When Friday finally rolls around, I'm ready. I'd been slacking and skipping classes, so I spent yesterday studying and getting my mind off Seth. Today, ignoring him is no longer an option.

Seth had texted me twice yesterday and I'd ignored both messages. He'd asked to hang out but I just needed some time. Time to understand my own feelings and time to adjust my heart to this new reality. Truth is, just being Seth's friend has become increasingly difficult. I don't want to distance myself, but after Thanksgiving break, if nothing's changed, then I might have to.

The dark coil of regret in my stomach is unfamiliar. Never in my life have I had to sacrifice my own desires in such a drastic way. But if Cassandra makes Seth happy... I can't stick around to see that.

With all my assignments complete, I have no more excuses. Holding my stomach, I roll backward on my bed and consider just how I need to word my text to Seth.

"Ahhh!" I suddenly scream, the air vibrating with my agitation as I let the sound fill my room.

Pushing myself up into standing, I let my feet sink into my mattress. It's good my room isn't on the ground floor or I'm certain I'd have several concerned faces peering through my window as I start bouncing on my bed. When my energy only seems to build more, I press deeper and jump harder. My hair hovers around my face as I descend and flattens against my cheeks when I push upward, forcing a small chuckle to escape my lips at how ridiculous I must look.

Tumbling back down, I sprawl across my bed, breathing heavily as I pull my phone out. Now that I've got some blood pumping to my brain, it feels as though my sense of confidence has returned also. This isn't that big of a deal. I'll confront him about Cassandra, be completely heartbroken for a few weeks, and then I'll move on. Sadness doesn't control me, and I refuse to give it center stage.

I tell Seth to meet me at the indoor gym. But when he doesn't respond for nearly twenty minutes, I begin to wonder if I should have been a little less demanding in my request. Rather than lay here counting ceiling tiles—like Emma would do—I head for the shower. It's been a couple of days since I've washed my poor hair, so I know she'll appreciate a little cleaning.

When I step out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around my body and hair dripping, I find that I've missed a text from Seth.

I'm here, is all it says, and I hastily throw on a pair of jeans and a fluffy sweater before letting him know I'm on my way. But the moment I open my door, I slam directly into his hard chest, which knocks me backward into the doorframe.

"Ouch," I hiss softly under my breath as I rub at the tender spot on my head.

"Mercy!" His voice is a breath of concern as he reaches out to steady me. "Are you okay?"

I begin laughing, shaking my head in amusement. "When you said you were here, I figured you were talking about the gym."

He gives me an apologetic grin and shrugs. "I was already nearby, so figured I'd just meet you here."

I nod in understanding, letting my fingers mindlessly slide over the bump forming on the back of my head.

"We can still go to the gym if you want," he suggests, stepping back to allow me to lead the way.

"No, no," I say, waving away the idea. "Here is fine." I gesture for him to come inside, picking my discarded towel up off the floor. I try to wring out as much moisture from my hair as possible and once satisfied, I toss the towel in the corner of the room.

"So..." we both say in unison, and then laugh uncomfortably.

"Go ahead," I say, settling back on my bed and watching as Seth takes a seat at Emma's desk.

"I, uh..." He scratches his head. "I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I found out my friend from back home was in the hospital, so I was a little bit... I should have been more careful with my texting." He drums his fingers along the tabletop. "I'm sorry if I gave you the idea that, you know." He shrugs.

"Hey," I say, laughing. "I'd never be offended by someone wanting to kiss me. I'd be flattered, really. Besides, it's not that weird. It's not like we haven't ever kissed before."

"We haven't," Seth taunts, his voice is soft but firm. "Not for real anyway."

"Fine, fine, fine," I murmur, waving my hands in front of me, "I get the hint. If you'd really like to kiss me, go for it."

Seth laughs, seeming to appreciate the lightness of our conversation. The devastating truth though is that he thinks I'm joking. It's as if the idea of me wanting more has never even crossed his mind. When it comes to me, his head is so stuck in platonic-zone that he can't even imagine other possibilities. That's crushing.

"I'm kidding," I finally admit, letting out a deep sigh as I fiddle with the seam of my pillowcase. Laughing, I tilt my attention back toward Seth and mutter, "Besides, I can't imagine Cassandra would be too happy about us kissing."

That gets his attention and striking green eyes flash up to meet mine. "Cassandra?"

"I mean, you wanted to kiss her, right?" The question leaves my lips on a wave of hesitancy. This entire conversation has become weird. Talking about kissing with the only person on the planet that I actually want to kiss... it's getting uncomfortable.

I find myself actually regretting ever confronting him about this. And why did I feel the need to? He can kiss whoever he wants to kiss. It's absolutely none of my business. And yet, here I am sticking my nose where it doesn't belong and making my feelings embarrassingly obvious.

"Dang it." Seth moans into his hands as he runs them down his face. "I really thought nobody had seen that. Who told you?"

"Nobody," I assure him. "I'm the unfortunate sucker who had to see it." And then with a rueful grin, I shrug casually, adding, "And then I told Shonice."

"You're lying," he gasps, but it sounds more like he's trying to convince himself rather than actually accusing me. "Shonice would have murdered me if she knew."

"Yes," I nod, remembering the rage that had propelled her from Emma's bed yesterday, "But I convinced her to let me do it."

Seth's eyes land on me, confusion dancing between his brows as he watches me for several seconds. And then he starts to smile. "So you're going to murder me?"

"Why in the world would I do that?" I ask, criss-crossing my legs. "You can date whoever you want... I suppose I'm just here to ask, why her?"

"Why not her?" Seth retorts, though his tone is gentle, curious.

"Look," I sigh. "I really like you, and if I felt Cassandra was a good person, I'd probably let this go, but there's something about her..."

Seth leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he listens. "What kind of something?"

"She, uh." My throat is tight. Clearing it, I try to continue. "None of this is real for her. It's an infatuation. She's been competing for you, making it a game."

"How so?"

"I mean, probably exactly the way you're imagining it," I answer, lifting my shoulders dubiously. "When two people want the same thing, they tend to compete for it."

Seth nods, eyes narrowing in thought. "And who's the other person?"

My heart stops. My tongue goes dry. I have absolutely no response. I can't lie to him; I refuse to do that. But I also can't tell him the truth because admitting that I'm that person will only make him think that I was in on the game.

"Mercy."

My name has never sounded so heavy coming from someone's mouth. But right now, it sounds like it's been stuffed full of regret and betrayal. Seth doesn't need my response to know that I'm that other person, and there's nothing I can say right now to convince him of my innocence.

"You?"

He sounds devastated. His eyes search mine, his brows pulled tight in perplexity. His trust in me has been broken and I'm scrambling to come up with some way of fixing it. My problem is that I don't think before I speak. Everything I say and do is about me. My concern for other people and what they want is almost nonexistent. I have to change that because I'm coming to realize that Seth is more than just a beautiful person that I'd be proud to call mine. He's a beautiful person who deserves the very best in life, even if that's not me.

All this time I've been fighting to make him want me because it's what I want. But what if I'm not what he wants. What if I'm simply not good for him.

"Forget about me," I say, a tinge of anger sweeping through me. "This isn't about me, Seth. It's about you. What I think or how I feel is not important. You have to understand that. I never intended for this to turn into some kind of sick game. And the moment I realized what she was doing, I was done. But Cassandra—"

"Stop." His voice is feather-soft but razor sharp. "I get it, okay?"

I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I understand how you viewed us before," he explains, but the quirk in my brow only deepens. "You called us a clique before, but maybe now you're understanding that things aren't always the way they appear."

"Um..." I scratch my head, lost. "Seth, this isn't about your friends."

His eyes finally lift to meet mine and something flashes in their depths. It's indecipherable, but I sense a spark of understanding or clarity. He seems to know exactly what I'm talking about but he's choosing ignorance. Acknowledging my affection for him will only complicate our friendship. He doesn't need more complications in his life.

"I should get going," he says after a moment, standing to make his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he stops. His back is to me as he processes everything I just admitted, and then he turns his head toward me. "You won. You know that, right?"

My chest swells, icy bewilderment filling the cavity as I absorb his words. There's a tug of war between my heart and my mind. A sense of bliss mingling with self-loathing. I've never been the most selfless person, but I've always been honest. At least, I thought I was. Now I'm realizing that, even though I never verbalized my participation in Cassandra's little contest, I was still in on it. That realization is a brick to the heart.

"I'm not mad," he assures me, but I can see lines of weariness in his eyes. He lets out a tired laugh. "I don't think I'm mad, anyway. I just need a little time." He opens the door and steps through the threshold. "I'll text you later."

———

I don't move for the rest of the day. Even when Emma drops in to get ready for a night out with her friends, I remain stunned. I keep pulling out my phone, needing someone to text about my situation but then dropping it to my side when I realize I don't even know what's going on. My mind is blown by Seth's admission. I feel as though I'm missing a massive chunk of the puzzle because, even though Seth said it plainly, I can't figure it out.

I won? What does that even mean? He chose me? He likes me back? Why would he say something like that and then just walk away? He was too casual about it and it's making me want to rip my hair out.

I tug at the strands, digging my fingernails into my scalp as I close my eyes and try my best to understand. But, the longer I lay here rolling thoughts around in my head, the more confused I get. And the more confused I get, the more tired I get. But, no matter how tired I am, I can't sleep. There are too many unanswered questions and I'm desperate for answers.

So, I call the only person who knows more about Seth than I do.

"Yo."

"What are you doing?" I ask, my phone smushed between my ear and my pillow where I lay sprawled out on my bed.

"Playing in the snow," is Shonice's childish reply.

My head pops up. "Snow?"

Jumping from my bed, I bolt toward the window only to find that, sure enough, it's snowing. It's not that 'first flurry of the year' kind of snow either. These are the fat, heavy snowflakes that are barreling down like a fluffy shower. All my troubles are gone as I stare out the window. God knew I needed this.

"I'm coming too," I say, dropping to the ground to rummage under my bed for my winter gear. "Found it!" I holler to myself, pulling my winter jumpsuit out and hugging it to my chest. It looks like a halloween costume with a ridge of spikes down the back, an inflated tail, and a monster head hoodie with teeth jutting out of its protruding snout. It's even green with scales all over it. It's my favorite.

"We're in the soccer fields," Shonice tells me.

"Seth too?"

"No."

I sign in relief. "Good. I got drama that needs talked about," I tell her, hating myself for bringing him up. "It involves Seth."

"Hmm." I can practically hear the clicking in Shonice's brain as she lets my words sink in. "I'm not sure if I should be worried or intrigued by this news, but I'm leaning more toward intrigued."

I drop my phone on the bed while I slip my jumpsuit on and then pick it up just in time to hear her mumbling something about how she can't imagine the word drama linked with Seth. I ignore her and slip on some gloves.

"I'll be down in two."

Before she can respond, I end the call and hide my phone in one of my many protective pockets.

This is exactly where I want to be. Snowballs and sleds, those are the kinds of games I enjoy. Not the kind that involve hearts and romance. Those are scary and dangerous and embarrassing.

With a ball of snow in hand, I hide behind a tree, ready to pop out and nail my enemy in the head with my ice weapon. The hours stretch out, a group of us throwing snow, diving in snow, building with snow. It's magical. And then the sun begins to disappear and the cold sets in.

Everyone agrees to head to a neighboring town to enjoy hot chocolate at some rooftop bar. I'm not expecting bumping music, disco lights, and bobbing bodies on a beer-stained dance floor, but I'm not at all disappointed. Some of us dance, none of us drink—mainly because all but two of us are underage—and we all manage to have a fantastic night.

As I'm bouncing and flinging my arms to the music, I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulder. Shonice is standing behind me, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in her hands. I grin, the chill of the night mixed with the sweat on my skin is an odd combination I call 'freezing hot'.

I take the offered drink and follow her further out onto the roof where tables line the wall overlooking the small town. We're only two stories up, but it's still a charming view. Now that my heart has stopped racing and I begin to cool down, I'm grateful for the hot drink and scattering of patio heaters.

"Ok," Shonice says, getting right to the point, "Tell me everything."

And so I do. When I'm done, she sits with both hands wrapped around her drink as she ponders my story. Cocking her head to the side, she finally speaks.

"You know, I can actually see both perspectives in this story." She takes a sip of her drink, licking the foam from her upper lip. "Like, I get why he feels betrayed. He thought what you two had was real but now he's doubtful. For all he knows, he was just a game to you too. On the other hand, dude Seth, calm the frick down!"

I laugh but she continues, pointing her entire hand toward me. "Like, you literally did nothing wrong. You even tried to warn him about Cassandra and he brushed it off. Like, boy, don't be a moron!"

"I think it's more about the feelings that were involved in all this rather than the actions themselves," I tell her.

She blinks at me. "Explain."

"He didn't know I genuinely liked him," I shrug. "I think he was shocked."

"Wait." Shonice waves her hands in front of her as if swatting a swarm of flies. "You like Seth? Like really like him?"

Stunned, I can do nothing but stare.

"Kidding!" she screeches, her hyena laugh splitting through the air. "I definitely knew you were bonkers in love with him. I just wanted to know what the 'you're stupid' face looked like on you. Honestly, you did me proud. It almost made me feel stupid."

"Thank you."

"So, here's the deal," she says, downing the last of her drink and shoving it to the side, "Seth doesn't have a clue how you feel. I'm not sure if he's trained himself to shut down that part of his brain, but when it comes to girls, he's about as emotionally intelligent as a dead fish."

"Um, cool?"

"Yeah," she agrees distractedly, "So, unfortunately, when it comes to you, he's only ever seen you as a friend. But, the good news?... He only sees you as a friend. His inability to read emotions in this situation is a blessing!"

When I do nothing but give her the 'stupid face' again, she elaborates.

"He doesn't know you love him, okay. " She throws her hands up, apparently feeling like that's explanation enough.

But I hear nothing but the word love and I quickly erase it from my memory. I refuse to even play around with such an idea. I can't love Seth Vans, because liking him is painful enough.

---

How do you think Seth feels about Mercy? Just a friend? Or does he want more?