We were sitting together in the closet we often hid in during lunch. The ground was cold and the air was silent. His sunglasses reflected nothing of the small room in the dim light.
"Scott?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
He grabbed my hand in his and squeezed our palms together. "I love you too."
I looked back at his face, studying his expression. He was happy.
"No."
"No, what?"
"No you don't."
"I don't what?"
"Love me."
"What are you talking about, Oli?" He pulled his hand back and put it in his lap, his eyebrows furrowed over his frames and I could feel his red gaze on me.
"I wish the universe would just take me back to November." He stayed silent, confused. "We were happy in November. I was naive in November."
"You aren't happy now?"
"No. I'm not."
"Why not? Did I do something wrong?"
He maintained a steady stare focused on my face as I looked anywhere but towards him.
"No."
"Ok good. Then what is it?"
"It wasn't something, Scott. It was a lot of things."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you. Here with me."
He looked to the wall on his left. Silence on his part.
"I knew I wasn't good enough for you. But I was naive. In November. I knew I would lose you. I tried so hard to keep you it ended up hurting me more than losing you forever."
"You didn't lose me forever. I waved"
"And I didn't wave back. I'm stupid. You were always high, Scott. Always. I spent a whole day not knowing wether you were alive or not. You didn't even bother to text me. Not once. You fucking dick."
"I needed distance."
"From me."
"No, from everyone."
"Then why was I the only one pushed away? Why was I the only one you ignored? It hurt, Scott."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that. You know it isn't true."
"Then leave. If you hate me so much."
"That's the complicated part. I hate you more than anything, yet I can't keep you out of my head. Everything I look at, everything I taste or smell, tastes like your lips or smells like your washing detergent. I can't escape it. What's wrong with me? You aren't even real." It all faded to my bedroom. I sat in front of my mirror with tears on my cheeks. My face was dark from the mascara I had put on but just five minutes ago.
"See? You aren't here. I'm just a crazy little girl screaming at her mirror. It's been a year, Scott. You're back. And it's wierd. Who are you?"
"I don't even know."
"It's obvious. I used to think I was still in love with you, then I remembered homecoming. Every day with her. You met my parents high as a kite. You had a thing with her. You thought you were cool. In reality you were just an annoying douchebag. You told me you loved me once. I finally worked up the courage to say it to you one day and you didnt even respond. You didn't look at me. You hummed. You turned away. It hurt so bad. My tears were burning my face that cold morning. I had worked up the courage to finally show my feelings for you but it was too late. You grew bored of me quickly. I was just a pastime for you while you could toy around with other girls. And now I'm alone. I depended on you and I haven't been happy since. I can't even hate you because it was all my fault. You were just a nasty trick I fell for." It was quiet. I looked at the mirror. I hugged my knees and stared at my face. I'm beautiful. In a strange, broken way. Who was this person? This person looking at me like I'm a maniac. Fuck them. Fuck that bitch sitting in front of me with her mistakes. I don't deserve them. I dont deserve the experience. I don't deserve the lesson. I don't deserve the short happiness. Left over from November."
I woke up in a cold sweat. It hurt, kinda. Dreaming of him night after night. I knew I had to talk to him. But I'm scared.
