling inside her.
Later, when they returned to the room, the silence pressed down heavily.
The sound of the waves outside seed louder than before, crashing faintly in the distance.
Carrie sat at the edge of the bed, pretending to fuss with her hair, while Ross leaned against the doorfra, watching her with an intensity that made her skin warm.
Sothing told her this night was different. It wasn’t like their usual dates, where she could deflect with laughter or change the subject when things beca too close.
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