(Play When She Cries by Restless Heart)
The cardboard box sat open on Rye’s bed, a monument to a love that had faded. Inside, a jumble of memories: a worn red hoodie, a wilted bouquet of tulips, a lopsided painting of fingerprints they’d paint together. Each item whispered a forgotten story, a ghost of a shared moment.
Rye pulled on the red hoodie, its worn fabric a familiar comfort against her skin. It was the one he’d given her on their first anniversary, a celebration that now felt like a lifetime ago. She sank onto the bed, the familiar scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric, a bittersweet reminder of what was lost. The world around her blurred, the walls of her room merging into a hazy canvas of grief.
Tears streamed down her face, silent sobs shaking her body. She cried until her throat was raw, until her eyes were swollen shut, until exhaustion finally claimed her.
Morning arrived, a cruel reminder of the day ahead. She forced a smile, a practiced mask that concealed the storm raging within. She knew she had to act normal, to pretend everything was okay, but the charade felt heavy, a burden she carried with each step.
Her grandfather, a beacon of love and support, played “With a Smile” by Eraserheads on the radio. The song, once a soundtrack to their shared joy, now echoed with a painful irony. She could almost hear his voice, his laughter, his warm embrace, and the memories threatened to drown her.
The car ride to school was a blur of passing scenery, each passing moment a struggle to maintain her façade. Another day of pretending, another day of enduring the weight of her heartbreak.
As she walked through the school gates, the familiar sights and sounds of her high school life felt strangely muted, a backdrop to her internal turmoil. She saw her friends, their faces bright with laughter and chatter, and a wave of envy washed over her. They seemed so carefree, so oblivious to the pain that consumed her.
She greeted them with a forced smile, cracking a joke, a practiced routine that had become a shield against the world. But even her friends, who knew her so well, couldn’t penetrate the wall she had erected. They were tired of her jokes, of her attempts to distract from the truth.
In the bathroom, she finally allowed herself to crumble. The tears came again, a torrent of grief that she could no longer hold back. The bathroom stall became her sanctuary, a place where she could finally let go of the pretense, where she could finally be her true self, broken and raw.
As she left the bathroom, she felt a sliver of strength, a flicker of hope. She knew she wouldn’t be okay overnight, but she also knew that she wouldn’t let this heartbreak define her. She would keep moving forward, one day at a time, learning to live with the scars of her past, and finding the courage to love again.
(Play Thru These Tears by Lany)
With a sense of purpose, she straightened her shoulders and walked towards her friend Lei’s classroom. She needed to see Lei, to talk to her.
Rye’s heart lurched. She couldn’t believe it. Dwayne. Her ex. Right here, in the hallway, just a few feet away. But it wasn’t just him. Beside him, her hand instinctively clenching into a fist, stood Elly.
Elly, the girl Dwayne had been seeing after their breakup, the girl Rye had been irrationally jealous of, the girl who had become a symbol of everything she’d lost.
The sight of them together, so close, so familiar, sent a wave of emotions crashing over her. The hurt, the anger, the lingering love, all tangled together in a painful knot. She stopped in her tracks, her heart aching.
Dwayne turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her. A flicker of something crossed his face, a mixture that Rye never know.
But Rye couldn’t face him. Not now, not with Elly standing right there. The memory of their last conversation, the hurt in his eyes, the way he had seemed to move on so easily, all came flooding back.
She couldn’t bear to see the smug look on Elly’s face, the way she seemed to bask in the attention he was giving her. It was too much, too raw.
So, Rye did the only thing she could think of. She pretended not to see them. She kept her gaze fixed on the classroom door, her steps measured and deliberate, as if she hadn’t noticed them standing just a few feet away.
Dwayne seemed to hesitate, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “Rye,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Rye’s breath hitched. She knew she couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn around, to face them.
“Oh, hey,” she said, her voice strained. She forced herself to look at him, her gaze brief and fleeting. “Didn’t see you there.”
Dwayne seemed to hesitate, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “I…I came to see Lei,” he stammered. “We have a project to finish.” He gestured towards the classroom, his eyes avoiding hers.
Rye’s gaze drifted to the classroom door, then back to Dwayne. She knew he was telling the truth, but the sight of them, so close, so familiar, stirred something within her.
“Right,” she said, her voice flat. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more. She couldn’t look at him, not yet.
She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She had come so far, she had faced her pain, and she wouldn't let this encounter derail her progress. She would move forward, one step at a time.
She pushed open the classroom door, a wave of relief washing over her as she stepped inside. Lei, her best friend, looked up from her desk, her face brightening.
"Rye!" she exclaimed. "You're here! I was just about to text you."
Rye forced a smile, trying to bury the knot of tension that still resided in her stomach. "Hey," she said. "I just needed to talk to you."
She knew that the encounter with Dwayne and Elly had only just begun, but for now, she needed to focus on her friends, on her own healing. She would deal with the ghosts of her past, one day at a time.
