I got home from school and collapsed face-first onto the bed, like someone had sucked the energy straight out of me. I’d been avoiding Chris since yesterday. I just didn’t know what to say. What to feel. What to do.

Everything inside me felt scrambled—tender and raw, like a sunburn I couldn’t stop scratching.

I didn’t want to move.

                                       Or think.

                                                       Or exist.

And for the first time since I started at the coffee shop, the thought of going in made me feel sick. Not because of the job, but because of him. Because I’d have to face him. And I had two options: either I told him, and would have to see whatever disappointment or confusion was waiting in his eyes. Or I lied and pretended everything was okay. But I’m not good at pretending, especially not around him.

I get now why we say falling in love. Yup, this sure does feel like falling from a goddamn precipice. And they only tell you how amazing being in love is and pretend it doesn’t suck ass sometimes. Is it even worth it?

I stared up at the ceiling, hoping it might offer some cosmic clarity.

It didn’t.

Just stared back blankly, like, ‘don’t look at me, I’m literally a ceiling’.

The door creaked open, and Tracy waltzed in.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing...” I mumbled into my pillow.

“You didn’t come down for dinner. Mom said you weren’t hungry.”

“So?”

“I see. You’re throwing another pity party and didn’t even invite me,” she said, already grabbing the pouffe and plopping down beside the bed. “What happened?”

“Honestly?” I rolled over, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t even know if I have the energy to explain.”

Tracy shrugged like she’d expected as much. “You know what? My friends are all obsessed with Korean dramas right now.”

I blinked at her. “Okay?”

“I never feel the need to watch them.” Her voice shifted into that sweet, fake-serious tone she used when she was about to say something ridiculous. “You know why?”

“No...?”

“Because you tell me everything. Your life is better than a K-drama.”

I let out a small laugh, even though my chest still felt tight.

It was sad how true that actually was.

“I’m living vicariously through you,” she continued, kicking her legs out. “Now come on—what happened? It can’t be that bad.”

I hesitated. Then sighed.

“I snuck out last night... and I made out with Jamie.”

Her eyebrows practically leapt off her face. “Okay. Wow. That took a turn.”

“Told you.”

She tilted her head, her expression shifting to something softer. “No, no, I’m joking. It’s okay. But... why?”

“I don’t know. I was confused, I guess. But the worst part isn’t even that.”

“Oh boy.” She leaned forward. “What did you do? Did you two...?”

“No!”

“Then what?”

I hesitated, heart thudding like I was about to confess a crime.

“I... I keep thinking about Chris. And not just in a ‘he’s cute’ kind of way. It’s more than that.”

I exhaled. “I like him. Like, really, really like him.”

Tracy gave me a look like I’d just told her water was wet.

“Aww. You know that’s not exactly breaking news, right? At least not to me.”

She gave me a knowing look. “Still, that’s the part you’re worried about? After kissing the most emotionally unavailable guy in the entire school?”

“I know...”

She softened a little. “Still, how is liking a nice boy the bad part?”

“Because you’re assuming he likes me back.”

“And you’re assuming he doesn’t. So ask him.”

She always fires back too fast. Normally I’d try to keep up, throw some snark back, but today... I’m too tired.

“It’s not that easy, Tracy. We’re friends. We hang out. We work together. If I screw that up... I lose everything. And I don’t think I could handle being around him knowing he doesn’t feel the same.”

And once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I needed to get it all out. All the messy, spiraling thoughts that had been building up inside me.

“And I feel so fucking guilty. Why? It’s not like we’re together or anything. So why do I feel like crap?”

She frowned. “Because deep down, you know he likes you.”

“But that’s not true. I have no idea.”

She sighed, frustrated. “Does he need to write it on your face?”

“No, but if he doesn’t say anything, how am I supposed to know?”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t know if you like him?”

I opened my mouth to argue, something, anything, but that actually made sense. What if...?

“Ugh, this sucks...”

“Come on, Troy. It’s not that complicated,” she said, this time with a little more softness.

I looked at her. “And what do you think? Should I tell him?”

“Oof. That’s a tough one...” She tapped her fingers on her knee. “You’re really making me work today.”

Great. You know it’s bad when Tracy doesn’t have a confident answer.

“It’s just... You know Jamie, right? He doesn’t have a filter. What if he says something in front of Chris? Then it’s even worse. Chris might think I was hiding it. That I'm into Jamie.”

She winced. “Yeah. You’ve got a point. That could definitely kill any chances you might have.”

“But if I do tell him, and there’s even the tiniest chance he likes me back...”

“You’ll break his heart.”

I flinched. “Jesus, Tracy...”

That hadn’t even occurred to me that I might actually hurt him. Not just confuse him, but really hurt him.

And honestly? I’d rather hurt myself than do that to him.

“See? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Either way, I lose. I don’t want to do that to him...”

“But like you said, you’re not together. Nothing’s been said. So yeah, he might be hurt. But it’s not like you betrayed him. And he’ll get that. Maybe not right away, but eventually.”

She leaned in a little.

“But you have to make sure he knows you like him. Otherwise, he might just give up.”

The idea of Chris giving up on me... I can’t even let myself picture it.

But she’s right.

If I pretend none of this happened, if I let the silence do the talking, I might lose him for good. And I can’t accept that.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll just bite the bullet and tell him.”

“Now cheer up.” She nudged me. “There’s still hope, right?”

I looked away. “And what if it all goes to shit?”

She smiled, softer this time. “That’s a problem for future Troy. But if it goes right? That’s a future worth risking for.”

***

I left for work earlier this evening. Couldn’t sit around any longer. Couldn’t stare at the ceiling or the walls or my own hands without spiraling.

When I got to the coffee shop, I didn’t go in right away. Instead, I sat on the narrow fire escape stairs behind the back door.

I pulled out the cigarette pack I had “stolen” from Jamie. I hadn’t even realized I’d taken it.

I took one out and held it loosely between my fingers.

I didn’t want it. Not really. But I needed... something.

“Hi!”

I jumped, and the cigarette flew from my hand. It hit the stairs and rolled under my shoe. I scrambled to grab it, heart thudding like I’d been caught doing something illegal.

Chris stood just outside the doorway, lit up by the golden edge of the setting sun. And yeah, part of my reaction was the scare. But most of it?

Most of it was just him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh... back to that?”

“It’s difficult, you know?”

The words came out sharper than I meant them to.

He looked at me like I’d just slapped him.

“Shit. Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just... the withdrawal. It makes me act like an asshole.”

He grinned. “More than usual? I get it. It’s okay. Stay here, I have an idea.”

He vanished into the shop for a second. When he came back, he didn’t say anything, just sat down beside me.

Close. Too close.

But not close enough.

“Close your eyes.”

I blinked. “Okay...”

I had no idea what he was planning, but I followed his lead. I heard a crinkling sound, a wrapper.

“Open your mouth.”

I raised an eyebrow, still blind. “This is getting real dodgy, Chris...”

But I did it anyway. Something small pressed against my tongue. Sweet. Artificial. Surprising.

I opened my eyes.

It was a strawberry lollipop.

“I brought strawberry,” he said casually. “Didn’t know what flavor you liked, but you can’t go wrong with strawberry.”

“Orange,” I mumbled around the stick. “But this is good too.”

He smiled. “I read somewhere that replacing cigarettes with lollipops can help. Gives you something to hold, something to keep your mouth busy.”

He paused. “If you’re thinking of a joke right now, you’re so predictable.”

“Me? Never.”

I gave him my most innocent face.

He rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”

But honestly? I was floored.

No one had ever done something so thoughtful for me. Something small but... gentle. Kind.

And for some reason, it made me feel even worse. Why does he even try? I'm a lost cause...

And it also hurts because I’m trying not to be hopeful and think that I might have a chance with him. That he might like me.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

It slipped out before I could filter it. But I didn’t take it back.

He looked startled. “Me? I don’t know about that...”

His hand ran through his hair, and he smiled down at the ground. That smile did something to me. Something warm and painful at the same time. Like unclenching a muscle you didn’t know was tense.

“I just thought you could use a bit of help,” he said softly.

“Thanks, Chris. This means a lot.”

More than he’d probably ever understand.

He stood. “Alright. Time to go to work.”

As we walked in, I tossed the full cigarette pack into the trash.

I hope I don’t regret this.

***

The shop was busy for the first couple of hours, which saved me from having to think. I liked that. No thoughts, just orders. Lattes and iced mochas and ringing up change.

It was only later, when things slowed down, that the weight started to settle again.

Too much quiet. Too much space between words.

I was drying a mug when it slipped through my fingers and shattered on the floor right next to Chris’s feet.

It was an accident.

But if I’m being honest?

Part of me wanted to smash every mug and plate in the place. Just to hear something break that wasn’t me.

I crouched down to pick up the larger pieces. Really, I just wanted an excuse to look anywhere but at him.

But of course he followed. Knelt beside me. Helped gather the shards.

“You okay?” he asked gently. “You look upset. This isn’t just about the cigarettes, is it?”

Crap.

He always sees right through me.

I wanted to tell him everything. Not just because I trusted him, though I did, but because hiding was exhausting.

But I was also ashamed. Embarrassed.

And still drowning in guilt. I kept trying to remind myself we weren’t together. That we probably never would be.

But it didn’t help.

Because it still felt like I’d messed up something that could’ve been more before I even gave it a real chance.

We stood up and dropped the pieces into the trash.

“I... screwed up. Again,” I said, leaning against the counter, avoiding his eyes.

Maybe if I didn’t look, I wouldn’t see the disappointment I was so afraid of.

“Did you have a fight with your parents?”

“No...” I hesitated. The words felt thick in my throat.

“Jamie showed up at my place. Late. Said he wasn’t feeling great. Wanted to hang out. And I—I went.”

I stared down at the counter.

“I kissed him.”

Not the whole truth. But enough. He didn’t need the messy details.

“I didn’t want to. It just... happened. It didn’t mean anything. I swear.”

I risked a glance at him.

He didn’t say anything.

And that silence? It was worse than yelling.

“I’m confused,” he said finally, voice flat. “You said you didn’t like him. So why’d you do that?”

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t wait.

“I don’t get you sometimes, Troy. It’s like you’re trying to sabotage your own life, and then you wonder why it feels so shitty.”

That hit hard.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

“But hey,” he said, shrugging. “It’s your life. Not mine.”

He tried to sound casual, but his jaw was tight. Shoulders stiff.

He cared. Even if he didn’t want to.

I didn’t know if he was angry because I’d made a stupid choice, or because the choice had been Jamie.

“You’re right,” I said softly. “That’s why I talk to you. Because you call me out when I need it. And because I care what you think.”

“Why?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t care what anyone thought.”

“You’re not just anyone.”

Cliché or not, it was the truth.

He didn’t look away. Just stared.

I hate it when he does that. When he looks at me like I'm a piece of shit. Ice cold.

“Why are you upset, though?” he muttered. “You kissed the hottest guy in school. Congratulations.”

“Because it’s not what I wanted.”

His frown deepened. Arms folded. The air between us shifted.

“What did you want, then?”

The truth rose up in my chest, sharp and stinging.

You. I want you.

But I couldn’t say it.

“Someone else...” I said instead.

And I hoped the silence between us said what I couldn’t.

He stared at the floor. Kicked at a crack in the tile.

“I know I keep screwing up,” I whispered. “But I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Especially not you.”

He didn’t respond. His mouth was tight, his eyes unreadable.

But I kept pressing. I needed something. Anything.

“You matter to me, you know?” I said. “You really do.”

“Yeah, well... I wouldn’t have guessed.”

That one hit like a punch to the ribs.

He turned his face away.

“Well, I’ve got a quiz tomorrow,” he said, voice clipped. “I need to study. Do you mind closing?”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Sure.”

What else could I have said?

“Okay then.”

He walked off without another word. Hands stuffed deep in his pockets like he didn’t trust himself to move them. His shoulders sagged. He didn’t look back.

I wanted to stop him.

Grab his wrist.

Tell him everything.

But I didn’t.

Because I’m a fucking coward.