Chapter Eight

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I kissed Daniel. Daniel kissed me. Daniel and I kissed. We kissed each other. No matter how many times I repeat that to myself, it doesn't feel real. His lips on mine are permanently etched into my memory, but it seems as if it was all a dream. This isn't supposed to happen, WE aren't supposed to happen. My senior year was supposed to be strictly grades and maybe a friend or two, but not this. A relationship, or whatever this is, was not a part of my plan. Oh God.

I have been holed up in my room avoiding Daniel at all cost since we kissed on Friday. All his calls, texts, voicemails, I've completely ignored. Yet there's nothing I can do but pray that he won't show up to school on today or else I'm in deep shit. Seeing him again will remind me of the feelings I'm attempting to suppress. No matter how much I like Daniel, we can't be a thing.

I like him a lot and from what I've learned, feelings are trouble. Relationships get you hurt because people just leave you even if it's involuntary. I don't need to end up heartbroken like my mother. The thought alone is unbearable, for it to be a reality would be much worse.

"So what you're telling me is that you guys kissed and now you're avoiding him?" Ariel takes a bite of her apple, clarifying the story that I just told her. The situation still seems unreal to me in every sense. It's not that I want to avoid Daniel, that's not the case at all. It's more that I need to do so, to protect myself and him. What would the school think if we were a thing? His reputation would plummet faster than a rock sinking into water. I'm saving both my heart and his reputation. Having a boyfriend is tough, and I've only had one before.

The douchebag made me feel like I was the best thing on earth and was the only girl worth being with, then I caught him cheating at his birthday party. Who invites your girlfriend to your party and cheat on her at the same party? Milo, that's who. One of the perks of moving out of the state is that I'll never have to see him again. EVER.

"You better hope he's not at school because you sit next to him in two classes." I shoot her a look and put my face in my hands.

"Thank you Capitán obvio, you helped me oh so much." I snap at her. Ariel looks at my paper and compares her answers to mine. Concentration hasn't been my strong suit today; I'm surprised that I could even complete my math worksheet. That damn kiss has been the only thing on my mind.

"Deja de ser un llorón. (Stop being a crybaby.)" Ariel retorts before standing and turning in her paper.

What am I going to do if Daniel is at school today? He'll want an explanation for my lack of response. What am I going to say? 'Well Daniel, I'm sorry for not answering any of your ways to contact me. But in my defense, I'm not avoiding you because I want to but rather because it's what we need.' While that makes sense to me, it doesn't make any practical sense to anyone else. Maybe I'm being over dramatic? Is avoiding him really necessary? Yes... Maybe?

Ariel sits back and and calls for my attention by waving a pencil in my face.

"If it comes to it, please don't make me choose." I arch a brow at her and she sighs loudly. "Chris and I are just starting to become a thing and... and with you avoiding Daniel he's bound to go with his best friend and he'll expect me to come with him. Don't make me leave you alone." She explains quietly.

Did Ariel just say what I think she said? Would she really choose Chris over me? Best friends don't do that, right? They don't choose their boyfriends, even though Chris isn't her boyfriend but rather her more than friend, over their best friends. I repeat her words in my head, coming to the conclusion that she would definitely choose Chris over me. I feel hurt in a small way. How could she do that to me? Even she would leave. Wait....I'm being arrogant. Over the past month, Chris and Ariel have been going out on dates, even though they refuse to call it that, and now I'm just expecting her to throw that all away because of my own selfish reasons. I cannot ask that of her.

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