Chapter 8: The Cracks Begin to Show

The days after their conversation were strangely quiet. Sunspot acted like nothing had changed, her usual energy flowing freely, but there was something different in the air. Something unspoken. And it wasn’t just ___ who felt it. The others must have, too.

___ couldn’t escape the growing unease that settled in his chest. It was like walking in a world where everything seemed normal, but underneath, the ground was shifting.

They still spent time together. He still followed her around, played the part of the boyfriend, but something felt… hollow. As if he were just going through motions, checking off boxes, pretending to be a part of the world. He wasn’t sure what it meant to feel things like this. To be human.

The experiment was supposed to be simple, but it was turning into something much harder.

He found himself watching Sunspot more closely than ever. Her laughs, her gestures, the way her eyes would light up when someone else said something funny. It was all normal. But it made him feel like he was an outsider, like he wasn’t the one making her laugh, wasn’t the one sharing her moments.

It was during lunch one afternoon when it all came to a head.

Sunspot had disappeared for a while, leaving ___ at their usual table with his tray of food. He didn’t mind—she was always talking to someone. But this time, when she returned, her face was different. There was something about her expression that made his heart skip a beat.

Her smile was tight. Forced.

“Everything okay?” he asked, barely looking up from his lunch.

“Yeah,” she replied, but it wasn’t convincing. She fiddled with her sandwich, picking at the crust.

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead looking at the other side of the cafeteria. Her gaze lingered on a group of girls talking nearby. The blonde guy—the one—was sitting with them.

___ felt a twinge in his chest, a familiar sharpness.

“What’s going on, Sunspot?” he pressed, his voice quieter than he intended.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly too tired, too heavy. “I don’t know what you want from me, ___.”

The words stung more than they should have. His chest tightened again, but he didn’t know why.

“I don’t want anything,” he said, his voice low and almost defensive. “I just want to… be normal. With you.”

“That’s the problem.” She shook her head, laughing without humor. “I’m trying to be normal, and you’re making it harder.”

He stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re not getting it,” she said, frustration creeping into her tone. “I’m just trying to do what the experiment asked of me. Help you. Teach you. But every time I do something, you… you overanalyze it. You make it into something bigger than it is, and it’s exhausting, ___.”

His mind whirled, trying to grasp what she was saying, but all he could hear was that one thing: she was tired of him.

“You… don’t want to help me anymore?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

She met his eyes, her expression softening just a little. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. It’s just… I’m losing myself in this, and I’m scared, okay? I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

For a long moment, the world around them felt still. The noise of the cafeteria faded into the background. He saw her. Really saw her for the first time—how she’d been carrying the weight of their experiment, how she’d been pretending to be something she wasn’t just to make him fit into a world he didn’t belong to.

And for the first time, he felt it too—the pressure, the confusion, the feeling that something was slipping through their fingers.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he said, his voice small. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

Sunspot took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she set her sandwich down. “I don’t want to lose you either,” she said, her voice softer now, fragile in a way he hadn’t heard before. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending like I don’t care.”

___ reached out, but before he could say anything more, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Sunspot stood up quickly, her expression unreadable.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, and before he could respond, she walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students.

___ sat there, alone. The familiar noise of the cafeteria returned, but it felt distant now, as if he were watching it from a far-off place. His heart ached in a way he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t even realized how much he had been relying on Sunspot until she was gone.

What had they done?

What had he done?