We're halfway through the week but I could swear I've aged twenty years in the last two days. Two days ago is when I realized exactly how I felt. When I was able to put a definitive word to the cringy, swirly emotions inside of me. Two days ago is when my world flip-flopped at the fact that I was completely alone.

They talk about love being the greatest feeling in the world. Let me tell you something, it's not. Not when it's not reciprocated. Not when you fall for someone who doesn't feel the same way. It's like being promised wings to fly and then being dropped off a cliff only to realize the wings are made of paper. I'm plummeting to my death and with every day that passes, I'm getting closer and closer to hitting rock bottom. Except that there is no bottom. Just a dark, endless hole.

I know I'm exaggerating. I know that the way I'm feeling is pathetic and juvenile and that I'll get over... someday, but that doesn't stop me from pitying myself. Maybe if I could see an end to this emptiness, I might be able to convince myself it's not a big deal. But right now, it feels like a big deal. Of course, this hollow, sickening feeling isn't going to kill me; it's just going to tease me and make me miserable until I'm forced to turn off my heart or let it freeze over with cold, hard indifference.

I'd love to feel indifferent. I'd love to be able to shrug off my emotions like some kind of childish crush, but I know that's not possible. This is so much more than that. My thoughts have circled around Bryson for years and growing closer to him these last few months has done nothing but make my obsession for him morph into something more. Something real. Which is why I'm having such a painful time watching him laugh with Claudia across the table from me.

Lunch used to be fun and easy. I was able to fool myself into believing that the way I felt would fade. But now that everyone knows how I feel—especially Bryson—I can't hide behind ignorance anymore. The worst part is the knowing glancing from Chloe and Cooper. I can feel their eyes analyzing me as I try my best to eat my lunch without hurling.

"You okay with yellow?"

The two love-bugs are trying to figure out how to color-coordinate for the dance. Bryson simply shrugs and says, "I think I can make it work." When his eyes meet mine across the table, I quickly turn my attention back to my food and resume shoveling CheesePuffs into my mouth like it's my last day on earth... which it might be if this sinking feeling ever does develop a floor. I can only imagine how painful it'd be to have my emotions splattered all over the surface.

If my heart breaks, will I die?

"Only a week and a half until the dance," Chloe announces, drawing all eyes to her. "Is everyone ready?"

I snort sarcastically, shaking my head in mild annoyance and drawing the attention of everyone around me.

"Have you decided not to go?" Chloe asks, true concern weaving a frown into her brow. "Please tell me you're not backing out! I already told Devon I'd go with him."

"Don't worry." I wave her worry away. "I'm going. Just don't expect me to do anything except pig out on punch and potato chips while I make fun of everyone on the dance floor. Okay?"

Chloe grins at me, shoving her pizza into her mouth and then mumbling an incoherent "okay" around the mound of food balled up in her cheek.

When the principle enters the lunch room and announces that it's time to head to class over his precious megaphone, I nearly sigh out loud in relief. One more second of trying to avoid eye contact with Bryson and I might have given myself a hernia. The effort I find myself putting into feigning nonchalance is actually physically painful. The throbbing in my temple is proof enough that I'm trying too hard to look like I'm not trying.

"Hey-hey-hey," Bryson calls from behind me, his fingers gripping my elbow in an attempt to make me slow down.

I glance sideways at him and offer a smile.

"What's up?" I ask, lifting my arm to push away a couple flyaway hairs in the hopes that he'll release me from his grasp. It works, but there must be a crack in my expression that alerts him to the fact that something's off. He bends slightly to get a better view of my face and then frowns, diverting his attention away from me as we both continue moving forward through the halls.

"You okay?" he questions, his tone light but hesitant. I turn to look at him but he doesn't meet my eyes. I watch him nod and smile at a passing classmate before dropping my attention to my feet.

"Yeah," I respond, adjusting the straps on my backpack. "Just tired or something and this migraine isn't helping."

Bryson doesn't respond but I see him glance at me and then nod once.

"So, it doesn't bother you that I'm going to the dance with Claudia?"

I'm not expecting the blunt question to leave his lips. Yes, I did confess to liking him while we were down in that basement, but not once has he blatantly brought it up like that. For awhile, I even convinced myself that he hadn't understood the extent of my feelings toward him. I told myself that he thought I was simply confessing to liking him as a person.

Stupid. He would have had to be completely stupid not to have immediately understood that I liked him in a very non-platonic way. In fact, I'm the stupid one for even allowing that delusion into my head. He knows... and now he's concerned that he's offended me by not liking me back. The look on his face says it all. He knows I wanted to go with him.

"We're just going as friends," he clarifies before I even get a chance to respond. "Apparently, she only asked because she figured I didn't have anyone else to go with. And we're friends, so... you know. Plus, the girl I planned to ask was already taken, so there really wasn't a reason to tell Claudia no."

"Okay." I nod, pushing a smile onto my lips.

We round the corner, silence hanging between us for several steps before he speaks again.

"There wasn't a reason, right?"

I'm stumped. He seems to be searching for confirmation that he made the right choice. From his standpoint, he did. If the girl he wanted to ask is taken and Claudia simply asked that they go as friends, then what's the harm in saying yes? The problem is he's not looking at this scenario from his standpoint... He's looking at it from mine. And from my standpoint, he screwed up big time.

He needs me to tell him that I'm okay with it. That my heart isn't wringing itself into a tight, mangled, miserable mess. He needs me to reassure him that he hasn't just made my greatest fear a reality.

The fear of being rejected.

I'm not one to lie or sugarcoat the truth for people. But, standing here, looking at Bryson as he beats himself up over the possibility of hurting me has the simple lie falling from my lips.

"Right." I nod at him, smiling as I force the wobble to refrain from tugging at my lips. "It's all good. As long as you promise to entertain me with some horrendous dancing, then of course it's fine."

Bryson's boyish laughter echoes around the almost empty hallway as we near our classroom. "Deal," he grins, stopping at the threshold of the doorway and motioning for me to enter first.

"Actually, I'm going to use the bathroom first," I tell him, slipping my way around him and continuing down the hall. "Save me a seat though," I yell over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of confusion on his face as he nods.

I can feel him watching me walk away and my shoulders sink. Maybe I didn't pull that off as well as I thought I did because it sure seems like he's not buying my act of indifference. This is why my mom always encouraged me away from pursuing a life of acting. I'm a terribly unconvincing performer.

That just proved to be true.

———

Our conversation is forgotten for the rest of the day. At least, we both pretend it is. But I can see Bryson sending me those odd looks every once in awhile. The look that's supposed to be his subtle way of checking on me. The look that I'm not supposed to recognize as pity and concern. I hate that look. I hate it because it means I've lost again. Just one more guy and one more rejection.

Shrugging on my backpack, I make my way to the exit of the church. They announced today that though they'd had hopes of merging our school with the neighboring high school, those plans fell through. Their building wasn't designed for such high capacity. Looks like we were going to be stuck in this cramped, musty church for the rest of the year.

Such an unfortunate way to finish out my high school career—in a building that held zero memories of my friends. There was no nostalgia following us through the halls. Memories of goofing off at our locker, or writing our names in the bathroom stall, or singing our lungs out through the hallways while students scurried to class, or meeting Bryson for the first time and feeling that unfamiliar kick in my chest when he smiled at me. Those were moments I'd never get back.

Something lodges in my throat and I make a sharp turn into the girl's bathroom before anyone can witness my meltdown. It's been months. I've been strong for months. I had stood in that field staring at our flattened high school and I'd felt nothing. I'd kissed Bryson thinking that that would be the end of everything and instead of mourning the possibility, I'd been consumed with joy and giddiness. I'd barely thought about my other friends or even my family. I'd moved on without realizing that those memories wouldn't follow me. Down in that dark, soul-crushing basement, I'd managed to block out everything that should have been important to me. I'd sat there watching my world collapse around me and I hadn't shed a single tear...

Until now.

My own feelings are what broke me. It was so easy to pretend before. Pretend I didn't love him. Pretend I didn't miss my high school. Pretend Cooper didn't have feelings for me. Pretend memories didn't matter. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.

I couldn't do it anymore. I'd admitted the scariest truth to myself and now I couldn't go back. I couldn't wipe that fact from existence. It's like that one little admittance had encouraged all my other emotions to follow suit and now they were all gushing from me like a broken faucet. Loss, humiliation, betrayal, innocence, joy, passion, love... everything is swarming me. I can't breathe.

Ducking into the end stall, I drop the toilet lid down and sit on top of it. At the sound of someone entering, I pull my feet to my chest and stifle my sobs in my knees. At least my feelings managed to wait until the end of the school day to unleash this awful display of weakness. I'd hate to have to explain what brought it on.

I wait until the bathroom is empty again before gathering myself together and exiting the stall. I plan to rinse my face with cool water, pinch some life back into my cheeks and escape this place before anyone sees me. But somehow things never work out the way I plan...

Because leaning against the wall near the hand-dryer is none other than Cooper Jones.

Today just keeps getting better.