Anvaila Emerson, a vibrant party lover, juggles her crush on Kevin Diaz, the basketball team captain, and the return of mysterious Austin Smith to senior year. Caught in a high school drama, Anvaila faces the complexities of emotions, friendships, a...
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I stammered, but before I could finish, a tear slid down my cheek. I tried to swallow it back, but it was too late. The lump in my throat had grown too large, choking off my words. I felt as if my chest were bound too tightly, every breath a struggle to keep it all together.
Rachel appeared out of nowhere, concern painted across her face. “Vinny, why are you crying here on the roadside?” Her voice was soft, but it felt like a lifeline in the storm swirling inside me. She didn’t wait for me to answer, just wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into the warmth of her body. It was a sharp contrast to the cold that had seeped into my bones.
I buried my face into her shoulder, muffling the sobs that had begun to shake me. She held me tighter, not saying a word, just letting her presence steady me.
“I’m so tired, Rachel,” I finally whispered, my voice trembling. “Tired of pretending everything’s fine. Tired of keeping it all inside.”
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, brushing a tear-soaked strand of hair from my face. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” she said softly. “You’re stronger than this, Vinny. You’ve always been stronger than you think.”
I wanted to believe her, to cling to that hope, but all I could feel was the weight of everything bearing down on me, pressing me into the ground. I wiped at my face, trying to pull myself together, but the tears kept coming. I don’t know when it all became too much. Maybe it was gradual—a little more weight added every day until I just... cracked. Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am, how I can handle everything. But what if I don’t want to be strong anymore? What if I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not?
I try so hard to be enough for everyone, to keep it all together, but deep down I know I’m not. Not for my mom, not for Kevin, not even for myself. I’m so tired of fighting battles that I didn’t ask for—tired of being the one who always has to smile and say, ‘I’m fine,’ when I’m breaking inside.
Kevin... God, Kevin. I don’t even know what we are anymore. One minute, it feels like maybe there’s something real between us, and the next, I’m just a joke to him. He doesn’t stand up for me. He just... watches. And I hate him for it. But more than that, I hate myself for still caring. I hate that I keep hoping he’ll be the person I’ve built up in my head, but he never is.
