“God, I'm jumping in the deep end,
It's more fun to swim in.
Heard the risk is drownin', but I'm gonna take it.”
....

I always like to act like a tough girl. Because I am. I'm strong and brave and sure of myself and what I want and who I want to be. I've always been.

But one thing I've come to learn is that no matter how strong you are and no matter how sure you are of yourself, you'd keep changing and things would keep changing and there's nothing you can do about that.

There would be parts of you that would never change though. But there will be things that must keep changing.

I stare at myself in front of the mirror as I brush my medium length, brown hair slowly. I don't know if anyone would understand me but I've always felt...different. And I don't know why or in what way. Not in the I'm so special and I'm going to be a world famous celebrity or a Nobel prize winner or the new Albert Einstein. No, just…different.

People are always trying to fit everyone into these neat, easy to understand boxes and I've tried to, if I'm being honest, to fit myself into one of the boxes but I’ve never fit into anyone perfectly. And now I think of it, I don't want to fit into any one. I mustn't be understood. I mean…I'm not saying I'm not normal. I'm also not saying everyone isn't different in their own way. They are…

I'm still standing in front of the mirror, currently straightening my jacket, lost in the middle of my thoughts, when my phone buzzes with a text.

I reach out and grab it. Immediately I look at the screen my heart does this little jump that I hate. I hate it so much that I get angry at myself.

I get mad at myself for not staying the same way it has always been. Numb, indifferent and cool. I don't want to think of anyone and feel butterflies in my stomach. I don't want to get jealous of people because of someone else, I don't want my heart to skip a beat when I see anyone (not even if it's a monster or a Halloween decoration) I don't fucking want to love anyone!

At least not romantically. I can manage-and accept- the fact that I love my best friends but some guy?

I don't want to feel all these feelings. I can live without them. I want to live without them. But unfortunately, my body had other plans. It decided to like Kyle.

Hey I finished the song! Wanted to show you yesterday but you didn't show up:(

I didn't like the fact that I thought his frowny face was adorable. I didn't like the fact that my heart was racing because he wants to show me the song he finished. Our song. I didn't like the fact that I felt pleased because he was sad he didn't see me at music club.

Besides my best friends and my aunt and uncle, no one has ever cared about me enough to notice I'm not there. Before I met Sam and Emily, I didn't really care if anyone thought I was alive (well besides my guardians).

I didn't care about anyone else and if I don't care about you then I don't care if you care about me. But I did care about Kyle although I didn't want to. And I know I wanted him to notice my absence. I wanted him to care that I didn't show up. Especially after I saw him flirting with that girl outside school.

I scrunched my face up, disgusted with myself for starting to care about things like this. Frustrated tears welled up in my eyes as I  finished up with my dressing. I was always a simple and casual dresser.  And I mostly wore male clothing because they were much cooler than female clothing. One time, my uncle took me to his friend's wedding and I seriously put on a black button down and khaki shorts.

I sigh as I slip on a few rings(the only jewellery I wear), grab my backpack and head to school.

***

“It's perfect,” I say flatly. I've decided that I'm going to ignore my feelings for Kyle until they go away. I'm going to go back to not giving a fuck about him, just like the first days.

“Thanks,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me slightly. Of course he’d notice how weird I was behaving. It was my fault for warming up to him in those past few days.

But I didn't care anymore. Although, a part of me wanted to tell him about the things his friends were saying about him, I didn't want to have a normal conversation with him anymore. In fact, I didn't want to see him again. Yeah, I could be dramatic.

The two things I didn't consider was that one, we were in the fucking club together everyday after school and two, Kyle is stubborn.

“What?” I ask, twirling a ring on my finger absentmindedly. We're supposed to be in the main music room now because the music teacher, Mr Simon, is supposed to be telling the members of the club what we're performing during an assembly a few days before we leave for Christmas break.

“You're acting weird. Did I do something wrong?”

“I'm acting fine,” I say. I want to go to the music room to know what Mr Simon is telling the members but Kyle already took permission from him and said that he's “teaching me something on the piano" and that he'll inform me about whatever Mr Simon was saying afterwards. Sometimes I forget that he has that power. Still, I could've disagreed. Yet, here I was.

“Okay,” he says with a shrug. “So…do you want to hear the song?”

I really want to hear the song but I don't want him to know I'm excited about it so I just nod.
“Sure, lemme hear it.”

“Great,” he answers with a smile and walks over to get his guitar. I'm actually very curious about a how his voice sounds and I want to see him performing with the guitar. Surprisingly, I've only seen him strum one chord on the guitar and play the piano. When we were at his house, he wanted to play something for me to see but Emily and Sam were back from the hospital and were wondering where I was so I had to leave.

He sits on the chair behind the piano and faces me.

“So…um, there's the piano and the guitar version. Which would you like to hear first?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

My brows shoot up. I suddenly remember what the girl with the tiny voice said about him running his hands through his hair anytime he was nervous. I mean, she's known him for a while so she might be right but still. It's a common behaviour. I even do it sometimes.

You're not supposed to care about that anymore.

“Right,” I say both to the voice in my head and his question. Then I remember he asked a question. “The guitar version.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay…”  And then he begins.

Wow.

That's all that's in my head as he sings and plays. What did I expect from this boy? Somehow, I'm not even surprised he has such a great voice. At this point I won't be surprised about anything about him again.

When he's done, he sets the guitar against the piano and runs his hands along his trousers.

“So what do you think?”

“Woah,” I say a small smile appearing on my face. I can't keep the impressed look off my face and he notices. “I like it, it was really good! And you have such a great voice.”

“Thanks,” he says and runs his hands through his hair again, not really meeting my eyes. He turns to face the piano but not on time. I notice his face reddening.

I smirk to myself, not ever expecting to see Kyle blush but here we are. The smirk on my face vanishes when I notice one of his hands picking on a strand of thread at the side of his dark jeans while the other one is warming up on the keyboard.

The moment passes quickly because he starts playing the piano version soon as it's just a great as the guitar version. I watch as his fingers move through the keys graciously as he plays and the sight is satisfying.

I already start clapping before he's even done with the song and he's smiling when he turns around.

“I'm grateful for your help Star,” he tells me. “It wouldn't have been as good if you didn't help me.”

I wave it off. “I barely helped. Just a few lines and some word replacements.”

“You gave me an idea for the piano chords for the song,” he argues with a raised brow.

“Well…” I say, finally accepting his gratitude and flicking my hair over my shoulder.

He laughs at me and I smile.

There's an awkward moment where we don't know what to do so we're sitting there not really looking at each other.

I'm about to leave, although I don't want to, when he speaks.

“Hey, Star.”

I look up at him.

“Yeah?”

“There's this…competition.” He's doing the thread picking thing again and I pretend not to notice. I wonder if he even notices it.

“Go on…”

“It's not really popular so I doubt you'd know it. But it's a music competition and I've always wanted to participate but…I’ve never been ready. I am this year though.”

“Of course, I'm sure you'd do great.”

“Yeah…” he runs his hand through his hair. “I was wondering if you want to perform with me?”

My eyes widen and he looks a bit scared which almost makes me laugh but the shock I just received is stronger than my amusement.

I don't know what to say, really.

“Um…” I begin.

“You don't have to if you don't want to. I just…thought since you're like a good songwriter and you're great a music(he finally admits it), I thought it would be cool to perform with you. Maybe we could even win.”

“It sounds like it's really important to you,” I say and fiddle with my ring in thought.

Honestly, I'm flattered that he asked me but I don't know if I really want to do this with him.

If I agree it means I'll be spending even more time with him…and that's what I want to avoid.

But the reason I want to avoid him is because I don't want to be involved with the Kyle I met at the fro yo shop a week ago. I'm noticing that I'm not the only person changing. Kyle is changing too. And I don't think in a cunning way to get me to like him. The change seems genuine.

“Sure,” I say quietly, mostly because I want to see the worried look on his face gone for some reason. Oh right, it's because I like him.

He grins at me.
“Awesome!”

I know it's a big risk by agreeing to do this thing with him. I have no idea what will come out of it but… I'm going to take it.

♬♬♬
Risk - Gracie Abrams