Like every other romantic moment we shared, the kiss wasn't mentioned. I suppose he thought of it as a test to see what kissing was like. It was ridiculous of me to assume anything else. There I was, sitting at my desk in my bedroom, wishing I could relive that moment over and over again. I had my chemistry textbook open in front of me but hadn't registered a single word of it. All I could think about was the kiss.

The kiss. I was so desperate to go back and live in that moment forever. It had felt so amazing and I felt like I had been walking on cloud nine. Never had I felt so light and free. The end of the kiss was like being thrown off a cliff back into the sea full of the harsh waves of reality.

I pressed my head down onto the table, groaning so loudly that Louise and John probably heard from downstairs or wherever they were. My prediction was correct as I heard a soft knock on my door. I turned to see Louise, holding a cup of tea in my favourite cup. It has a Spider-Man logo on (if you couldn't tell, he's my favourite superhero with Iron Man at a close second) but what made it extra special was the fact that Lance had given it to me a few years ago for my birthday. "What's bothering you?" She placed the mug down on my coaster as she spoke.

"Nothing," I replied in a relatively confident way.

"Oh yeah? You've been up here since dinner and haven't written a single word."

I glanced down at my blank page. I hadn't even gotten a pen out but she didn't need to know that. "I've been reading."

"That's a lie. We both know you make notes as you read."

"Fine, you caught me. I'm thinking so much that I think my brain may explode."

"We don't want that," She sat down on my bed so I swivelled my chair around to face her. "So let's get it off of your chest."

"I can't. It's so complicated."

"Break it down. Imagine it's a maths equation or something." I had never really been good with feelings. Ever since the day I found out my dad was dead, I had learnt to cover feelings up and, since then, I couldn't understand much about them. Louise knew more than anybody (except Shiro: Shiro knew everything) that I hated talking about emotions, let alone making sense of them. Breaking it down like a maths equation seemed more logical to me.

I took a deep breath. I hadn't expected to explain everything happening with Lance to Louise today so I hadn't mentally prepared myself. The entire thing was a mess and putting it into words was almost as hard as dealing with it itself. I was silent for a few moments but once I opened my mouth and started speaking, I couldn't stop. I started right at the beginning with getting drunk and finished with where I was now. At some point I started to cry softly, my words becoming weak stutters and getting quieter by the second. I had to keep stopping for breaths or to sniff but eventually, I got it all out.

I was like a bucket. When I was full of emotions, I felt heavy and it was difficult to carry around. Once I poured it all out, I felt so much lighter, even if the feelings had just been momentarily transferred elsewhere. The problems hadn't even been dealt with but I still felt a little better. Like the bucket had been emptied a little.

Louise hugged me as soon as I finished. She wrapped her long arms around my body and held me so close that I thought I might suffocate in her chest. Then she started to speak herself and I just couldn't stop sobbing. "You need to talk to him, honey. I know you think you're helping him by doing this but, at the same time, you're hurting yourself. It's a lovely thing for you to do but it's not right. If Lance's dad loves him enough, he will come around. Fake boyfriends might just make the entire situation worse. What if his dad finds out that the relationship is fake?"

"I know," I sounded so broken and desperate. So pathetic. If all the kids at school saw me like this; I'd be a laughing stock. "I know, I know, I know!"

"Maybe he likes you too. You never know unless you talk about feelings. Real feelings."

"I can't..."

"Yes, you can," She reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it firmly. "You're stronger than you think. Much, much stronger."

I shook my head, tears still trailing down my pale cheeks. Louise had become a messy blob thanks to the tears blurring my vision. I couldn't even tell if she was smiling or frowning. I assumed the latter. "I'll tell him after the dance. That's next week."

"Why not sooner?"

"Because his parents want me to take him to the dance. If it all goes to shit afterwards, it won't matter as much."

"I'm going to ignore your profanity." She laughed and I smiled ever so slightly.

"I just need to get through next week. Then we'll talk and everything will be fine."

"Of course it will and, if it's not, it will eventually end up okay."

"Thanks, Lou. I don't tell you enough but I love you so much." Her blurry blob smiled- or at least I think she did- so I smiled back. It was genuine. I had actually been adopted into the best family ever and I was extremely thankful for that. I never wanted to take advantage of them. Of course, they would never meet the standards of my real mum and dad but they were getting closer as each day passed.

"I love you too, honey."

-

"So I think we can break up after the dance," Lance used air quotations around 'break up' and my stomach lurched. It shocked me a little so I genuinely almost choked on the sandwich I had just taken a bite of. "Dad seems to be coming round," He was grinning so widely and I didn't want to ruin his happiness so I just nodded with a fake smile on my face. Inside, I wanted to cry. Lance was too ecstatic to notice my pain. Breaking up after the dance meant it would all be over in just under a week. "At first I thought he never would but he says he can see we make each other happy. We must be good actors, huh?" I laughed but it was so fake. I was so fake. I wasn't acting being in love because I was in love and I hated it so much. I had a sudden urge to throw up.

"I'll be right back," I said as quickly as possible before grabbing my bag and the leftovers of my sandwich before darting into the male toilets and throwing up. Somewhere on the way, I chucked the sandwich into a bin.

"Keith?" Lance's voice called out and I heaved again. I leant my head against the stall wall and attempted to catch my breath. "Are you alright? You looked a little sick."

"I am sick." I ended up replying. Technically it wasn't much of a lie. I was sick. Sick of the fake relationship. Sick of hiding my real feelings. Sick of no one ever loving me. I gritted my teeth and scrunched my eyes shut, hoping the pain in my stomach would pass. It didn't.

"Do you want me to take you to the nurse?"

"Okay..." I mumbled, standing up with shaky legs. I was scared I might fall over but Lance's arm around my waist kept me steady the entire walk to the nurse's office. When we arrived, he sat me down on a plastic chair.

The nurse- his name was Mr Jacobs- was friendly enough. I had only been in the medical office a handful of times for the six years I had spent there. It was dull and generic, like everything else to do with the school. It smelt lightly of antibacterial gel which made my stomach lurch yet again. There were three plastic chairs, one computer and half a dozen posters on the wall. There was at least three about washing your hands properly, one about the signs of domestic abuse and the others were just random things. Did they think the students were five? We all know how to wash our hands- or at least I'd hope so. I'd be slightly concerned if they didn't know how to do that, even in secondary school.

"He threw up in the boys' toilets." Lance explained, deciding I wasn't well enough to talk myself.

"Okay," Mr Jacobs reached into a drawer and pulled out a weird looking thermometer. He pressed it into my head and, a few moments later, it beeped. "You seem to have a bit of a temperature."

"Is he going to be sent home?"

"Is there anyone at home to come and get you?"

I nodded. Wednesday was the one day John had off.

"Okay. I'll get in touch so they can pick you up. Thank you for coming here. You don't need to stay."

"I hope you feel better soon, dude. Remember the dance is next week!" He patted my back before waving and leaving me alone with the nurse.

"Is he your date?" The nurse asked with a tiny smile on his face. I scowled in response because all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and not talk to anyone for a while. My love life and friendships were none of his business.

"It's complicated."

"Everything always is when you're a teen." I didn't even want to ask what that meant.

-

"What's up with you then?" was the first thing John said when he walked through the doors of the main reception. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and just shrugged, speeding up to get to the car. I slammed the door shut a little too hard and rested my hot forehead against the cold glass of the window. "Hello? Did you hear me back there?"

"Yes..." I murmured, keeping my voice low. My head was pounding and I didn't quite know when that had started. I assumed probably sometime between the vomiting and going to the nurse's office. "I had a temperature and threw up."

"Don't give me the bug. I've got important work to do tomorrow!" It was a joke but, deep down, I knew John didn't care much. No one really cares about me. John started to drive, turning on the radio at an unnecessarily loud volume. It was a Queen song and, although I would usually have sung along in my head, I just wanted to turn it off and throw the stupid radio out of the window. Everything was just so loud. I reached forward and turned the volume down. John glanced at me but didn't say anything. Exiting the car park, we went over a speed bump and my head smacked against the glass. I winced and leaned back in my seat. "So... have any cool classes today?"

"Physics."

"Nice. How's Lance doing?"

"Good." I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to avoid mentioning Lance as much as possible because it just made me feel even more uneasy. I had a strong urge to throw up again as soon as John had said his stupid name.

"Are you going to answer all my questions with one word?" He turned the steering wheel and shifted gears whilst I watched closely. I was old enough to drive but I didn't see the point when I lived within walking distance of everywhere I needed to go.

"Yes." John snorted because, yes, I'm that funny.

-

As soon as I got home, I laid in bed. I closed my eyes, turned to face the wall and thought. I tried to rationalise everything, saying most of my problems would be nonexistent by that time next week. I must have laid there hours before I rolled over to face the door because someone had knocked. I expected Louise with a cup of tea and honey or John with a question but, surprisingly, it was Lance. "How are you doing?" He asked because he's my best friend and that basically makes it obligatory for him to care.

"Why are you here?" I got straight to the point like always. Maybe it was rude but, at that moment, I couldn't care less. I was tired and borderline depressed with all the stuff that was running through my mind. The guy sitting at the end of my bed was the root of it all but, still, I couldn't help my love for him.

"You know I pass here on the way home from school so I thought I'd drop in and ask how you are. You looked like shit today."

"Thanks," Yeah it was always lovely having your crush say you look like shit. "I'm good though. I was actually sleeping before you got here." That was a lie. I had just laid there, my mind more awake than ever before.

"Oh, sorry. I should go."

"I'll probably be in tomorrow."

"Okay, see ya."