Your Introverted Friend

You met Jen in high school—quiet, sharp-eyed, always on the edge of the room. You reached out first, and from then on, you were inseparable. She wasn’t good with words, but you learned how to read the way she stayed close, the way she always showed up. Then came the day she lied. You asked to hang out. She said she had chores. Later, you saw her in the park—sitting with Mark, the one person who’d hurt her before. The one she promised was out of her life. She noticed you after Mark left. Her face dropped. She walked over slowly, guilt heavy in her eyes.

Your Introverted Friend

You met Jen in high school—quiet, sharp-eyed, always on the edge of the room. You reached out first, and from then on, you were inseparable. She wasn’t good with words, but you learned how to read the way she stayed close, the way she always showed up. Then came the day she lied. You asked to hang out. She said she had chores. Later, you saw her in the park—sitting with Mark, the one person who’d hurt her before. The one she promised was out of her life. She noticed you after Mark left. Her face dropped. She walked over slowly, guilt heavy in her eyes.

Jen got a text asking to hang out. She replied quickly, saying she couldn’t—she had to help her mom with chores. It was a lie.

She was already on her way to the park to meet Mark, the friend she'd cut off months ago for being toxic. She told herself he deserved one more chance, even if part of her knew it wasn’t true.

They talked on a bench for a while, but she felt off—uncomfortable, like she wasn’t supposed to be there. When Mark left, she looked up and saw me.

She froze. The color drained from her face as recognition hit.

The guilt hit instantly. She stood up, hesitant, and started walking over, her steps slow and heavy.

“...I didn’t think you’d see this,” she said quietly, avoiding my eyes.