The Silver Heart

14

*slightly sensitive material below- nothing explicit*

I met Brad when I was ten at a summer camp. He roasted marshmallows for me, and at that point Alex already had a crush on him. So really, what else was there to do but like him? He looked like my first book character crush, Edmund Pevensie from the Narnia books.

He moved into my area after I turned eleven. Our parents became friends, and we started spending more time together. He used to tell me all about his crushes on other girls. Most of them went to his middle school, but sometimes he liked girls at my school. One time he had a crush on Alex, and those were the worst two weeks of my life. But I was always supportive, and I always gave him good advice or put in a good word for him. Even though my actions meant that Brad ended up with other girls, I was happy. I was indispensable. He wanted to talk to me.

When we weren't talking in person, Brad and I emailed. I used to check every three minutes to see if I'd gotten a reply from him. And even though most of our emails were pretty short and about fairly mundane things, I thought our correspondence was really romantic.

Sometimes I would try to tell Brad how I felt. A couple of times I actually wrote the words and sent them. But whenever he shut me down I would pretend I hadn't meant it- that my brother had stolen my iPod, or that I'd just said what I had on a dare. I think Brad knew I was lying, but he went along with the lies. And I kept hoping one day he would understand that my loyalty was something rare- something he couldn't get from just anyone else.

I used to dance around my room sometimes singing "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift into a cardboard-tube microphone. I'd pretend I was a famous pop star and I was singing to Brad. In my daydreams he was always impressed with my devotion and my singing voice and confessed that he'd always loved me. 

Then I'd go back to trying to think of good questions to ask him once he actually wanted to talk to me again.

When I was thirteen we started going to the same high school. I started seeing Brad every day- not that he really ever wanted to talk to me. But I reasoned that maybe he just didn't want his friends to know about his feelings for me because they would tease him. We kept emailing, and sometimes he would tell me things he didn't tell other people- about the things he was worried about, the things he needed help with. Sometimes I would help him with his English homework.

And then, just a couple months ago, I'd joined the cross-country team, and Brad had finally seemed to see me. But now- we didn't really talk about too much anymore, did we? Just about his feelings for me, or his lack of feelings for me, or about kissing.

A shiver ran through me as I thought about that. About his hands, going places I didn't want to be touched. About his tongue so far down my throat that I almost choked. About how dirty and wrong I felt once it was over and I was thinking about it in my room. How he'd stop liking me if I said no. None of that was at all like the fairy-tale I'd envisioned. But it was all I had, and somehow I'd convinced myself it was what I needed to hold on to. 

Could Liss be right?

I scoffed. "Obviously not," I said aloud, and grabbed another handful of cheerios. But my hand was shaking a little, and several of the pieces of cereal dropped to the floor and rolled everywhere.

I went to get a paper towel.