Amanda Lopez was not a jealous person.
At least, she told herself that often enough to believe it. Her world was color-coded, neatly labeled, and usually disaster-proofed—unless Milo Murphy was within a ten-mile radius. But even then, she could manage. She could handle Milo's chaos. In fact, she was dating him, which had to mean something, right?
But lately, Amanda had been discovering there were things even laminated backup plans couldn't prepare her for.
Like feelings. Complicated, tangled ones.
The hallways of Jefferson County Middle School buzzed with the familiar sounds of chatter, slamming lockers, and the occasional explosion from the science wing. Amanda walked beside Milo, Melissa, and Zack as they headed to lunch. The day had been a typical Murphy one: Milo's backpack zipper broke and unleashed a horde of marbles, a paper airplane somehow triggered the sprinkler system, and a family of possums had mysteriously taken up residence in Melissa's locker. Nothing new.
But what was new—at least to Amanda—was the growing ache in her chest every time Melissa laughed with Milo. It was never mean-spirited. Melissa was her friend. And Milo had never made her feel like she came second. But still, Amanda felt it—that silent little storm inside her that said:
You don't know him like she does.
You weren't there for the ice cream truck incident.
You didn't grow up dodging falling satellites together.
That afternoon in the cafeteria, Milo ran off to help a raccoon tangled in someone's shoelaces, and Melissa offered to tag along—"just in case he needs a translator for the raccoon," she said with a smirk.
Amanda watched them go, then let out a long breath and turned to Zack.
"Hey," she said, forcing a calm smile. "Do you have a minute? I... kind of need your advice."
Zack raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure. You okay?"
Amanda hesitated. "I'm not sure."
They slipped out into the quieter halls, the echo of lunchroom chaos fading behind them.
Zack leaned against a row of lockers, arms crossed, as Amanda paced in front of him.
"This is going to sound dumb," she began, and Zack immediately shook his head.
"It won't."
She gave him a grateful glance, then continued. "It's about Milo and Melissa. I know they're just friends. And I know I shouldn't feel weird about it... but I do. I've never said this to anyone, but—sometimes I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. Like there's this huge part of Milo's life I can't reach because Melissa is already there."
Zack didn't respond immediately. He let her words hang in the air, thoughtful.
"I used to feel the same way," he said eventually.
Amanda stopped pacing. "Really?"
He nodded. "When I first met them, I felt like a guest in their two-person circus. They had a million inside jokes, and Melissa knew all the warning signs—when Milo's backpack made a certain noise, when the weather changed just before something exploded. I didn't get it at first. I felt... behind."
Amanda crossed her arms. "Yes! Exactly that."
"But then I realized something," Zack said. "You don't have to compete with Melissa. Milo doesn't need another Melissa. He needs you. And believe it or not, you bring something to his world that even she can't."
Amanda frowned. "Like what? A clipboard and a panic button?"
Zack laughed. "No—well, okay, maybe that. But also stability. Focus. You're like a lighthouse in the middle of a Murphy-made storm."
Amanda tilted her head. "Poetic."
"Thanks, I try," Zack said with a grin. Then, more seriously: "You don't have to be part of Milo's past. You're part of his present. And if you're honest with him, I promise—he'll listen."
Amanda let the words sink in.
That evening, after school and two mildly dangerous bus-related incidents, Amanda sat on the front steps of her house, waiting for Milo. He'd invited her over for "a totally normal, disaster-free hangout," which usually meant they'd be chased by at least one wild animal, and she'd go home smelling faintly of jet fuel and frosting.
Still, she couldn't wait.
When Milo arrived—wearing knee pads, a helmet, and carrying a fire extinguisher—Amanda smiled.
"Hi."
"Hey!" Milo said, sitting beside her. "I brought emergency cupcakes. I figured if anything goes wrong, at least we'll be able to eat frosting in the aftermath."
Amanda laughed softly. "You always think of everything."
"I try," Milo said, offering her a cupcake. "Everything okay?"
Amanda took the treat but didn't unwrap it. "Actually... can we talk for a second?"
Milo's face immediately turned serious in that way only he could manage while still holding a cupcake with pink sprinkles. "Of course."
Amanda fiddled with the wrapper, unsure where to start. "I've been feeling... weird. About you and Melissa."
Milo blinked. "Oh?"
"I know you're just friends," Amanda said quickly. "And I trust you both. But sometimes, I feel like I don't really know you the way she does. I didn't grow up with you. I haven't been there for all the—flying pianos and robotic squirrels."
Milo was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, "Amanda, I didn't fall in love with you because you were part of my past. I fell in love with you because of who you are right now. You don't need to know what happened when I accidentally flooded the third-grade science fair. You already know how to calm me down during a lightning storm. And you knew I needed a backup plan for prom in case the gym collapsed."
Amanda smiled despite herself.
"And you don't just deal with the chaos," Milo added. "You walk into it with me—clipboards and all. That's... incredible."
Amanda felt tears prick her eyes. "I just don't want to be the jealous girlfriend."
"You're not," Milo said, taking her hand. "You're just someone who cares. And I love that about you."
She leaned against his shoulder, finally unwrapping her cupcake.
A rogue squirrel darted past them, tripping over Milo's backpack and launching a fountain of glitter into the air. Amanda didn't even flinch.
"Normal hangout, huh?"
Milo grinned. "By our standards, this is practically boring."
Later that week, Amanda caught Melissa by the lockers.
"Hey," Amanda said. "Can we talk?"
Melissa glanced up. "Sure, what's up?"
Amanda hesitated. "I just... I wanted you to know that I really admire you. And I'm sorry if I ever seemed distant or weird around you and Milo. I guess I was just figuring things out."
Melissa smiled. "Amanda, it's okay. Honestly? I was worried you didn't like me."
They both laughed.
They both laughed.
"Look," Melissa said, "Milo's the kind of person who makes you feel like you're in the center of a tornado—but in a good way. He's lucky to have you."
Amanda grinned. "Binder buddies?"
"Binder buddies."
They fist-bumped—carefully, because you never know when a Murphy-based disaster will follow a fist bump with falling ceiling tiles.