A Recipe for Disaster

i think i'm dumb

When I got home, I collapsed on my bed, tired and angry. Not at anyone this time, just at myself.

How could I not have seen the signs? I thought as I hid my face inside my pillow.

How could I not have noticed my weird obsessive behavior toward him?

How could I not see the strange jealousy I had?

I shook my head as I tried my best to think of anything but him, to do anything but think of the problem, not wanting to actually face it, to actually admit I like him.

It's so weird how in TV shows like Miraculous Ladybug, School of Rock, or Friends, it's obvious when the character liked the other charecter. But when it happens to us, we don't know. We're like blind birds, flying high until someone throws a rock at us. It doesn't make us die completely—sure, there's some pain—but it makes us smarter, makes us more aware of our surroundings.

Sadly, by the time I became aware of my surroundings, it was after a few rocks. A few too many rocks.

Ugh! I'm so dumb! I thought to myself as I screamed in the pillow.

I'm a dumbass!

UGHHH! I once again internally screamed at myself as I took my pillow and hit it against my face until I couldn't feel it.

This whole stupid plan was because I fucking loved him?

I should have never made this plan.

You know what, I'm going to cancel this plan.

I'm just going to end this all thing, I thought, defeated, feeling like I just sukned in a pool full of losers.

I got up from my bed and got my phone to text Ryder, when just when I opened my phone, I got multiple messages from the groupchat, F-R-I-E-N-D-S, a groupchat which featured Joyce, Malerie, Marrissa, and me.

F-R-I-E-N-D-S

JJ (Cocomelon's version):

Amyyyyy!

Amyyyy

AMYY

AMELIA

AMELIA

AMELIA AMALA JADE NOLANNN

NOLANN

AMELIA

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMT

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY

AMY