I've never been one to hold a grudge or blow up in a fit of rage when someone wrongs me in some way. I tend to remain calm in hopes that my assumptions can be proven wrong with something as simple as talking it out. I understand that I got under Jamie's skin the other night. I set him off and I targeted his friends—along with someone he has deep feelings for—so it's only natural that he'd retaliate. As hurtful as his words were, I've come to the conclusion that they were probably just said in the heat of the moment. The level of truth behind them was most likely minimal.

At least, that's what I'd convinced myself that night. But that was two days ago and I haven't heard a word from him since. No text, or calls. He hasn't bothered to show up at my door begging for my forgiveness in hopes of saving our friendship. Instead, things have remained silent.

To keep my mind off of my own heartache, I've decided to take on a heavier load at the Ice-Cream Parlor. I need to stop thinking about the way Jamie had looked at me as he'd told me he'd never like me. I've never felt so crushed. The fact that he didn't even see me as a possibility in the future had my chest falling into a pit of empty regret.

My life was so simple before he was in it. Now, I just feel like I'm battling his negativity in hopes that he doesn't break me. I know he needs someone to stay strong for him, to not abandon him while he's suffering the worst pain he's ever endured, but why did I decide it had to be me? Why did I take on that responsibility when he's got four other friends who are more qualified for the position?

And then I remember him sitting at his lunch table alone, his so-called friends having deserted him so they could skip out on their obligation as his friend. I remember skimming through Instagram and finding recent photos of Penny, Dillon, Drew and Clarice out on another adventure without any sign of Jamie. So, of course, I had to step in. My heart wouldn't let me watch and not do something about it. But now, I sort of regret it. I regret letting him step all over me. I regret telling him how I feel about him. I regret watching him pine over another girl and smiling as he does it.

Maybe I regret our friendship...

As guilty as the thought makes me feel, I can't help myself. So far, I haven't gotten much out of this. I've been loyal and steadfast, never forcing him into anything he's not ready for. But somewhere along the way, I became his punching bag. He's a great guy, and I doubt he'd ever intentionally hurt me, but it's the fact that I've been here and never once has he thanked me for sticking with him. Never once has he gone out of his way to make me feel valued.

I sink into the stool behind the ice cream freezer, hating myself for having such a selfish pity-party. The fact that I really like Jamie is what makes this all so much harder. If I simply wanted friendship, then I think I'd be able to be the rock he needs in his life. He'd be able to dig away at me and release all his pent-up rage and hurt and bitterness, but my feelings for him have softened me. Now the digs actually hurt, and I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay composed.

The bell signaling the arrival of a customer chimes, and I stand to great a family of four. I smile as I scoop out their orders and hand back their change. With a 'thanks', the family heads to the back of the shop and I prepare to take my seat again. I'm startled back into standing when the bell rings seconds after my butt has met the cushion of the stool.

I peer over the top of the ice cream freezers only to find the very subject of all my thoughts the last few days. Jamie stands watching me, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets as his eyes fight to read my expression.

"Hi," I say, hoping to ease the tension around his mouth with a kind greeting. He doesn't take the bait though. Instead, he just shifts his weight to his good leg before taking a step forward.

"Can we talk?" he asks, her brows scrunched together in worry.

Gosh, this guy really doesn't know me at all. It's as if he's so used to girls freaking out and creating drama over every stinking thing, that he truly thinks I'm going to lash out at him the first chance I get.

I glance at the clock behind me, noting that I still have an hour before break. And since there's no way I'm willing to make him wait until then, I simply shrug and nod.

"We can talk in between customers," I tell him, flipping the top of the counter up to walk through, joining Jamie on the other side. "Let's sit over there." I point to a small booth near the window and seat myself so I'm facing the entrance.

"So," he says, letting the word dangle in the air as if waiting for me to fill in the blanks. I just stare back at him, my hands clutched to each other as I rest my forearms on the table. "Okay," he clears his throat, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It's been two days and it feels weird not talking to you or seeing you."

"I agree," I say, my tone business-like. I'm in no mood to dance around the fact that he thoroughly ripped me to shreds with his cruelty the other day.

"Well..." Again, the word hangs in the air. He stoops his shoulders slightly and bends his head to get a better view of my face, his brows scrunched in concern. "Are you okay?"

I heave an annoyed sigh as I drop my head into the crook of my elbow and groan against the wood of the table. I can sense Jamie fidgeting across from me, and I lift my head after a moment, my face revealing my weariness over all this.

"Let me ask you a question," I say, avoiding his inquiry for the time being. "Do you value our friendship? Do I mean anything to you?" I'm not expecting my own words to bring a surge of emotion up my throat. I clear the thickness away with a cough and then level my gaze at Jamie. "Do you want to pursue a friendship with me? Because if you don't, then please just let me go." I rub the side of my head with my thumb, continuing to speak without giving Jamie a chance to answer. "I can't just keep tagging along, hoping that one day you'll actually see that I'm a person with feelings and not just a convenience for you when you're feeling down. I want to be here for you, but I also want to feel wanted."

"You don't feel like I want you around?" he asks, his face vulnerable and wounded. Silence settles between us just as a dip of regret settles into the crease between Jamie's eyebrows. He sighs, his voice softening. "I had no idea you felt that way, but please know that I definitely love having you around. You've been that little piece of glitter in my bleak life."

"I'm glitter?" I deadpan, a tight smile forcing its way out of hiding. "So, are you saying that I'm somehow capable of making the world shine with my breath-taking beauty, or are you saying that I'm horribly annoying because I'm impossible to get rid of and I just spread myself all over anything in my path?"

"Well," he says, scratching the side of his head, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

"Oh gosh!" I groan, covering my face with my hands and then dragging them down my face. "You think I'm horribly annoying and you can't get rid of me."

"No!" he hurries to correct. "No, that's not it. It's just that..." he peers up at me with an uncomfortable smile. "The truth is, I do think you're beautiful. You're so beautiful, but I hate telling you that because most girls will instantly think that I've got the hots for them just because I find them attractive."

"Oh." I glance at my fingernails as they pick at each other. "I wasn't expecting that... at all." I lift my smiling face to meet the regretful expression on Jamie's, and I can't help a laugh from escaping my lips. "Don't worry. I mean, for as long as you've known me, have you ever viewed me like you view other girls. Seriously, I can take a compliment without growing cartoon hearts in my eyes. I'm just shocked is all."

"Why's that so surprising?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

"I guess I'm just not used to compliments from anyone other than my parents," I admit.

"What about your friends?"

"Naw," I say, shaking off the question. "They're about as warm as blocks of ice. I doubt I'd even believe them if they ever tried to flatter me anyway."

"Hmm..." His eyes search mine with an intensity I'm unaccustomed to, and I find myself hating the attention. "So, no past boyfriends or guys who have tried to hit on you?"

Oh, lovely. Just what every girl hopes their crush will ask them. As if I want to admit to him that guys just don't seem interested in me. There may have been one guy in Thailand who caught my fancy, but it meant next to nothing. Basically, we were just friends who labeled ourselves as something more without ever really acting on it.

Maybe there's just something about me that repulses guys. Am I not girly enough? Dramatic enough? Fashionable enough? Do I need to cake my face with animal products in order to grab a guy's attention? Do I need to traipses around on nine-inch heels to give the false visual that my legs go on forever?

"Look," I say, shaking off my insecurity and forcing myself to look Jamie directly in the eye. "I'm not really interested in talking about boys and crushes with you. I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty, but it doesn't matter. None of this matters because you don't have feelings for me, and I'm not keen on talking feelings with someone who doesn't share mine. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, of—"

"So, how about you just ignore my feelings—truthfully, that's what I'd prefer—because we are friends and only friends—as you've so clearly pointed out. So, if we're going to be friends then treat me like a friend. I want your respect. I want to know that you care for me as a friend, but don't drag me around like a lost puppy who's only good for licking at your wounds. I refuse to pity you anymore. Got it." I know I'm being harsh and maybe a little unsympathetic, but enough is enough. He can't just keep using me to make himself feel better. I was prepared to let him lean on me in the beginning, but I guess I ran out of patience for that. It's time for him to learn to walk on his own.

He nods once. "Got it." The shock slowly diminishes from his features to reveal an awestruck smile. "You know, I've never had someone stand up to me the way you have. It's actually kinda hot."

I shake my head in disappointment as I slump into my chair with a sigh. "What did I literally just say? You can't use words like beautiful or hot when referring to me. I swear, if you compliment me one more time, I will jump across this table and maul you with my mouth."

"Well," Jamie laughs, "we wouldn't want that."

"No," I correct. "You wouldn't want that... though I did spend my childhood practicing my kisses on my mirror, so there's a high possibility that you're missing out on something spectacular and life-changing."

"Hah!" He barks. "I guess we'll only know when and if that time comes."

"Come on!" I moan. "You have got to stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" he laughs.

"Giving me false hope." I slap my palm to my forehead in playful annoyance. "You will never like me in that way—may I remind you that those are your words—so stop flirting with me, stop making me dream of possibilities that you'll never make happen, and stop making me feel beautiful. I don't want to feel beautiful around you."

"You don't?"

"No!" I whisper-shout. "Because when I feel beautiful, then I become bold. There's a chance I might do something you'd regret if you keep making me feel pretty. I think from now on, I'm just going to wear frumpy clothes and pigtails when I'm around you."

"Pigtails?"

"Yes," I say with a firm nod. "Pigtails never feel sexy, so there's no chance I'd ever kiss you while wearing granny clothes and pigtails."

"You are so... strange." He laughs, scratching the rim of his ear.

"Oh, but you love me," I tease with a flirty smile.

"As a friend," he adds, his smile matching my own.

"Right," I agree. "We're just friends who love each other."

And then I scoot from my seat and make my way behind the counter before Jamie has a chance to correct the playful implication behind my words.

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Keep an eye out for VERY regular updates from now on. I've already finished the book but I like to edit a teeny bit while I post, which is why I'm not posting the rest of the book all at once. :D

Speaking of which, I've already found some plot holes in the story *cries* (BOOO!!!) If you find anything that doesn't make sense, feel free to point it out. Lol :p