The things I Can't Say.

VERONICA'S POV.

The sky was a fading watercolor, smeared with soft orange and fading blues as I leaned against the porch rail of Penelope's house, my phone clasped in my hand like a lifeline I wasn't ready to use. The breeze toyed with the ends of my hair, carrying whispers of things I didn't want to think about—memories, heartbreaks, half-finished dreams.

Inside, Penelope was laughing with her uncle in the kitchen. I should've gone in. I should've laughed too. But instead, I stood here like I always did—on the edge of something I wanted but wasn't sure I was allowed to have.

Love.

Scott Rivers.

He hadn't texted me since yesterday. Not even a meme, which he usually sent when he wanted to make me smile. And I was a fool for noticing it. For caring.

No, I told myself. You're not a fool for wanting to be loved. You're just tired of being the second choice.

Every boy I'd ever liked had eventually fallen for Penelope. I'd smile. I'd cheer them on. I'd play the supportive friend. But it chipped away at something inside me each time, something bright and warm. Now, it was mostly ash.

Except... Scott.

He wasn't like the others.

And maybe that's why I was so scared.

I walked across the porch, the boards creaking under my steps, and pulled my phone from my back pocket again.

One message.

From him.

Scott Rivers: Are you still coming tonight? I need to see you. Just you.

I bit my bottom lip, reading it over and over. I could feel my heart pushing against my ribs like it was trying to break free. Just you. Just me.

I replied before I lost the nerve: Veronica: I'll be there.

---

Later that evening, at the lakeside where the moon painted silver paths across the water, I spotted him.

Scott stood near the dock, hands in his pockets, looking like every perfect mistake I was still willing to make.

He turned when he heard me. And smiled.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi."

He walked toward me, slow like he wasn't sure what he'd find in my expression. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"I almost didn't."

He stopped a few feet from me. "Because of Penelope?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I looked at the moon. "Do you know what it's like," I said quietly, "to feel like every guy you've liked... every hope you've had... has chosen your best friend?"

Scott didn't flinch. He just nodded. "I do. But I never did."

My breath caught.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something more intimate. "I never chose Penelope. I met you first, Veronica. I remember what you wore that day—your sunglasses were sliding down your nose, and you were chewing mint gum like it was your only defense."

I looked up at him, startled.

"I remember everything about that day," he said. "And I remember how I felt."

"Why didn't you say anything?" My voice broke, too fragile to hide.

"I didn't think I deserved you."

That tore something open inside me.

I stepped forward, standing just inches from him now. "Scott—"

"I know I'm not perfect," he said. "But I'm not here to be perfect. I'm here because I'm tired of pretending I don't want you. Tired of pretending it doesn't hurt every time you pull away like you're not enough. You are, Veronica. You always were."

And then, because everything in me needed to believe him, I reached up, touched his face, and let my walls fall.

His kiss was the kind that burned through regret. A thousand unsaid things passed between us in that single breathless moment, all our pain and longing condensed into something wordless, something real.

When we finally pulled apart, I leaned my forehead against his.

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"I know," he said. "But I'm here. This time, I'm not going anywhere."

---

Inside Penelope's house, the lights were still on. Her uncle had retired for the night, and Penelope sat by the window, her eyes flicking to us as we returned.

She saw the way Scott's hand gently brushed mine as we walked in.

And she smiled. Not the kind that hurt. The kind that said, Finally.

But even as warmth bloomed in my chest, I couldn't shake a strange feeling.

Because Penelope's uncle had been on the phone earlier.

And I'd overheard something.

Something about Ellis.

A name I hadn't heard in years.

And when I asked him who it was, he smiled—but his eyes didn't.

Something was coming.

Something that would change everything.

But for tonight, I had Scott.

And that was enough—for now.