My Tuesday morning class is canceled. Sad for the teacher with the flu, but yay for me. Now I get to stroll around campus desperately searching for entertainment. It's unfortunate that the nearest activity to our school is Walmart, and even that is a good twenty minutes away.

I'm bored. Really bored.

Our campus is in the heart of Greenville, so making my way downtown by foot takes a whole five minutes. It's kind of cute. We've got an old-fashioned pizza parlor, an old-fashioned movie theater, a very modern Dairy Queen inside of an old-fashioned ice-cream shop. Everything is very historical and kind of charming, but my favorite place is the center of town where they have a large brick bank with shiny narrow windows and a simple white gazebo on the corner.

I cross the street, taking a seat as I watch people begin their days. It's still pretty quiet—just me and a couple of birds—and it makes me wish I had a cup of hot tea in my hands. There's just something about holding a mug, steaming with something warm and fresh in your hands that always seems cozy and invigorating.

Resting my arms on the rails of the gazebo, I stare out at the awakening world. Everything is glimmering in the orange glow of morning and it feels like the soft warmth is the sun's personal greeting to me. I close my eyes, basking in the rightness of this moment. The quiet, uninterrupted peace. It's not something I normally yearn for. I prefer a little more chaos—a little more activity—but sometimes a little less from life is nice.

Until I open my eyes. It's as if the entire scene around me—the warmth, the sun, the birds—were all just part of an illusion—a staged trick—that's suddenly being swallowed up inside of a black, hungry cloud. My stomach drops, all my senses going numb as my vision narrows. I'm aware of nothing at all except the fact that I feel like I might be sick, and yet, I can't pull my eyes away.

They exit the quaint diner at the end of the street, his hand resting at the small of her back as he escorts her down the street. His smile... the one that weakens my confidence. The one that muddles my brain and makes me lose myself. The one that takes me too much energy to find. For one fleeting moment, I hate that smile. Because it's in full blaze, but it's not pointed at me.

Cassandra walks beside Seth, her hands curled around the strap of her purse where it hangs diagonally across her torso. I can't hear them, but I know she's giggling at something Seth has just said, and he likes it. He's enjoying the fact that she's enamored with him. He's soaking in her attention as if he's a magnifying glass and she's the sun. Only, in this instance, I'm the bug getting fried to a crisp beneath her inferno.

I'm struggling to breathe, and it feels like my clothes are on fire. I just want to rip everything away. A cold shower might work, but I'm not sure my legs know how to move.

I'm not this girl. I'm the one who gets wounded and can't find herself. Boys don't control my feelings. Nobody controls my feelings but me. Except, somewhere along the way it seems I gave Seth way too much power. He never asked for it, nor did he even seem to want it, but I handed it to him without a single thought. Because I knew I wouldn't get hurt. I knew I'd figure out a way.

I snagged his attention once. There had to be a way to do it again... only this time, I'd make sure he wanted me back. I'd be more than just a surprise or a solution. I'd make him crave my attention. He'd be begging to get Cassandra out of his life.

That had been my plan anyway... but now it's blowing up in my face.

I drop my gaze from them as they make their way down the sidewalk. They're drawing closer to me but are still on the other side of the road. As long as I remain tucked in this sweltering gazebo, hidden behind a wooden beam, they'll never notice me. At least, that's what I tell myself is keeping them from noticing me. In reality, I wonder if maybe they're just too wrapped up in each other to give the world a glance.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes, pulling a deep breath into my lungs to steady the queazy sensation in my stomach. If only this was a dream. If only I could blink myself awake. It feels unbelievable enough that maybe I could convince myself I never saw them together. Ignorance is bliss, they say. It might work. Until I decide it's a good idea to get another peek at them.

Nothing could prepare me for the slice of pain that shatters my chest apart when I find his mouth on hers. He's got his hands in his front pockets as she slides her fingers over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. She tugs him closer and he stumbles into her, smiling at the sudden movement before she claims his lips again.

Something feels off-balance. The little control I thought I had is slipping through my fingers and if I lose it, I'll be lost. Seth provoked my reaction, but he's not the cause... I don't think. It's bigger than Seth. It's more about my own identity. Like I'd been waiting weeks for him to notice me, and once he did I suddenly felt important. His attention gave me purpose, but clearly, he never felt that way about me.

I was nothing to him. Just a solution. He needed someone to play the part and I happened to steal the show. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but his project. I happened to be a good fit, but I meant nothing more. Until he discovered what a good friend I can be... and then he went and spilled all his secrets to me and made me feel valuable. But am I really? Am I really any more valued by him? Or was I just easy to talk to and honest enough to be trusted?

This feeling is foreign. I went from blissfully soaring up and down on a teeter-totter to suddenly being abandoned as I slam to the ground, alone. It's just me now, looking like a fool.

There are only two options for me now: continue pushing myself back up each time I fall, or simply climb off the teeter-totter. Unfortunately for my sad little heart, I refuse to get off. I fight, even if every shove of my feet into the soil ultimately leads to me getting battered when I land. Until Seth physically shuts me down, I don't think I could manage to walk away.

My heart—the very core of my being—is lost. It's wandering in search of stability and a home. As painful as his rejection is, it's only going to make me stronger. My soul might be wandering the streets of romance, but let it wander. I'd rather wander than abandon myself to a life of depression and solitude.

This isn't over, because I'm not a quitter. I'm going to find myself again with or without Seth.

———

I wake up five years later...

Or so it feels like. My eyelids feel like sandpaper every time I blink and I wonder if maybe I was doing that creepy thing when people sleep with their eyes open. They're so dry and agonizing. I rub my fists into them, hoping to smear some liquid around and ease the discomfort but it does nothing. Did Emma rub sand into my eyes or something while I slept? That'd be cruel... but well-deserved. The last prank I played on her involved a clump of hair stuffed into a jelly donut. She still has no clue I got that hair from the shower drain.

I lay in bed for several more minutes, rolling my eyeballs around beneath closed lids. With only a little improvement, I stumble toward the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. Blinking several times, I peer at my horrifying reflection. They should have casted me in the Walking Dead. I wouldn't have required any make-up.

Groaning, I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling before mustering up enough energy to leave my room. I'm wearing yesterday's clothes but my stomach doesn't care. I just desperately need food.

The slap of dry November air hits my face and my eyes begin to water in annoyance. Usually, I love the cold, but today I'm irked by it. But considering my mood this morning, everything seems to irk me. Thank goodness Thanksgiving break is only one and a half weeks away. I'll be able to get away from school, from responsibility, and from Seth and his new lover. It'll be like a mini-vacation for my soul.

I do my best to block all thoughts of the new couple, but they seem to be stuck on repeat in my head. Seth's lips caressing Cassandra's yesterday haunts me. Pretty sure I had a nightmare about it that I can't seem to recall.

My stomach clenches and while I don't think I'll actually vomit, it feels like I might. I step off the concrete path leading to the cafeteria and drop into the grass. My body is weak and I wonder if I'm coming down with some kind of flu. I'm starving, but food sounds horrendous. That's not normal. Being repulsed by food?... that's a first, and it has me concerned about myself.

Roger and Luke find me sprawled out in the soccer field an hour later and drop down into the grass to join me. It must not be obvious just how miserable I am because they don't ask what's wrong. I'm grateful that I'm still capable of hiding the hurt even though it's threatening to burst from my eye sockets. I'm not a crier, but today the sting is constant. I'm not sure I'd handle seeing Seth and Cassandra together, so I make up some stupid excuse and hurry back to my dorm.

I spend the remainder of my day with Emma. She tells me all about what's been going on with Trevor and the things his little sister endured. The fact that he opened up to her shows great progress and I find myself sinking into her life for just a few hours. Letting myself forget my story to be the listening ear Emma seems to need is a welcome feeling.

It's not until later that day when Seth texts me that my world slams back into reality. For a brief moment, I'd been able to forget him, but he's back to being at the forefront of my mind. Only this time, something isn't right. His text is different. It lacks warmth and humor. Instead, it's just three urgent words: I need you.

I'm out the door before I can even grab a pair of shoes. I bypass the elevator for the stairs, taking them two at a time, and then dash through the entrance. As I run toward Seth's dorm, I realize I'm not even sure that's where he is. I try calling him but he doesn't answer so I settle for a text asking where he is. The agonizing seconds of waiting for a response is making me jittery.

When my phone starts vibrating in my palm from an unfamiliar number, I don't hesitate to answer.

"Hi, Mercy," the feminine voice on the other end whispers. "This is Shonice. I told Seth to get a hold of you. He needs some help but I'm in the middle of an exam. Would you mind?"

"Yeah," I nod. "He texted me. Is he in his dorm?"

"I think so," she mutters, her voice muffled. "Let me—" I hear someone speaking in the background and then Shonice pops back on, "Gotta go." Then the line goes dead.

I begin running all the way to Seth's dorm, my breathing labored as my feet pound the pavement. Losing two seconds of time just to slip on some shoes would have been worth it. My feet are ice. Glancing at my phone, I decide to slow down long enough to send another text, annoyed by his lack of response.

"Come on," I whisper impatiently at my phone, my eyes remaining glued to the screen until it finally lights up. And I am not at all prepared for the six little words my eyes land on.

I think I might kiss you.

If I wasn't staring at it myself, I'd never believe it. And yet, I still feel the doubt flooding through my veins right alongside the thumping of adrenaline. Seth would never.

There's a rampant swarm of bees in my stomach. It's painful and exhilarating all at once, but I shut down the feeling the moment I remember. I know what I saw yesterday with him and Cassandra. But I also know he's not one to play around with someone's feelings. So, what is this? Someone else messing around with his phone?

For one brief second, my lonely heart thought it'd finally get a companion, and then my phone buzzes again. I take a breath. Ready and not ready all at once.

I can practically feel my soul weeping at his panicked response to his first message:

Shoot! That's not what I meant!

I watch the three dots indicating that he's writing another message.

Blake and I are swinging past my dorm really quick to grab my stuff and then we have to leave. I'm probably gonna miss you... not kiss you. I'm so sorry for that.

He uses a facepalm emoji to let me know just how horrified he is by his mistake.

So you don't need me? I text back.

His response is almost immediate.

No, I'm good. Thanks.

I drop to the ground, the couple walking behind me has to sidestep quickly to avoid trouncing me. The guy asks if I'm okay and I wave him on, flopping over onto the grass beside me. My body feels like jello that's been lit on fire, but yeah, I'm just peachy.

I make it back to my dorm, grateful that Emma's out again, and nosedive into my bed. I'm weary. Bone weary.

At some point, I must fall asleep because I'm startled by knocking at the door. I groan into sitting, feeling as though my eyelids have been stuffed with sandbags. I fumble my way to the door, rubbing the sand away as I grumble under my breath.

"Hey," Shonice greets with a smirk when she sees my exhausted, drool-covered face. "Lookin' good."

"Thank you," I murmur, gesturing for her to enter and then swinging the door shut.

I flop back on my bed, watching as Shonice walks to the window and takes a peek out over the field below. Turning back to me, she smiles and then sits stiffly on Emma's bed. She looks uncomfortable and I find myself enjoying her unease.

She informs me that Seth got some call from an old friend in need but his truck wouldn't start. She figured I could help him out, apparently.

"If you hate hearing this, I'm sorry," she beings to say, "but I'm kind of rooting for the two of you. He needs someone who isn't going to take advantage of him. Someone who actually cares." She pauses, smiling as she nudges her chin toward me. "I see that in you."

I laugh but it lacks amusement. "Yeah, that makes one of you."

"He'll come around," she assures, pointing a finger at me. "You'll see."

"Right." I nod, smiling at her delusional confidence. "And how long does he usually date a girl? Because it seems I'll be waiting at least that long."

Shonice stares at me blankly, shoulders going slack. "Hon, Seth hasn't dated—like really dated—since high school."

"So he just strings them along?" I ask, already doubting that could ever be a possibility.

"No...what?" Shonice is shaking her head in frustrated confusion. "What is this about?"

"It's about Seth and Cassandra," I tell her. "Saw them making out downtown yesterday."

"No!"

The force behind Shonice's gasp is startling. When she stands from Emma's bed, I wonder if I should have kept my mouth shut. She starts barreling toward my door, her cell phone in hand as she starts scrolling for, what I assume is, Seth's number.

"Wait!" I holler, stopping her with her hand on the doorknob. "Don't say anything. I shouldn't have even told you. Seth is a grown man and can make his own foolish decisions. But if anyone's going to talk to him about it, it's going to be me. I'm the one who saw it, so I'm the one who will perform the interrogation."

My words bring a sly grin to Shonice's lips and I find my own expression mirroring hers.

"I knew I liked you for some reason," she says, nodding at me in respect.

"Ditto," I laugh, watching as she swings the door open and disappears down the hall.

And now I get the unfortunate task of actually doing what I said I'm going to do. Sorry Seth, but your secret won't stay a secret forever. And I'm way too curious of a person to let this one slide.