Chapter 19
Sitting in the back of my Uber ride, I stare out the window, trying to conceal my tears and avoid the driver’s scrutiny.
After he drops me off, I run upstairs as fast as possible, careful not to make too much noise and alert my parents and the Pearsons, who are in the living room watching TV. Now hiding under my covers, the warmth and comfort do nothing to relieve the cramping ache beneath my ribs.
How could this happen? One minute I was dancing and laughing with Theo, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he felt something for me, too.
The next moment, amidst a stadium full of raging fans, everything fell to pieces.
My favorite band played. The energy was palpable, and I saw him with her.
Paige, flawless and confident, kissing him like she was claiming what was hers all along. And Theo didn’t even hesitate.
Why ask me to the concert if he planned to ditch me the moment she appeared? Was this all some elaborate game to humiliate me once more? I replay the memory in my head, desperately seeking an explanation that could bring me peace of mind, but find none.
Tonight seemed perfect—BTS, the band I’ve loved for years, and Theo, the guy who against my better judgment I’ve developed feelings for. And I had hoped he might feel the same.
I toss and turn, wrapping myself tighter in the covers, assuming a fetal position and hugging my pillow close, but I’m too restless to get comfortable.
So this what heartbreak feels like; the insomnia-inducting thoughts, the constant roiling in my stomach, this throbbing ache in my chest that erodes my soul, leaving in its wake a great abyss that nothing can fill it.
I don’t care about school, or dancing, or anything right now.
All I can think about is their kiss, and the foolish hope I allowed myself to feel.
I can’t keep going in circles with him. Something always comes up between us that shatters my spirit, and each time it gets harder to make myself whole again.
There’s a knock on the door. I don’t move, wishing whoever it is to just go away.
“Chrissy? Are you in there?” Theo says. The mere sound of his voice clenches my belly.
“Go away, Theo!” I say from under the blanket. “I don’t want to see you—ever.”
He begs me to let him explain, but I can’t face him. Not like this, with my face red and tear-streaked. He keeps pleading, but I don’t respond.
Finally, I hear the sound of footsteps diminish down the hallway. I’m alone again.
When the well of tears finally runs dry in the morning, I call Stephanie to tell her everything, pouring out every bitter detail, every flicker of hope that was extinguished.
“Sometimes,” Stephanie begins, “people aren’t who we think they are. And sometimes, no matter how much we like someone, they just don’t feel the same way about us. You deserve someone who loves you as you are—not someone who makes you question if you’re enough.”
The ache becomes a little more bearable as her words sink in. I manage a small smile. “Thanks, Steph. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Hey, that’s what best friends are for,” she replies, her tone warm and reassuring. “And for the record, nobody knows you as well as I do, and I think you’re amazing. Don’t let anyone make you feel you’re not.”
Stephanie is so right. I can’t sit here and wallow in despair. I’ve been knocked down before, but I always come back stronger. Maybe all I need is to let go of all the people who make me feel . . . less.
Easier said than done.
The next few days at school pass in a tempest of emotional misery.
I feel like a zombie, lost in my thoughts and drifting through classes with no focus.
It’s hard to care about anything when I keep replaying everything in my head—Theo moving in, the way we laughed together, the tension that built up between us until it was tangible, Paige’s party, the concert .
. . could I have done anything different?
But what’s done is done, and I can’t change any of it.
Theo is missing class again, which I’m thankful for. Out of sight, out of mind.
He doesn’t reach out, and it’s probably for the best, although, sometimes, I wish he would. How silly am I? Make up your mind! A sigh flows from my lips. I’ve turned into a walking contradiction.
Paige hasn’t said a word to me—she sits there in class staring at Theo’s empty desk. Good. If we never talk again, all the better.
Stephanie tries to cheer me up with random stories, like the horror of dissecting a frog in biology, but I only register half of what she says. I can’t pull myself out of this fog, no matter how hard I try.
At home, Theo and I are like strangers, passing by each other without so much as a glance. I keep my distance, nose in textbooks, pretending I’m busy with schoolwork so no one bothers me. I don’t want to explain anything to our parents.
From time to time, he comes up to my door, trying to explain himself, but I don’t want to hear it. I have to protect myself from further heartbreak.
The numbness I trained myself to feel carries me through the holidays and birthdays over the next three months.
Spring finally arrives, and it’s late morning on Saturday when the rumbling engine of a truck outside the house gets me out of bed. I move to the window and peek through the blinds.
My dad is helping Theo’s parents load suitcases into a U-Haul truck. Looks like the repairs at Pearsons’ new home are finished.
“Chrissy, why don’t you come down and help us?” mom calls from downstairs.
For the sake of appearances, I drag myself downstairs with utmost reluctance. My stomach twists into a pretzel of dread. I know I have no choice—refusing to say goodbye would only draw unwanted attention and questions I’m not prepared to answer.
Mrs. Pearson spots me first, her warm smile making guilt crawl up my spine like ivy on a wall. What would she think if she knew the truth about what happened between her son and me? I force my lips into what I hope passes for a genuine smile as she pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you for everything, Chrissy,” she says, squeezing me tightly. “We’ll miss having you around.”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. I swallow hard, my voice coming out strained. “I’ll miss you, too.”
Mr. Pearson steps forward next, and I hug him briefly. “Take care, kiddo,” he says before patting my shoulder.
And then there’s Theo. He stands tall a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets. He’d be great at poker with that unreadable expression on his face. What is he thinking? Does he even feel an iota of remorse?
I want to grab his shoulders and demand an explanation. I want to know why he kissed Paige. The question burns on my tongue but stays trapped behind my teeth with our parents watching our every move.
Instead, I extend my hand in a gesture so formal it would be comical if it weren’t so heart-rending. “Goodbye, Theo.”
His fingers wrap around my small hand, and my skin pebbles as he gives me a gentle squeeze, betraying the indifference I’m trying so hard to project.
“See you around,” he murmurs, meeting my eyes for just a heartbeat before looking away.
We call it a day, this pathetic handshake standing in for all the words we’ll never say. Blood rushes in my ears as I step back, my chest hollow yet somehow unbearably heavy.
My heart fists as I watch them drive away. If there was any hope of reconciliation between us, it’s now turning a corner, never to return.
Things can finally go back to how they were.
Sunday morning breakfast is strangely quiet. I miss the lively chaos of our two families sharing breakfast. Even miss the awkwardness I sometimes felt when Theo glanced at me from across the table.
How pathetic. He’s not coming back, and I’m content to let things be as they were at the beginning of the school year.
Life post Theo consists of me slipping back into my old routine: dancing, studying, hanging out with Stephanie, being ignored in school, occasionally poked fun at and, above all else, observing the stars and wishing I was on the moon to escape the anguish of pining after Theo.
Though the pain of heartbreak subsides a bit each day, my longing for him intensifies. My mind tells me it’s better this way—that I’m better off without the complications he brought into my life—but my heart yearns for him. It’s so frustrating.
It’s been a week and a half since the Pearsons moved out. I come home from school on Wednesday and find mom waiting for me in the kitchen. She holds something in her hand, and as I get closer, I see it’s a white envelope with my name on it.
“This just came in mail,” she says, handing it to me.
It’s from Theo. My hands tremble as I clutch the envelope and race upstairs to my room. I tear it open and pull out the neatly folded letter inside. Sitting on my bed, I take a deep breath and start reading.
Dear Chrissy,
I don’t know how to start this letter. I’ve written and rewritten this so many times, and no matter how I try to say it, nothing sounds good enough.
So, I guess I’ll just start with the truth: I’m sorry.
I’m so, so sorry for everything. I know I hurt you, and I know that the last thing you want to hear is excuses.
But please, hear me out. What you saw at the concert .
. . that wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t kiss Paige.
She threw herself at me at the worst possible moment.
It was so unexpected I froze, and before I could even push her away, you were standing there, watching, and the look on your face . . .
I’ll never forget it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so awful in my life.
Chrissy, you’re the one I like. Not her. Never her. And I let her know that already.
I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between all those bathroom conversations and our walks to school and every laugh we’ve shared, you became the person I wanted to be around more than anyone else.
I know I messed up, but I need you to know that this—us—was never a game to me.
You’re important to me in a way I can’t even put into words.
I get it if you don’t believe me. But if you give me a chance, I want to prove to you I’m not what you must surely think of me, that I’m not the guy you think you saw at the concert.
I’m just a guy who cares about you more than I can explain.
I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for a second chance.
One more thing. The talent show. I know you weren’t planning on going—I know crowds aren’t exactly your thing—but I’m asking you to come. There’s something I need you to see.
I just hope, more than anything, that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. And even if you don’t, just come to the talent show. Please.
Theo
The words blur on the page as I reread them, my heart feeling like it’s simultaneously breaking and mending all at once.
I trace my finger over his handwriting, the ink a little smudged in places, like he’d pressed the pen down harder than he meant to.
That he wrote a letter in an age of smart phones and instant messengers—I like it.
Paige had been scheming to shove me aside since the school year began, and it’s just the thing she would do to accomplish her goal.
The memory of that night pains me every time I recall it, but doesn’t that just mean I don’t want Theo to kiss anyone else but me? I never pegged myself as selfish, but in this regard, I’m not ashamed to admit that I am.
I bite my lip, folding the letter back. The talent show is next week. Part of me wants to hide from everything and stay in this familiar place of how I’ve always been, but there’s another part I can’t shake—the one that wants Theo back in my life.
I spend the next few days in a cloud of indecision, questioning whether I should go and possibly risk getting hurt again. After all, anything can happen in high school.
The plan is to stay home until the show ends, so no one can force me onto the stage the way Paige and her posse did at her party. I’m not some clown to be paraded for their amusement.
The day of the talent show arrives, and hope ignites within me, stronger than ever that maybe I could be together with Theo.
It’s a strange thing about hope—no matter how dim it gets, it never truly goes out.
It flickers constantly until it’s set ablaze again.
There is only one thing left to do. Get dressed.
By the time I reach the auditorium, the crowd is already gathering. I sneak in through the back, choosing a seat in the last row, near the wall. It’s less noticeable, and if things get overwhelming, I can easily slip away.
As the hum of excitement fills the room, I text Stephanie to let her know I’m here.
Anticipation bubbles within me like a foaming bath. What is it that Theo wants me to see?
My eyes scan the room, but he’s nowhere to be found.