Chase 

"Leo asked me out and I don't know if I should say yes or no."

My heart sank, my palms started sweating and the urge to cry I'd had all day came back. Why in a million years did I ever think that she might like me? Emma was wrong; there was no shyness in Camila's feelings. She was still fallen for Leonardo.

I breathed out as if I had just run a mile. I tried to concentrate and give her a good answer, but my mind wasn't in it. I just couldn't. How could I help her get a guy I hated when I loved her so much?

Love. Such a strong word. I was seventeen, why was I using that word? I always knew I liked her, I knew it went farther than just a crush, but I didn't know I loved her. And it was just my luck to find out the day she gets asked out by someone who isn't me. Thank you, universe for giving me the worst two days of my life.

"Sorry Cami. Honestly, I don't know what to say. The only thing I can tell you is to follow your heart. It's better to take a leap of faith and maybe fall on clouds. If you think you should go out with him then go. Take my word for it, don't keep quiet about your feelings because they will just come back to eat you later."

Camila was left there sitting alone and confused. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't bare myself to see her. It would just hurt me even more.

Anger took control of me. I was no longer Chase but the monster my father and jealousy had created. It's amazing how when you're mad you don't feel anything. There's just so much adrenaline coursing through your body that nothing hurts yet everything hurts so much.

I took all my anger on a tree behind the school. I kicked and kicked.

A kick for my dad for being such a terrible person.

A kick for my mom for being so afraid of him.

A kick for Camila for being so hung up on an idiot like Leonardo.

A kick for Leonardo who was taking away the only girl I'd ever loved.

A kick for Mr. Doyle who always embarrassed Camila and me in class.

And finally, five kicks for me for being such an idiot. For thinking I had everything under control. For thinking I could make my best friend fall for me. For letting my feelings bottle up inside of me and taking them all out on a tree.

I realized what I was doing. I was behaving like my father who used violence to let go. I was hurting something that had done nothing wrong. I was being just like him.

I took one last blow, this time against the wall because I finally understood how easy it is to lose control, how easy it is to turn into him.

The final kick was wrong. I didn't put my sole like I had done the whole time. Instead my left foot bended and I kicked the wall with my ankle. You don't have to be Einstein to know that if you kick a wall with your ankle, it might break.

I yelled in anger and fell to the floor in despair. So this is what it feels like to be him. I thought. This is what he feels like. Anger, sadness, hopelessness.

In that instant I understood my father better than I had in my whole life. I thought I'd reached the highest point of fear four years ago when I went inside a haunted house in a fair, but that fear couldn't compare to what I felt like in the moment I acted exactly like the man I hate the most.

When the bell rang I tried with all my might to stand up, but I couldn't. My foot wouldn't let me stand. I tried placing it on the ground but I roared in pain.

I tried waking to the front of the school to get to the infirmary but I was too far away. I tried walking though it didn't work. At some point during the way from the back of the school and the nurse's office I must have passed out from the pain because when I woke up I was no longer where I was before.

I was lying down on a stretcher and my foot was in some kind of makeshift cast or dressing. By the white color of the walls and the excessive amount of lights I could tell I was in the nurse's office, even though I'd never been inside before.

"How are you feeling, honey?" I looked around for the origin of the voice speaking to me. It was coming from behind me and I made no attempt to turn around.

"Do you remember what happened?" I nodded. The nurse looked at me, expecting me to tell her what happened.

I had no intention of telling her the truth. I didn't want to involve anyone in my daddy issues and girl problems.

So I did what any desperate person would do, I lied. I made up a story about how I had a fight with my best friend and ran off. Then when I was going to back to her I tripped on a rock, twisted my ankle and passed out when my head hit the group.

The nurse didn't seem at all convinced of my story, but she kept it to herself. I think she agreed with Mr. Doyle about not being paid enough to care about our lives.

"Okay. I'm not very sure whether you broke or sprained you ankle so you'll need to go to the hospital. The only problem is that your mother won't be here for another hour or so and you can't go to the hospital without your mom there."

I nodded. I didn't really care. Even if most of the anger had already surpassed, I was still mad at my mom.

"Well, you stay here until she gets here. I already called 9-1-1 and they'll come soon to check your ankle. I'll be right back."

I gave her a tight smile and she left. I took out my phone and saw my phone loaded with texts.

Camila: Where are you? Are you okay?

Camila: Why did you get so mad?

Camila: I'm sorry I made it all about me, you're in pain and I asked you to help me with my crush.

Camila: I'm sorry. I really am.

Valery: We have band practice today, legacy, if you're still interested.

Valery: Please come, we have a concert in a few days, we need a guitarist.

Melissa Simons: I know what my sister did was wrong, but please come to practice. You'll enjoy it, I swear.

Leonardo: Sorry to bother you. I know you hate me and all, but can we talk? I need your help.

Taylor: Camila told me what happened, are you okay?

Camila: Please answer.

I groaned and locked my phone. I had completely forgotten about The Heartbreakers. The band I was so eager to join and I let my dumb problems drag me away from it.

I closed my eyes and lay down. It couldn't have been a worst day. And the greatest part was that the next weekend I'd have to come home again and this time my father wouldn't have a hospital bed stopping him for doing something stupid. This time I would be helpless.

Half an hour later I woke up to my ankle hurting like crazy and my mom rubbing my head.

"Wake up, honey. We need to take you to the hospital right away."

My eyelids fought to stay closed. I didn't want to leave, even if the stupid bed in the infirmary was hard as wood.

I sat up and my mom helped me up. With the help of my mom, the nurse and the P.E teacher I got into the backseat of my mom's car. It was a silent ride to the hospital. Honesty, I wanted nothing more than to talk to my mom. I wanted to tell her everything that was bothering me, but I knew what would come next. I knew she'd get mad at me because it was my fault I got hurt. Then she would become sad saying that it's all her fault.

•°•°•°•°•

An hour later I was back at school with crutches and a cast. I went as fast as I could to the Music Room 2, where practice was.

I went inside and everyone's eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

"Chase! What happened?" Said Valery, almost falling from her chair coming over to me.

"I twisted my ankle and broke it. No big deal. So, when do we start?"

Melissa put a chair near the front of the small stage so that I could sit. "Right now. If you want, I can go get your guitar." I nodded and made my way to the chair.

The music instruments at school were all kept inside a room. There were over a hundred instruments inside because a lot of students kept their own instruments inside.

My guitar, Lacy, was always in there. My uncle had given her to me on my fifteenth birthday. He said that when he saw it he thought of me because somehow the guitar was very similar to me. Don't ask, he's one of those crazy musicians.

Patrick entered the room and his jaw nearly dropped when he saw my foot. Maybe a broken ankle isn't really a big deal, but most people had seen me in the morning before I had a giant cast on my foot.

"So, guys, Principal Sullivan asked us to give a concert next week for this month's concert. The thing is, we don't have any songs and she insists that we can't play covers."

At Picasso High, every month the school bands give a concert to the students and teachers. Then, after (or sometimes during) the concert there are small plays. There's also a huge display of paintings, poems, short stories, sculptures and basically everything we do here.

"We were thinking that since Melissa likes writing so much, she could write a few songs but we need five and it would be unfair for my baby sister."

Melissa rolled her eyes and kicked her sister's chair.

"I'm not a baby, but, yes, I could write some songs. And rumor has it Chase is one of the best writers in school. He could help."

Suddenly an idea came to me. The song! Even if I was utterly heartbroken, at least I had a way of saying it. It was the perfect plan, even if it just ended in my heart breaking into more pieces than it already was.

"Yeah, sure. I would be happy to write a few songs."

Patrick patted my shoulder. "Great! Now we need to work on the melodies and all of that. What do you guys think of an hour of brainstorming?"

•

For an hour all the other band members did was brainstorm song ideas. For half an hour all I did was rack my brain for ideas while the other thirty minutes my brain was finally moving faster than my hand.

A while later I had written a song. I poured my feelings out, put everything I felt for Camila on paper. I won't lie though; a few of my feelings for Taylor may or may not have slipped through.

In the end I was left with an existential crisis and a new song, and frankly I was satisfied.

"Guys, I think I wrote a song."

The three of them looked at me expectantly. I handed them the piece of paper where the song was written.

Their eyes wandered from left to right, taking in each and every word that came out of my heart.

I was nervous, for sure, but I was happy to have put a piece of me in there. It made me feel as if I were a part of something. I felt like I belonged somewhere, even if that somewhere was with the girl I friendzoned and the best friend of the guy who broke my best friend's heart.

When they were done finished they looked at me in awe. Or well, Melissa and Valery looked at me in awe. Patrick, however, smirked.

"So, who's the lucky girl?"

I rolled my eyes. "What do you care?"

"I'm guessing I have to sing it."

The three of us nodded together.

"If you'd like me to sing like a dying walrus, then yes, Patrick. I think it's safe to say you're the lead singer. Unless the girls would like to change it to fit their likes."

Melissa shook her head and smiled. She looked at Patrick and blushed, hard.

"I think Patrick will be perfect. All we need now is to put it to music and write two more songs. Ready?"

•By the end of the day I was exhausted to say the least. We had a total of one and a half songs, only the lyrics. In the end we decided to divide into two teams: song writing and song composing. You'd think that having music composition class would help us, but it didn't.

We finished just in time for dinner. I hadn't seen Camila since the incident at lunch and she still didn't know about my broken ankle.

We ate in silence. I knew what she was thinking. I knew that she knew my story about the tripping over a rock was a lie. I didn't want to lie to her, but I also didn't want to tell her the truth. I mean, would you?

I finished my food quickly in order to leave as soon as possible. Passing out and breaking a bone don't exactly count as much rest.

"See you tomorrow?" She said, hope filling her voice. I wondered for a second if maybe she was excited to see me the next day. But then my brain started functioning again and I remembered that we're best friends. Of course she'd be excited to see me.

"Yeah, sure. If you have any nightmares, don't hesitate to call me." I gave her a tight smile and headed to my building.

I hated that I was being so dry with her, but my feelings were going out of control. If I couldn't even stand the thought of her going out with someone else, how could I stand her rejection?

Sleep came easily to me as soon as my head hit the pillow. However, my sleep didn't last long. At eleven the vibration of my phone woke me up. I'd forgotten to put it on silent mode.

I silently cursed for not shutting up my phone before getting my good night sleep. Though my annoyance was short lived, since the text message that had just arrived made me become far more concerned than angry.

I can't sleep.

This probably has an excessive amount of typos, I'm sorry.