Everyone has stories of falling in love. Lainey has her boyfriend. Jillian too had a love story of her own.

Jillian had a boyfriend I didn’t care for. She texted me one day—not out of the blue, asking if she could share my number to him because they were at that stage in their relationship where he could meet her friends. That boy messaged me throughout the afternoon he finally got my number. He said his hellos and I didn’t think about a hi. I thought he’d be great for Jillian, someone to grab a hold of her, haul her from the dump we were both living in but I had no real interest in getting to know him.

His name was Greg, just Greg.

“Hey, you’re one of Jillian’s friends right?” That was one of the things he said to me before he continued on a spiral I couldn’t have foretold.

“So, I’m sure she’s told you about me. I mean, I’m a really great guy.” I imagined him with dark hair, typical dark Filipino skin because she told me he was Filipino. I could see him brushing back his hair, leaned back on a bar or table with a red solo cup, on one hand, eyeing me at a party. He must have an ugly accent. I saw him with a greasy expression painted all over his smug face. I tried my best to be amiable because disappointing Jill was not on my agenda. He took it as an invitation to talk more shi— be more arrogant. “I could get any girl I want, but I chose her.” Is he supposed to be a fucking trophy? I mean, is she supposed to feel like she’d won the lottery? It felt more like she’d been hanging around corners and attracting the number one jerk of the world.

I didn’t think Jill to be desperate.

Greg was a piece of work even though I didn’t tell Jillian. I couldn’t tell her how many times he spoke about her being lucky or him honoring her by being her boyfriend. She actually loved the guy. So, in my head, I said, ‘there… there Jillian’ while sympathetically patting her on the shoulder instead of actually pointing it out. I didn't know whether I should just watch her like I had watched Lainey or butt in.

Obviously, I still didn't know how to be a friend.

She was like a sister to me, that much I knew. My sisters are smart and they know better. So, I thought, Jillian would too... in time.

Being told about Greg made me want to tell her about that November day with Warner.

November was a time with orange leaves and brown crunchy ones that are easily overlooked and stepped on. I tried avoiding them. It always felt like I was crushing something precious beneath my feet, like a dying person.

I was on my way home after staying a little after school for an art project I needed to finish. My bag was slung over one shoulder, getting heavier with each step. I decided to take the back gate like usual since it was a shorter route and I got to walk through Holbrook Park.

Holbrook had a lot of evergreen trees and lush grass. There we didn't have snow. As I said, where I grew up, there was always one season, summer but during winter, Holbrook was filled with students wearing thick sweaters. I suppose, forty degrees Fahrenheit was cold.

Lilly and I weren't together that day. She had some other thing she had to do— music, most likely. Madison was also in music. So, I guess she was with Lilly.

That left me to debate about the past year and the rest of this year with myself. Locked in my own world of Parliament, the members were all me... or maybe it was a courtroom, I was the judge, the plaintiff, the defendant, the security, the members of the jury, the people, and the court reporter, who sits tentatively listening to everything going on in my crazy mind.

That's when I saw them, the same group of guys loitering in the park every afternoon, dancing.

Drake waved me over. "Hey, going home? Wanna stay and hang out?" I surveyed the faces of the guys around. Sure, Drake was fine to hang with but I could hardly feel comfortable with any of the others.

I shook my head, "don't feel all too well."

He nodded and hugged me—"Get home safely, then."

He smiled, almost as if he was worried but said nothing else.

I waved shyly and weakly back at him and the rest of them that I knew well enough to greet. From my peripheral perspective, I saw a figure walk after me. I shrugged it off, continuing the fast pace walk.

"You okay?" Warner caught me at the crosswalk. There was a burning sensation at the center of my back. I must have sighed louder than I intended. His hand awkwardly retracted. "No then?" I scoffed, more to my inner thoughts than to him but he not-so-strangely took it as a sign to inquire further. My fingers tightened around the straps of my bag while I pouted, again more to myself than to him. "Take your time," he reassured.

He stepped back, letting a person-sized space become a wall between the two of us.

I watched as he looked around for any oncoming car and stepped off into the street. He smiled and walked silently beside me.

The next day, he found me walking home alone again. He matched my steps and let the quiet be. This occurred over and over again the first week of November until I finally cracked under the pressure.

"School's stressing me out. With physics and other stuff."

I'd been vague, enough to start a conversation but not too much.

In the third week of November just before Thanksgiving break, I was sluggishly walking to class. With clouded eyes, unfocused, I could feel my heart wearily beat twice the normal rate. The grass called out to me. The faraway trees meshed together with the ground. My heart felt like breaking through my ribcage and jumping out onto the concrete ground. I scrambled to a bench, heaving.

The rise and fall of my chest were out of my control. I couldn’t recall where I was. I remained sitting on a bench I don’t think I’ve ever sat on until then.

After class, that afternoon, I tried seeking out Lilly’s assistance. She'd always been there whenever I felt sick. Lilly was almost like a guardian. Though, in the end, I left school by myself. I felt fainter than before. My hand gripped around my shirt trying to clutch at my heart. I failed to notice Warner walk beside me.

"You okay?"

Warner liked to check up on me. He dropped me off at home that day. Then he texted that same night, the next night and the night after that. We didn't talk much at school but we spent hours sending messages to each other and falling asleep in the middle of our conversations.

November.

G: So. What are you up to? 9:12 PM

W: Homework as usual. :) 9:20 PM

G: Same here. 9:22 PM

W: How's your heart? 9:22 PM

G: Still failing me... lol but I mean, I rly cant help what its doing. You know? It slows down for no reason and all I can do is wait for it to be okay again. 9:26 PM

W: Have you tried doing some exercises, meditation or something? 9:28 PM

G: Yes, sir. Breathing exercises. 9:29 PM

Not that he could see, but I saluted him.

W: How's that going for you? Try not to overwork yourself. 9:31 PM

And we talked and talked about how my heart couldn't keep up with the troubles in my life. I ranted to him and he gladly listened. Suddenly, I wasn't alone in the courtroom. There within the jury was Warner.

W: Hey, how are you? Your heart okay? 10:03 PM

G: Sorry, I just saw your msg. I'm good now. It's alright. I'm sort of just lying on my bed and relaxing at the moment. 10:51 PM

W: That's good. 10:52 PM

I almost saw him nodding as he sent that message. It was as if he was in front of me and I'd never talked like that to anyone before. The long meaningful conversations were new to me but he persisted. That was nice.

November and December were filled with lots of evergreens.

“But what about Kent?”

Abigail turned to me as she carried a bouquet of flowers to her work table. She refused to look away without some sort of answer.

I sighed.

Well, I did convince her to ask more questions.

“Kent is different.”