The Magic of Christmas

Chapter Twenty-One - Averi

From the moment the tears begin, I know they're not going to end anytime soon, so the best thing I can do is get out of there as soon as possible. 

Minimize the damage as much as I can. 

It's humiliating enough that I just screamed my feelings to him in front of some of my closest peers, but for him to see me cry about it? 

I'd die. 

Blindly, I race down the hallway until I see the bathroom doors, pausing for only a fraction of a second before throwing them open and pushing into a stall. 

On the opposite corner of the small space, I hear a toilet flush, so I know somebody else is in here, but I can't bring myself to care. 

I can't bring myself to care about anything anymore. 

Caring only gets me into the situation I'm in now. 

I was stupid. 

Stupid for admitting my feelings aloud to him. 

Stupid for thinking he'd actually earned that 'A.' 

Stupid for thinking that, maybe, possibly he'd fall for me like I'd fallen for him. 

I'm just another girl to him, just another girl that he was going to get to fall for him just to humiliate her and move onto the next. 

I don't know what I was thinking. 

By about the tenth sniffle and fourth shuddering sob, a tiny knock sounds on the outside of my stall door, followed by a frail, female voice. 

"Are you okay in there?" 

"Fine," I sniffle again, swiping my nose across my sleeve, "You can go back to class." 

"I'd rather not," the voice replies, "Are you sure you're okay?" 

I know the voice sounds familiar, know that I've heard it before, but right now, I can't place it. 

Clenching my eyes shut to better focus, I say, "I'm okay." 

"Why don't you come out here and talk about it? Your secret is safe with me, I promise." 

I know who the voice is. 

Natalie. 

I would never, for any amount of money in the world, vent my problems to her because by the end of the day, the entire school would know. 

I might be stupid, but I'm not that stupid. 

"No, thank you," I say instead of saying what I really want to, "I'm just going to cry it off." 

It's silent for so long that I think she might've left, but after a tiny clearance of her voice she says, "I'm coming in now, okay?" 

I didn't even realize that I didn't lock the stall door. 

I guess, though, it was kind of her to not barrel straight in to see who I was and why I was crying. 

She'd kept my privacy. 

For the most part, I think to myself before the stall door slides slowly open, revealing her on the other side, bright, blue eyes wide. 

When she notices it's me hovered on the floor, pathetically crying, her eyes only get wider. 

"Averi," she asks, not unkindly, "What's wrong?" 

At the sight of her, it's like my tears shrivel up and disappear. I'm still sad, of course, but my tears won't come out to show it.