The time has come to step out into that abyss of the unknown and hope for the best. I've already convinced myself that I can either sit by drowning in my desire to confront a certain boy, or I can toughen up and actually make an effort. What's the worst that could happen? I've seen him interact with enough people to realize that our five years apart didn't turn him into a cruel person. He wouldn't reject me for simply speaking to him... right?

With my determination on high, and my mind floating somewhere in the clouds of hope, I make my way towards Jamie Gallagher. We both have free period at this hour, and after a little hunting, I finally find him in the library. He's sitting on the floor in the furthest hidden corner, tapping away on his phone, so he doesn't notice me when I first walk up to him.

"Hi, Jamie," I mutter when his eyes finally do flicker up to mine.

"Hey." He looks surprised, but his eyes remain on me as he carefully slides his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

A suffocating blanket of doom settles around my chest, spreading into the air between us. This was a bad idea. I honestly can't even bring myself to utter a word around the thickness blocking my vocal chords.

Jamie's eyes narrow, watching me like a wolf zeroing in on its prey. "What's up?" he asks, the tone of his voice hovering somewhere between disinterest and caution.

"Nothing," I say, finding courage and taking a seat beside him, both of our backs against the wall as we lounge on the carpeted floor between two bookshelves. "It's been awhile, huh?"

Jamie's face hardens as he stares accusingly at me. I take a deep breath, preparing myself to be vulnerable with the boy beside me—even though the chances of him taking advantage of my openness could ultimately destroy me.

"Look," I say, turning to face him slightly, desperation tinging my words, "you can hate me all you want—"

"Good."

"—But, I just really need to say all this before I lose the chance." I keep my gaze on him, searching his eyes for any sign that he's opening up or softening. I'm not surprised when I see his glare harden further, his expression grim as he waits. "I'm really sorry," I almost whisper, glancing at my hands before returning my attention to his face. "I never meant to just walk away. You were my best friend and I made a huge mistake that I'll never be able to take back. But, is there any chance you could let me try?"

He's clearly not convinced. Instead, he tears his eyes from me, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazes down the aisle in front of us.

"I—"

"You know what my problem is?" He says, cutting me off as heat and passion coat his words. He turns to face me, his face hard and unreadable—though the anger radiating from him is nearly palpable. "It's not that you left. It's how you left."

"I know," I admit, head bent in shame. "I get that completely. I handled things all wrong."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" His voice softens with the question, a pinch of hurt eating at the confusion and animosity in his gaze.

"I wanted to," I explain. "But, the moment my mom got news that my grandma's health was declining, she booked our flights and we were gone. When we got to Thailand, it was just pure chaos that first week... and with the twelve hour time difference, I kept missing the opportunity to call you."

"That's a weak excuse," he spits, pulling his knees toward his chest and resting his forearms on them. "You could have left a message or a text. Good grief," He sighs noisily through his nose, "it's not as if we live in the stone age. We have options now. Heck! You could have written me a freakin' letter. But no, you left me to worry about you—banging on your door, calling you, texting you, asking around about you—and you didn't even have the decency to tell me you weren't even in the country!"

Okay, so this wasn't at all how I'd imagined this taking place. If anything, I figured he'd just shut me out completely. I thought it'd be like talking to a brick wall... not a hungry lion. It appears he's waited a long time to get this all out. He's not yelling, but the hushed rage ravaging from his lips tells the truth about his feelings.

"Look," I say, understanding his outburst while simultaneously feeling my hackles raise up in defense. "I accept every ounce of loathing you have towards me. Your feelings are entirely normal, and I don't for one second blame you for hating me. You should. I was a total jerk. Fact! But," I argue, "I'm not the same person I once was. I've grown up. I've learned from my mistakes. Gosh, I was just a stupid kid back then. I just hoped that by apologizing, you might be willing to start fresh."

"And just forget what you did to me?"

"No," I hurry to say. "Not at all. But, maybe over time, you could learn to trust me again..." I scratch the side of my cheek before dropping it and shoving my hands between my thighs and peering up at Jamie. "...maybe you could forgive me. Baby steps?"

I expect him to laugh in my face. I expect a condescending smile to stretch across his hard face, malice dripping from his expression as he pins me to the floor with his gaze. But instead, he drops his eyes to the floor, thoughts swirling through his mind in a way that is almost visible. And then he tilts his head back, resting it against the wall behind him with a heavy groan-filled sigh.

"So, what was that ice cream you served me?" His voice is flat, lacking any sense of energy or care, but the fact that he's trying to converse has my jaw nearly smacking the floor.

It takes me a moment to twist my thoughts around so that I'm no longer on the defensive. I feel a smile tugging at my lips, though his face remains placid. I remember back to the day in the ice cream parlor when we'd been forced to converse for the first time in five years.

"Did you not like it?" I ask, humor woven into the question.

"Eh." he shrugs. "It was weird. Maybe an acquired taste, but not bad." He stops, dropping his gaze as the faintest of smiles flickers over his features. "What flavor was it?"

Hope swells beneath my chest, and it's hard to conceal my euphoria as I answer with a tight voice, "Thai tea."

"Um...okay?"

"It's a popular drink in Thailand, and some places have turned it into ice cream," I explain. "When I brought up the idea to my manager, he thought it sounded fun to try. So, I've been trying to convince as many customers as possible to try it and hopefully fall in love with it so we can keep it in stock."

"Hmmm."

I glance over at him to find his eyes shut as he relaxes against the wall. I'm not sure if he's just tolerating the conversation or not, but his scowl is gone for now, and I take that as a good sign.

"You don't have to order it again," I tell him. "It's not even my favorite ice cream. I just simply like the little taste of home that it offers."

"Well," he says, "You might not know me very well anymore," his eyes pop open and he tilts his head down to eye me, "but I'm not against giving things a second chance." Then he pushes himself up from the wall, hesitating as he tilts his head in my direction. "Or people."

And then he's sauntering down the aisle and disappearing around the corner.

I sit there motionless, actions tugging at my brain until I finally kick myself into gear. I jump from my seat, dragging my bag from the floor and slinging it over my shoulder. The bell has yet to ring, so I know I've got a little time left.

I forage the halls for his familiar blonde head, but he's gone. Vanished into thin air... or possibly the restroom. Either way, there's no way I'll find him before the period ends. Giving up, I glide my way towards my next class, my mind muddled by the euphoric swirls of optimism that have taken up residence there.

Maybe, just maybe, I've got a shot at righting my wrongs after all.

——— 

My mom is a receptionist at a doctor's office, so when the doctors have to work late, so does she. Unfortunately for me, this means I'm on dinner duty tonight. Let's just say, I despise cooking. If I could order in every day of my life, I'd gladly do so. The thing is, my mom is very set in her ways. She prefers to know exactly what she's eating. She doesn't like the idea of hidden ingredients that could be harmful, like MSG—which is huge in Thailand—or artificial flavorings and colors. They make her uncomfortable, and she swears on her life that they're the core cause of cancer. Honestly, she could be right, but gosh dang it, why do they have to taste so good?

I decide on a simple stir fry, since it's the only dish I know how to make without a recipe, and then settle in on the couch to watch 'The Emperor's New Groove'. Truthfully, I'd rather watch a good horror, but I'm home alone and would prefer not to scare myself mindless before my dad gets here.

He arrives twenty minutes later, and since he absolutely loves anything animated, he grabs a plate of food and settles in beside me. He pats my knee, sending me a small smile as his way of silently saying 'hello' and then we both turn our attention to the movie.

Dad's usually a stickler for eating around the dinner table like a decent family. My mom doesn't know my dad's weakness to cartoons. If she did, she'd probably pop in a Disney flick every night just so we could sit in front of the TV while we ate. But since I happen to enjoy some of our chats around the dinner table, I keep my mouth shut. It makes father-daughter moments like this that much more enjoyable.

"You got any homework?" my dad asks halfway through the movie.

"Yep."

I watch him glance at his watch and then shrug. Guess he's not too concerned.

Once the movie's over and the kitchen is cleaned up, I head upstairs to complete the dreaded ritual of homework. I end up falling asleep laying sideways across my bed with my lights on. My mom wakes me up around midnight after noticing my light on and helps my groggy self into bed. With a kiss to the forehead, she sends me a goodnight and shuts my door.

I dream about Jamie. It's not much of a dream. I mean, nothing to get too excited about. I'm watching him play football—which is weird because I'm pretty sure he doesn't play the game—and he keeps tripping. I'm on the sidelines laughing, like the complete jerk that I am, until suddenly he notices and begins running towards me with ghostlike speed. My heart matches the tempo of his steps, beating a panicked fist against my chest.

My face slackens with horror as he draws closer, not bothering to slow down. I try to take a step back to avoid a collision, but I'm stuck in place. And then he's tackling me like he'd tackle an opponent, and suddenly I'm free-falling through space, tall buildings ascending around me as I drop into a black abyss.

And then I wake up.

I roll away from the light pouring into my window. I dread mornings and my mood doesn't hide the fact. I grumble most of the way through Tuesday, finding gratefulness only when it ends.

When Wednesday finally rolls in, a lightness takes over my attitude. I've never been more excited to go to school in my life. I even greet the sun with a brilliant smile of my own. Even Justine questions me on my behavior when I simply offer a smile of greeting when we happen to bump into each other before classes.

I knew I had a crush on Jamie prior to our chat on Monday, but now my heart is in a frenzy, fluttering and palpitating at just the thought of him. What in the freakin' heck is wrong with me? I want to reprimand my hormones for being so weak, but what can a girl do? It's a flaw of ours. We smell a certain cologne or see a guy with a particular eye color, or a unique sense of humor, and suddenly the chemicals in our body turn into a swarm of chaotic emotions.

This guy smiled at me—I love him.

This guy cherishes his grandma—I love him.

This guy rescued three dogs, four kittens, nine turtles, and a cockatoo—I love him.

We're silly creatures, and yet... we're fabulous. Girls are fabulous in their weirdness. We just have to keep ourselves in check. No sense in getting all creepy just because a guy opens a door for us. Gentlemanliness should be common sense. Falling in love with a someone for being polite would be insane... because I've met many polite males in my lifetime and it'd be exhausting to have to love them all.

But, I haven't met someone with Jamie's level of politeness before. He cares about people. He doesn't flex his accomplishments and skills in front of people in order to gain recognition. He's the silent type of perfect. He's my kind of perfect. And though he's shown me nothing but a cold shoulder since the day I returned, Monday I got to see his true self. The softhearted side of him. He loathes me, and yet, he's putting his bitterness on hold in order to give me a chance.

And there I go again, pushing my girly scale to its very max. Yeah, yeah, nobody's perfect. I get it. But Jamie is nice, funny, handsome, and well-built. Most guys don't have the whole package, but he's the exception... at least, he acts that way with his friends.

I'm just trying to figure out if it's normal to fall for a guy based on the way he treats everyone else but me. Because I've most certainly fallen for a guy who could care less if I came or went. Pathetic? Maybe.

When fifth period finally arrives, my heart skips a happy beat all the way to the library. I get settled in the same corner as last time and pull out my phone. Gotta at least look busy, right? I send a text to Justine and another to Rosa, though I know I won't get a response from either, and then proceed to play 'Township' until Jamie arrives.

He spots me the moment he rounds the corner and I can almost hear the silent groan rolling up his throat. He drops his head back on his shoulders, rolling it around in disappointment, before lifting his gaze back up to meet mine, a forced smile in place.

"Hey," he greets, voice monotone as he settles in beside me, leaving an embarrassing amount of space between us. Just rub it in, why don't ya?

"I'm crashing your quiet time, aren't I?" I question, digging through my backpack for a pack of gum. I offer him a piece as I shove one in my mouth, but he declines with a shake of his head.

"It's fine," he says, his mannerisms and vocal intonations saying otherwise. "Feel free to stick around, but I've got work to do."

I watch as he pulls a textbook from his bag and flips it open.

"You know," I start to say, "when someone offers you gum, you should always take it. That's what my dad says anyway."

"Why's that?" he asks, not letting his eyes drift from his homework.

"Because, there's usually a reason they offered."

Jamie's eyes flicker to mine, probing and searching before he drops his gaze back to his work. "Why?" he mutters. "You saying my breath stinks?"

"No," I hurry to say and then pause with a shrug. "Well, maybe a little."

I watch Jamie close his textbook while keeping his pointer finger between the pages so he doesn't lose his place. "That's fine," he says, mimicking my shrug. "Because I have no intention of kissing you or even impressing you, so my breath really isn't an issue, is it?"

I can't help but smile, a small hum leaving my lips in response.

He grows silent beside me, his brows creased in concentration as he reads. I grin at his profile, chomping noisily on my gum. I exaggerate the movements of my jaw, irritating myself with the nerve-gritting sound, but just continue on.

"Would you... shut up?" Jamie's words are hushed, but clearly edging towards passionate annoyance.

"Yes," I say, crossing my arms. "As soon as you give me your attention, I'll shut up." He eyes me with an exhausted droop in his features. "Listen, I'm here to make things rights. There's no way I can do that when you're blocking me out. Just... give me some time to prove to you that I'm still that friend you once had." I pause, my eyes urging him to agree. "Please."

With another deep sigh, he flips his book shut and shoves it to the floor.

"Fine."

"So," I begin, feeling an odd wave of insecurity wash over me. "You've changed."

"Since when?" he asks, glancing at me sideways with one quirked brow. "Since seventh grade... uh, yeah. I'd say I've changed. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Well, I see that," I say, blatantly scanning his filled-out form so he understands what I'm referring to. "I'm talking about here," I say, pointing at my temple. "It's like you're a different person."

"And you've gathered this information from the two times we've spoken since you've been back?"

"Uh, yeah," I nod firmly. "You used to be this fidgety, kinda quiet kid. Now you're this popular, stunt-devil."

"What can I say?" He shrugs, glancing away from me as he stretches his legs out in front of him. "People change."

Silence fills the air for a moment. I watch him, analyzing the shift of unease wafting off of him. I can sense something deeper beneath the surface. Like he's a chest that's been securely locked to conceal his many secrets. I guess we all have secrets to some extent, but I get the feeling he's hiding something from me... intentionally.

"I miss you," I find myself saying softly, staring at the floor to bypass the scrutiny in his gaze.

I can see his head jerk upwards from my periphery, pinning me in place. It's like his eyes are ice lasers, freezing the breath in my lungs. I know I shouldn't have said it. I wanted him to know how I felt, but I understand that I may have just made things worse. When you hurt someone and then push that hurt away in hopes that they'll just get over it or forget it, then they usually don't react well. He's not ready to forget what I did to him.

"Sorry," I mutter, flattening my back against the shelf behind me and straightening my spine. "I know I handled things poorly back then. I sort of figured that things would just start back where we left off, but that was really naive of me."

"Lynn." The sound of my name floating from his lips has my head swinging in his direction, warmth scurrying through my veins. "I forgive you. I mean, honestly, I got over it long ago. But, that doesn't mean that we can be friends like we once were. We're both entirely different people now. We can't just start where we left off because those two people don't exist anymore. Does that make sense?" His eyes almost plead for me to understand but he doesn't give me a chance to respond. "I don't hate you. I mean, I kind of wanted to for awhile, but the truth is, I can't. We're human and we both made mistakes. Besides, you were gone for almost five years. Even if we'd parted ways on good terms, I'm pretty sure we still would have drifted. What we had as kids is gone."

His words are so final. Depressing.

I sigh, dropping my head back against the bookshelf behind me as I gaze up at the ceiling. I should feel grateful that he's over it all. I should feel relieved that I've earned his forgiveness. But, I don't. Because I'm selfish. I want more. It's not about my silly crush on him. It's the fact that I'm stubborn and I'm not happy until I've gotten what I want. What I want right now is a chance to start over, so I voice this option to Jamie.

He eyes me for a moment, searching for sincerity in my request and then groans once as he shakes his head side to side.

"I can't believe I'm going through with this," he says, the faintest of smiles fluttering across his lips, "but yes. I'm willing to start over. Just try not to be too disappointed when you realize I'm not the same guy you remember."

My face is beaming by now and I'm nodding my head in agreement before he even finishes his sentence. "Yes, yes. I'll pretend that Monday was the very first time we ever met. I'll ignore everything about our past and start fresh as if we're brand new friends."

"Good." Jamie grins at me, and my breath turns to smoke in my lungs. I clear my throat, trying to distract my thoughts from the beauty of his smile.

"Actually," I revert. "I should probably start this new friendship off honestly. So, if I'm being entirely honest, there's no way I'm going to forget the old you. And I'll probably irritate the crap out of you by bringing up old memories. So, I hope you can handle that because I won't be able to help myself. But," I hurry to add. "That doesn't mean this can't work. With time, I'll just have to learn who the new you is."

Our chatter is slightly more light-hearted for the remainder of the period, but we don't bother getting too in depth. When the bell rings, we pack up our stuff, and Jamie even mutters a 'see ya' as he heads down the aisle. Just as he reaches the end of the bookshelves, I call his name, stopping him in his tracks. He turns to face me, his hand resting on the edge of the metal shelf.

"See you, same place, same time, on Friday?"

A smile lifts his lifts—it's not much, but it brings a lightness to my heart—and then he nods once before disappearing. My face is beaming the rest of the day. I'm sure I resemble a child high off Pixy Stix, but it can't be helped.

Hope is like the sun on the horizon, just now peeking its head up and basking my world in light. Watch out Jamie Gallagher, because I'm a determined person, and when I sense possibility, I don't give up.

---

Yay, they finally talked! How do you feel about their interactions so far? :) 

Now that they've finally agreed to be civil and put some effort into working out their problems, the story is going to be getting a bit more exciting. Can't wait!

This chapter was only loosely edited, so sorry for any mistakes.

Btw, I know I'm a day late, but MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! <3