31

As I walk down the corridor of the school, I spot Tom staring at me. I stare at the floor and keep walking. Just as I'm thinking, Okay, you can calm down now, that I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"We need to talk," Tom says.

"Yes, we do," I reply. "Now?"

"How about after school?" Tom suggests. "We can walk to the park and talk there."

"Yes, that sounds good," I say. "I'll see you later, then."

I walk away, and I realize that my heart is beating uncontrollably. I take a few deep breaths to steady its beat before I enter my classroom.

Needless to say, I don't pay attention. Sure, I try to take notes and concentrate, but my mind seems fixated on one sole thought: Tom. It's still two hours until I have to meet him, but I'm already really nervous. My stomach is hurting, and I can't sit still for a moment. I keep fiddling with my pen or biting my nails.

By the time the last bell rings I honestly feel like I could puke, but I force myself to walk to the park. I sit on a bench – the one that Tom and I would always sit on – and wait. Only a few seconds pass before I see him strolling toward me. For some reason, I straighten up and sigh as he sits down next to me. I notice that our thighs are touching, but apparently, Tom notices too because he moves away from me.

"So," Tom says.

"So," I repeat.

"Look, I'm sorry," Tom says. "That dare was the stupidest thing I've ever done. I regret ever being a part of it, and I mean it. From the bottom of my heart."

"I believe you," I say. "And I forgive you. It was something in the past, and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. After all, it did bring us together." I instinctively placed my hand on his.

"Thank you, but," he pulled his hand away from mine. "But I think we should break up anyway."

At that moment my worst fear comes true. My stomach is hurting more than ever, and I don't think it's because of my period. My heart feels heavy in my chest, and my lungs seem to have frozen. Tears fill my eyes, but I blink a few times to make them go away.

"You were right," Tom continues. "Our relationship was born over a lie. I've been thinking a lot about this, and I think it's the best thing for us."

"Tom…" I say, tears now threatening to fall. "I – I don't… I love you."

Tom sighs. "You don't know how hard it is for me to do this. But… it's the right thing to do. If we're going to be together, it should be from the beginning, completely. No setups," Tom says.

"No…" I say, but it's now barely a whisper. "Tom, please…"

"I'm sorry, Emma," he says and stands up. "I have to go. I'm sorry," he stands up and leaves.

I look at him leave, and suddenly it all crashes down on me. I cover my eyes with my hands and let the tears fall. I'm now sobbing loudly, and I'm sure people are now staring at me in confusion, but I don't care.

I finally stand up, get my bag, and leave. I even cry on the bus, but fortunately, my stop is not far. As I arrive home I run to my room and lock myself in. With my face on the pillow, I cry until my pillow is damp and my eyes are empty. I even yell in frustration a few times.

I feel so empty. Alone. I don't know what to do. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to eat, and I don't want to read. But at the same time, I want to do something. Am I the only one that has that feeling?

I'm so depressed that I even consider suicide. It's not serious – it just passed through my head – but I just feel so hopeless.

My mother tries to talk to me, but I just tell her to leave me alone. She tries to bring me food, but I'm not hungry.

I feel awful. During those two afternoon hours of school, one of my fears was having to break up with Tom, but I immediately pushed it out of my head. I just didn't seem real that the guy I loved would want to break up with me: I was sure he loved me back. But, when we talked, I noticed he didn't say 'I love you' back. It's a little thing, but it hurt.

For the first time in my life, I cry myself to sleep.

I'll admit, I kind of let go. I stop paying attention to my looks, so much so that I go to school with a baggy sweatshirt and some leggings. I tie my hair up in a messy bun, and I don't wear any more makeup or jewelry. The other students look at me weirdly, but I don't care.

It's actually kind of nice: people avoid me and let me read.

Only Karen is insistent. "Emma, pull yourself together! Forget about him! He's just a stupid, idiotic boy!"

"He was perfect," I counter. "He was the man of my dreams."

"Your dreams are fucked up, then," Karen jokes, and I laugh. "There are tons of other guys like him around, maybe even better guys. You just have to move your ass and go find them."

"I just can't seem to forget him," I explain. "I try to let him go, but he's always on my mind. I keep thinking about what I could have done differently."

"You can't do anything differently. You're perfect," Karen tells me. "He's the one who made the mistake, not you. The only thing you have to do now is to forget about him."

"You're right. I know you're right, but this stupid heart won't get the message," I say as I slap my chest.

"You just need time. Trust me, after a few days you'll even forget his name," Karen reassures me.

I chuckle. "Thanks, Karen."

"No problem. Now please put on some decent clothes," she begs. "I want you here tomorrow with tight jeans, a shirt that shows off your breasts, combed hair, and makeup. Guys should drool, okay?"

"Okay," I say smiling.

I follow Karen's instructions. I take a shower and comb my hair. I wear tight jeans and a V-neck shirt. I put on blue earrings, a necklace, and makeup.

Unfortunately, guys don't drool, but I do turn a lot of heads. I certainly feel happier after I see Tom staring at me.

"Emma, you look amazing!" Karen exclaimed as she sees me. "I heard one guy say, 'Holy shit, she's hot'."

"Aw, how sweet," I say sarcastically. "And did you see how Tom was looking at me?"

"He was?" Karen asks confused. "I didn't notice that."

"Really? He was looking straight at me," I counter.

"Whatever you say, Emma," she answers, but she doesn't look sincere. "Come on, let's go to class."

I enjoy the feeling of being pretty again, but I think I'm a little bit too much at the center of attention. After all, I do have social anxiety.

I try to ignore the stares and just go on with my day. I sometimes find myself smiling at some guy looking at me, and sometimes I even wave. But it's strange. It's not me. I convince myself that this is just a post-breakup phase. I feel pretty and awesome and attractive. But I'm sure it's not going to last.

Sure enough, as soon as I get home I undress and change into some baggy clothes. I untie my hair and let it fall onto my shoulders. Finally, I throw myself onto the bed and read for an hour, just until my mother comes home.

"Hello, Emma. How's it going?" my mother says in the usual pity-voice.

"Actually really good, mom," I answer confidently, and I can hear the change of tone in my mother's voice.

"Really? Something happen at school?" she asks.

"Not really. But I'm over Tom. I'm okay," I say.

"Oh, that's amazing!" my mother exclaims. "I was so worried about you."

"Yeah, Karen and I talked, and she convinced me to forget about him," I explain.

My mother kissed my forehead. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, mom. I'll be upstairs," I say before going back to my bedroom. I close the door and rethink my words.

I'm over Tom. I'm okay, I had said. And for the first time in days, I actually believe that.