How To Heal a Broken Heart - Kels Barnholdt

HOW TO HEAL A BROKEN HEART

BY KELS BARNHOLDT Copyright 2012, Kelsey Barnholdt, all rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

NOW How do you get over someone? How do you heal a broken heart? It’s a question asked all over the world every single day. Every day different people deal with something they thought deep down would never happen. A relationship ending or a friendship going sour - people surprise us, and well, let’s be honest, sometimes they completely shatter us. For some people there were signs -- little things they knew deep down meant something. For others, it comes completely out of nowhere. Either way somehow, someway, we’re left to pick up the pieces. To have to face the fact that somehow we have to be okay again, even if

it’s without a person we thought we would always have. But how do we do this? How do we become okay again? And for that matter what does “okay” even mean? To answer this, to truly answer how one gets over another person, I have to back to the beginning.

THEN The first time I lay eyes on Rich Carn I’m wearing a Sponge Bob t-shirt. No, I’m not kidding. Not just any Sponge Bob t-shirt either, but a bright yellow one with Sponge Bob’s face blown up obnoxiously across the front of it. I’ve been at the beach all day with my family and had grabbed it from my mom’s beach bag to throw on last minute over my bathing suit. It was way too big for me and came down past my knees. I was on my way to our van dragging behind me our huge cooler, three towels, and a beach bag stuffed with everything you could ever need for a fun filled day at the beach. It was taking both hands and all of my strength just to move the pile of stuff halfway across the parking lot. I was just

about to abandon the beach bag on the sidewalk and come back for it when I spotted him. The first thing you notice about a boy like Rich Carn is that he’s dangerous. His eyes are so dark I’m afraid that up close they could be black. His hair was just as dark and despite the nice weather he was dressed head to toe in black. He was leaning up against the fence surrounding the beach smoking a cigarette. He was the kind of guy your mother warned you about and it made him all the more appealing. I had never seen anyone who seemed as interesting as he did in that moment and the fact that his eyes were fixated directly on me didn’t help. I tried o not stare back but it wasn’t something I could help. When he tossed his cigarette over the

fence and into the sand then starting walking toward me I could feel my heart beating so fast in my chest I thought it might explode. My experience with boys was limited to say the least. And when I say limited I mean none talked to me. At all. He stopped directly in front of me and looked me up and down, as if trying to figure out if I was worth the effort. I must have passed whatever test was going on in his mind because he slowly nodded to himself. “Cute shirt.” They were the first words out of his mouth and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. There was no smile on his face and I could feel my face start to turn red. He liked this because a satisfactory look passed over his face then. “Where is this

going?” he asked me scooping the cooler up off the ground as if it were light as a feather. I somehow found my voice. “Uh, blue van, over there.” I found myself pointing. He accepts this and starts walking toward the van. I stand there watching him go, I’m to shocked to move. “You coming?” he calls over his shoulder without turning to look at me and I hurry to catch up to him. “So does the girl in the sponge bob t-shirt have a name?” he asks me as we approach our van. I start to dig through the bag on my shoulder as we walk, looking for the car keys I’d seen my

mom throw somewhere in there earlier this afternoon. My hand touches a bottle of sunscreen and I make my eyes focus on the contents of the bag, I make my eyes focus on anything and everything except for him. I don’t know how someone I just met can make me so nervous, but he does. “S-Stephanie,” I tell him never taking my eyes off of the beach bag. He chuckles. “I’m Rich. Of course I can tell you that without stuttering.” The comment makes me feel young and immature and when we reach our car all I want to do is crawl in the trunk and disappear from his field of vision.

He drops the cooler on the ground and reaches into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out a cell phone and holds it out to me. I just look at him and he rolls his eyes, then reaches down, grabs my hand and shoves the phone into it. “Put your number in,” he orders. I do. I don’t think twice about it. And when I hand the phone back he shoves it back into his pocket and then starts to walk back across the parking lot without another word. “Will you call me?” I call out. It sounds desperate even to me and I wish I could take it back the second the words leave my mouth. He stops and turns around to look at me. “Maybe, I mean that’s as long as your boyfriend

doesn’t care.” He laughs out loud after he says it like the thought of me having a boyfriend couldn’t possibly be true. Then he turns around again and is gone just as fast as he came.

NOW I thought about him the whole drive home. I had spent my entire sixteen years on earth wanting to be noticed. Hoping that somehow, someway, a boy would notice me. I hated movies that didn’t have a happy ending and I wouldn’t read books I knew didn’t end with the girl getting the guy. I believed in happy endings, no, I counted on happy endings. I had thought about nothing but how there’s that one person out there for everyone for the last six years. I couldn’t wait for my happy ending, I couldn’t wait to be loved. Of course when you’re young you don’t realize that sometimes you have to go through the bad to

get to the good. You don’t realize that the first guy may not be the best guy. He may not be the one who’s supposed to make you happy forever. You don’t realize that there’s a bigger picture. Instead, you dive headfirst as fast as you can into something that turns out to be a disaster for your heart.

THEN I didn’t hear from Rich for three days and I had almost convinced myself I had imagined the whole thing when the text message came. “Lets hang out.” That was it, no hi, no how are you, and no introduction. Yet somehow I knew it was him and somehow it was enough, somehow it was enough to make me feel like he wanted me. We met at a diner. I was amazed by him, but I wasn’t stupid enough to just drive off somewhere with him. I figured a public place was the best route to go. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to take me off into the woods and hack me to pieces but somewhere in the back of my mind

was my dad’s voice telling me over and over again how you can never be to carful these days. The date is fast, I babble a lot, and I’m so nervous I can feel myself sweating way too much more than a few times through out the night. But he kisses me at the end of the night and for the first time in as long as I can remember I feel special, I feel like I have someone who is mine. I fall hard and I fall fast. My life started to revolve around Rich. I lived for spending time with him and I would ditch anyone and anything to see him. Rich called and wanted to see me and I had plans with my friends? My friends were ditched. My mom wanted to have a family dinner and Rich suddenly got the night off? I would blow off dinner. He came before anyone and anything

else, even myself. As a result my relationships with the people in my life started to fade. Eventually my friends stopped calling, my little sister stopped asking me to do things with her and my parents stopped caring if I came to dinner every night. My weekends were spent waiting for him. If he went out with his friends for the night and I didn’t hear from him I would hold my phone in my hand hoping he would text or call me soon. My grades were slipping and I was lying to everyone about everything. All the money I had saved over the years from babysitting, birthdays, Christmas, and other holidays was slowly dwindling away. This was because if I saw anything that I thought Rich

would like or want I didn’t hesitate to buy it. It became so bad that I couldn’t even remember the last time I had spent any money on myself. I didn’t care though. I didn’t care if I didn’t have any friends. Or if I wasn’t doing well in school, or if I was barely talking to my family anymore. I was in love and as long as I had Rich I had everything. I didn’t need anyone or anything else. Naturally, when he ended it I was devastated. He was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. I had honestly believed that we would be together forever. He didn’t really have a reason for breaking up with me; “I just don’t really like feel it anymore you know?” No, I didn’t know.

I felt like I was going to die. I had never understood the expression heartbreak but I could literally feel my heart aching in my chest. I thought there was no way I could feel worse, but that’s how the world works. One horrible thing is usually followed by more horrible things.

NOW The relationship was clearly unhealthy. I cared on a completely different level than he did. While it was true that we had some good memories, it seemed like in my mind I was making it out to be much better than it was. Of course you don’t think about that at the time, all you can think about is the pain. It’s almost impossible to recognize a unhealthy situation while you’re involved in it because you’re not healthy yourself. It takes a healthy person to realize they deserve to be treated like they matter. Of course when you’re sixteen and you’ve just had your heart shattered for the first time no one tells you that, and even if they did you probably wouldn’t listen. You don’t want to hear any of

that, you don’t want to think about any of that, because all you can think about is the pain. The pain in your heart that seems to be traveling through your whole body. Most people go through different stages once a relationship is over. You call or text them a number of times hoping they will answer or hoping they will somehow say it was a mistake and they miss you like crazy. Then you move on to making yourself crazy, checking his facebook like twenty times a day, staring at your phone wishing he would call, even driving past his house (oh come on, we’ve all done it), then you move on to crying. The crying is different for everyone, for some it’s constant, for others it’s so rare that it feels like it never happened at all.

No matter how many tears you cry, no matter if you share your heartbreak with the world or with no one, no matter if you walk around like your world is destroyed or with a smile that reveals nothing that you feel inside we all reach a point. A point comes where something happens letting us know can’t keep beating ourselves up all day long. It can come a few days after, or a few weeks, or honestly a few months after. A point where the world says he isn’t coming back and that we have no choice but to let it go, no choice but to somehow carry on again. And that point is when the real healing begins, that point is when you have to try like hell to be okay again. That’s the point that is the scariest because you feel like you’ve let yourself slip to the point of no return, yet the universe is forcing you to get up off the ground.

THEN Two weeks after Rich broke up with me I’m laying in my bed with the covers pulled over my head. I feel like I’m going to cry but somehow I can’t. I think its because I’ve cried so much that there’s nothing left inside of me. My parents have no idea how upset I really am. They clearly know I’ve been moping around the house, but they don’t know I cry myself to sleep every night or feel so horrible inside that I don’t feel like things are going to get better. I’m just laying there staring at the insides of my blanket when my little sister walks in. Actually from the sounds of it she runs in but I figure if I pretend to be asleep she might leave so I lay perfectly still. I’m just about to try to figure out

how to fake snore when she throws the blanket off my body and plops her little body on my bed. “Hello.” She says. She’s wearing a pink tutu with bright purple tights and what looks like a yellow crown. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head in a braid and she’s wearing bright pink lipstick. “I’ve come to invite you to my tea party.” I sigh and open my eyes to talk but she cuts me off. “Now it’s true that you keep declining my offers but I thought I would give you one last chance to accept before I gave you your dismissal paperwork.” She’s waving around a yellow envelope, which I can only assume are my “dismissal” papers.

“Megan, do you even know what dismissal” means?” I ask. She rolls her eyes “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child Stephanie, of course I know what it means, I’m almost eight. It means you’re kicked out!” “Kicked out?” “Yup. Kicked out of the group. I mean, you haven’t been to tea in weeks and honestly if I were you I’d be kind of embarrassed. You’re the topic of conversation all the time.” The topic of conversation? Really? I am? “I am??” Megan nods. “Oh yes, the other guests bring it up almost every week. Just the other day Barbie

was saying how you’ve, um, let yourself go.” She looks me up and down as she says it. I look down at my pajamas and sigh. Even my little sister knows I’m not looking my best these days. I can’t help it. It’s like some days I over eat and other days I can’t eat at all. I feel like I haven’t been out of my room for days and when my mom or dad come in here I just pretend to be busy looking at colleges or something until they go away. I sigh and roll over. “Leave me be.” “Okay. Well I just need you to sign the release papers so I don’t get sued later on,” she tells me, waving them around in my face. “Sued?” I ask her. She nods. “My lawyer says it’s best to cover all

my bases. I can have him call you if you prefer before we move forward.” I groan and grab the envelope out of her hand, anything to make her leave me alone. I’m just about to look for a pen when I realize what she’s having me sign. It’s a yellow envelope addressed to my parents and the return address is from my school. “Where did you get this?” Megan shrugs. “Doug gave it to me.” Doug? Who the hell is Doug? “Who’s Doug?” I ask her, trying to stay calm. “The mailman.”

“You’re on a first name basis with our mailman?” I ask her still looking at the yellow envelope in my hand. Megan nods. “I invited him for tea but he’s very busy with his career today.” She looks me up and down. “Some of us have been up and, you know, working for a while now.” She says “we” like she’s been up herself working for hours. I roll my eyes. “Megan, go away. I’m keeping this.” I shove the letter from my school under my pillow before she knows what’s happening. A shocked expression comes over her face “Hey! You give that back!

STEALING MAIL OFFENSE!”

IS

A

FEDERAL

Shit. If she doesn’t be quiet my mom’s going to come in here asking questions. Think fast, think fast. Got it. I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you wearing make up?” She stops and stares at me for a minute. “Well, you should probably look them over anyway just so you’re sure, gotta go!” She bolts out of my room slamming the door behind her. I wait a few seconds then grab the envelope from under my pillow and rip it open.

The words are like a slap in the face. Three out of five classes failed. Summer school necessary to proceed to senior year. In the sum of six hundred dollars. Shit. Shit. Shit. How could this have happened? How? I mean, yeah, I was a little preoccupied with Rich and I knew my grades were slipping a little bit but three classes failed? I failed three classes? How is that even possible? This has got to be a mistake. But a feeling of dread comes over me because I know that it’s not, I know deep down it was way worse than I would admit to myself. Rich broke up to me right before final exams and I didn’t think about them let alone open a book to study for them.

My parents are going to kill me. I’m so screwed. My dad is all about college. The only reason he let me date Rich is because I would swear up and down I was keeping my grades up. He is going to go off the wall when he finds out about this. And if I know my dad at all once he does find out he is going to make me pay for summer school myself, which means he will find out my savings is gone. Completely gone. I’m so screwed. I’ve been lying to everyone, and it’s all about to come crashing down around me. Unless. I mean, unless I could somehow come up with the money by myself. Unless I could somehow get away with this without them finding out. I could somehow get

through summer school without them even knowing. The thought is giving me anxiety and I feel like my heart might explode in my chest. And for the first time in weeks, I get up, get in the shower and start to put together a plan of action. Not because I want to, but because I know I have to. Is forging someone’s name against the law? I didn’t think this was such a big deal at home but now standing outside the main office at school I’m beginning to have major second thoughts. I mean, I know kids sign their parents’ names all the time when they get bad grades and stuff, but still .I feel like summer school is way different than just a stupid bad grade on a test or something. School has been out for a few weeks now so the halls are completely empty, but

somehow I still feel like people are watching me. I’ve never done anything like this before and while I thought I could pull it off, looking at the secretary sitting in the main office now, I’m not so sure. I’m really nervous and everyone knows someone who is nervous isn’t exactly good at keeping their composure under pressure. Plus they work in this building all year long, they can probably see right through kids who are trying to get away with things. I’m just about to turn and walk out when I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump, dropping the forms in my hand all over the floor of the hallway. “Jeez. What’s wrong with you?” The voice belongs to Chelsea Mathews.

Chelsea’s in my grade and I’ve had a few classes with her over the years and while she’s always been nice to me I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. That’s because Chelsea’s, well to be honest, she’s way to popular to really be my friend. My school has pretty much three main groups. The really popular group, the semi popular group right below them, and everyone else. While Chelsea isn’t in the really popular group she is one of the most popular in the semi popular group. She attends a lot of the parties that most of the really popular people have and is really close with a select few and the only reason she isn’t completely in with them is because she’s way too nice. When I say way too nice, I mean nice to

everyone. She is friends with absolutely anyone and everyone. One time in seventh grade she had this huge birthday party and invited literally everyone she was friends with. It was probably the only time outside of school that so many different groups of people were together in one place. “I’m sorry.” I scoop down to pick up the papers on the ground. “You scared me!” “Yeah, I could tell.” She smoothes down her white jacket and looks down at me with worried eyes. “Are you okay?” “Totally. I’m totally fine.” Seeing her again reminds me how beautiful she is. She has this long hair that’s normally a dark red

but she’s dyed it this really light shade of blonde that makes her look exotic and beautiful. She’s naturally tan with a few freckles sprawled across her nose. Her eyes are this intense green and I would kill for my teeth to be that white. She’s wearing black shorts, a black tank top that shimmers in the light and a white leather jacket with white heels. I could never ever pull off an outfit like that. If it was anyone else I would feel totally embarrassed in my jean shorts and gray t-shirt but I know Chelsea would never judge me, she’s not like that at all. “You don’t really look it.” She tells me. “You

look kind of panicked.” And maybe its that she’s noticed something isn’t right, maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me like she might actually be concerned about me, or maybe it’s that I haven’t talked to anyone about how sad I’ve been since the break up, or maybe it’s that I know I have no one to talk to because I have given up everyone and everything for him. Or honestly, maybe it’s just because I know I’m in way over my head with everything, but right there in the middle of the hallway I start to cry. And not just crying a little either. I mean full on sobbing. Crying so hard I feel like I cant’ breathe. Chelsea looks shocked for a second, like she can’t quite understand what she just walked into,

but she recovers quickly. “What’s wrong?” And so I tell her. I tell her everything. I tell her how I have a broken heart, I tell her how none of my friends will call me back because I ditched them for a boy. I tell her how I’ve been lying to everyone and how I’m holding a forged summer school paper with absolutely no way to pay for my classes. And when I’m done, she just stares at me. I’ve just told all my deepest darkest secrets to one of the most popular girls in school and I can’t even think straight. The secretary who must have heard me sobbing and crying like a crazy person has come out in the hallway to see what’s going on. “Everything

okay out here?” she asks, but she’s looking at Chelsea, not me. Chelsea’s mom is a teacher here so almost everyone knows her, and loves her, of course. Chelsea looks at me for a second before she speaks. She shakes her head. “No, no, everything is not okay, Susan.” Great, she’s on a first name basis with the secretary. And I know it’s over. I know the jig is up. They will call my parents and my life will be over. Maybe, just maybe they will only ground me for half of my senior year and not the whole thing. I’m about to tell Susan before Chelsea can to save at least some face when Chelsea reaches over and grabs the summer school papers out of my hand.

“My friend Stephanie’s parents are getting divorced!” she exclaims shaking her head sadly back and forth. What? What is she talking about? They are not! Was she even listening to me when I was going on my crazy rant? I mean, I said a lot of sad horrible things but nothing about my parents getting divorced. Geez, you would think someone would pay attention while I’m having a nervous breakdown. “Oh no!” Susan says, looking at me with pity in her eyes. “You poor thing. My sister is going through the same thing right now. It’s so tough on the children.” I shake my head, confused, but before I can say

anything Chelsea’s talking again. “But I bet your sister is at least worried about the children! Poor Steph’s parents are too busy to even care about her! I mean look at this!” she says, waving the papers in her hands around. “They just sent her down here with the paperwork for summer school like it was nothing! I mean it’s no wonder her grades were slipping with everything going on at home.” Susan shakes her head. “In so many of these situations the poor children just get overlooked. Now come right in, honey, I’ll take care of you.” She puts her arm around me and pulls me after her. “No need to be embarrassed.” “Well of course she’s embarrassed!” Chelsea’s

following us into the office as she talks. “I mean, she even has to pay for it herself, Susan! Can you imagine?” And I know what she’s doing. She’s lying for me, she’s helping me. Chelsea Mathews is here in the office helping me lie my way into summer school. “So young, so young to have to deal with such burdens.” Susan’s rubbing my shoulder. “How do you do it?” It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to me. “Well...I just…I try to take it day to day.” Susan sighs and looks at Chelsea with a look that says “this poor child.” Chelsea nods then says, “So clearly she will need to be set up with the

payment plan.” “Of course!” Susan says. Fifteen minutes later I’m enrolled in two summer school classes. (You’re allowed to fail one class and pass for the year so I only have to re-take two of the three classes I failed. Yay for small victories!) I’m also set up with a payment plan. It’s broken up into monthly payments of two hundred dollars for the next three months. When we walk out of the main office a few minutes later I don’t know how to begin to thank Chelsea, but before I can even say something, she’s walking out the main doors. She stops before the door can slam behind her and turns to look at me.

“Come on,” she says. ‘”We’re going to get you a job.” And then she lets the door slam shut behind her before she has a chance to see the shocked expression that comes across my face. I’m sitting in a bowling ally right now. No. I’m not kidding. After I ran to catch up with Chelsea outside of school she instructed me to get in my car and follow her car. I almost refused, but she had pretty much just saved my ass, so how could I really walk away from her now? So I did what she said -- I followed her, and ten minutes later we ended up in front of a bowling ally, or should I say “Lucky Strike.” The building itself doesn’t look very impressive from the outside. Its red paint is chipping off the building in every which way, and it looks like it could use a

nice landscaping job. But once you get inside it’s completely different. The floors are so clean they sparkle, there’s a full arcade, really nice wooden lanes, and a snack bar that looks like it has a full menu. Surprisingly, it’s actually pretty busy for the middle of the day during the week. Like five lanes are occupied. “Wow. It’s pretty busy huh?” I say to Chelsea. She laughs. “Oh, this isn’t busy.” I’m about to ask her what she means when someone throws a pair of bowling shoes at me. Literally there are bowling shoes flying at me from across the counter and right at me. I duck my head out of the way but they keep coming. Chelsea rolls her eyes then swings her whole

body gracefully up on the counter. “Chuck, are you trying to knock me out again?” I hear his laugh before I see his face. It’s loud and jolly and when he emerges from below the counter I realize it’s exactly the kind of laugh id expect to come from him. He’s a heavy et guy with thinning brown hair, warm eyes, and a smile so big I fear it might eat the rest of his face. “One time,” he says, looking at me like we’re old friends, “I came in really early and started to sort through all the shoes. I had no idea Chelsea was standing right in front of the counter. So I just kept throwing shoes out there and knocked her right over. She had a huge red mark on the side of her face for the rest of the day. I mean, it really

wasn’t funny, except it was, ya know?” He’s laughing as he tells me and suddenly I find myself laughing along with him. Chelsea scowls. “Yeah, real funny, laugh it up, guys.” Chuck shakes his head. “It’s not my fault these damn kids who work at night don’t know how to put things back where they go. How hard is it to sort shoes at the end of the night?” “Well ask for help and you shall receive!” Chelsea says. “Stephanie here needs a job!” Chuck looks at me then as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “Well uh… I mean, you know any friend of yours Chelsea...but um well…” he says,

taking in my appearance. “Don’t worry,” Chelsea assures him. “I’ll clean her up.” Hey! Clean me up? What’s wrong with me? I mean, it’s a bowling ally, jeez. Sure maybe I have let “myself go” a little like my little sister was all too eager to tell me, but no need to discuss it right in front of me. Chuck nods, accepting this. “Okay, bring her with you whenever you work next for some training.” Chelsea claps her hands together happily and reaches over to kiss Chuck on the cheek. “Thanks, Chuck, you’re the best!”

Then she jumps off the counter and grabs me by the hand. “Nice meeting you,” I call as she pulls me out the door. “This is great,” she tells me, walking across the parking lot. “The pay is only eight dollars an hour but it’s under the table so they don’t take any taxes out. Like, he just pays you for your hours at the end of the night. Which I guess could kind of be against the law but whatever, a job is a job, right? Plus you get to keep all your tips.” This whole situation is so strange to me. Less than two hours ago Chelsea was just another girl who I went to school with and now here she is helping me clean up the mess that it took me months to create.

“Why?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think about saying them. She just looks at me, puzzled. “Why does he pay under the table? I don’t know. I would never ask him, it’s probably -- ” I shake my head. “No, I mean why are you helping me? You barely know me.” She shrugs. “Everyone needs help sometimes, even from people they don’t know that well.” Then she opens the door and hops in her car. Right before she slams it shut she says, “Meet me at the mall tomorrow in front of Macy’s, ten o’clock.” And then she’s gone. And so I get in my car, and I try to think about

how I am going to possibly go to summer school and work for the next few months when all I really want to do is lay in my bed and not get up. How I am going to get up everyday and carry on when all I feel inside is sad? And then I place my head in my hands and for the second time that day I start to cry.

NOW Sometimes you don’t start to get over something because you want to, but more because you have to. If it was up to me I would have stayed in bed all summer. I would have stayed there every day feeling sorry for myself, wondering where I went wrong. But sometimes circumstances like summer school make you get up and make you carry on because that’s the thing about starting to move on; you have to MAKE yourself do things that used to come so easily. And while that’s painful, it’s a very small step in the right direction, because lets face it -- every marathon starts with an inch.

THEN I think my mom was more excited about me going to the mall with Chelsea than I was. I mean, I know I hadn’t had any friends over in a while but jeez. She was kind of freaking out. When I first told her I was gong to the mall she had assumed I was going with Emily. “Oh, this is wonderful!” she said, clapping her hands up and down and bouncing around the living room. “I just knew you two would work it out. You were way too close to let something as silly as a boy get in the way of your friendship!” The words sting and my heart starts to hurt even more than it did before, which I didn’t even think was possible. Emily was my best friend before

Rich came along. When I say best friend, I mean we did literally everything together. She knew everything about me and at first she was really happy for me that I had a boyfriend. But she started to hate him when she started to see he wasn’t exactly treating me well. Eventually I just started not calling her back. I didn’t want to deal with it. She was the only friend out of the girls I used to hang out with that I didn’t try to contact after me and Rich broke up. Not because I didn’t care about her, but because I did. I cared about her the most out of all my friends and I knew deep down that she was probably the one hurt the most by what I did. I had no idea how to even begin to explain myself to her or what I could possibly say to make her understand. Sometimes as I was carrying on with

things day to day I would wonder what she was doing, or what she would think if she could see me now. Somehow, I doubt she would be very impressed. I shake my head. “No, Mom, not Emily.” She pauses. “Oh. Well, who then?” “Chelsea. You know her, her mom works at the school.” My mom sighs “Of course! Chelsea! She’s a beautiful girl! Good for you, honey, good for you. Getting back out there.” “Yes,” Megan says nodding from her spot on the carpet where she’s busy coloring. “Good for you, Stephanie. Getting out there is a wonderful

step.” I force a smile and start to slowly back out of the room. “Yeah, well, I should go.” My mom has been totally supportive with my break up, or she’s tried to be, anyway. But the truth is that she has no idea how deep I was in with Rich or just how upset I really am. And I don’t like talking to her about it. I just like escaping. “Wait! Let me give you some money,” she says, running to her purse. “Oh no, it’s okay, Mom.” “Don’t be silly, Stephanie, that’s what mothers do!” she tells me, beaming as she digs through

her purse. “Yes,” Megan says, still scribbling away. “That’s what mothers do, Stephanie. Like if I wanted money for a new bike Mom would give it to me right away because that’s what mothers do right, Mom?” My mom shoots Megan a look and Megan shrugs. My mom smiles and hands me a wad of bills. I hesitate but reach out and take it then stuff it in my jeans pocket. I feel really guilty but at the same time kind of relieved because I obviously I couldn’t really afford any type of shopping trip with Chelsea today.

But she didn’t really give me a chance to explain that before jumping into her car and driving off. “Thanks, Mom, really.” I tell her as I head out. Once I get in the car I take the money out of my pocket and count it. One hundred dollars. My mom gave me one hundred dollars. I start to cry and I don’t stop until I’m pulling into a parking spot in front of Macy’s twenty minutes later. “What about this?” Chelsea asks me, holding up a pink shirt covered with sparkles. We’re in Forever 21 digging through the clothes. Chelsea insists that if I’m going to be working with her I need to be a little more stylish. To be honest, it’s not that I don’t like these types of clothes, it’s just I never really thought I could pull them off.

But with Chelsea’s help I’m starting to think maybe I can. “Cute,” I tell her, grabbing it out of her hand. Forever 21 is like a hidden treasure that you had no idea even existed. Honestly they have the cutest clothes at the cheapest prices. Plus to top it off Chelsea’s friend Amber works here and gives Chelsea the employee discount for everything she buys. (Which I don’t really think Chelsea’s supposed to do, but she doesn’t seem too concerned about it so whatever.) Amber’s employee discount is for fifty percent off, so the clothes come out to cost next to nothing. Which is good for me, considering I’m on a budget and all.

About an hour later, I emerge out of the store with five new tops, two skirts, and a pair of jeans. Which for eighty dollars is a total steal. I’m actually pretty excited to show my mom what I got. I know she will be excited. “Do you have a flat iron?” Chelsea asks me as we walk through the mall. “A flat iron?” She nods. “You know, to make your hair straight?” I search my mind. “I think, buried somewhere.” She nods. “Dig it out and use it. And here.” She starts digging through her purse and emerges with a plastic bag filled with all different types of make

up. “I went through my make up and picked out colors I thought would work for you. Do you need help putting it on or do you know how?” I take the bag from her. “Um, I think I can figure it out.” “Good.” she tells me squeezing my hand. “Thanks Chelsea. For everything.” She opens her mouth to speak but a pair of hands covers her eyes from behind before she can. “Guess who?” The voice belongs to Evan Moralli. Next to him Andrew Collins is standing shaking his head, like knows this trick is lame.

Evan is a kid in our grade. He’s really nice, and pretty goofy if you ask me. I don’t think there’s a time when he isn’t laughing or trying to make people laugh. Evan isn’t one of the most popular kids in our school but he’s pretty up there in the group that Chelsea hangs out with. Andrew is also in our grade, and he’s probably the most popular kid in our grade over all. I can’t say for sure but I’m almost positive it’s because he’s absolutely beautiful. I’m not exaggerating, either. He has brown floppy hair and these really intense blue eyes and he must, like, live at the gym because he’s like totally muscular and the captain of at least three sports teams.

Evan and Andrew have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Which is why even though Andrew is definitely higher up on the social scale than Evan they’re still always together. I’ve seen at least four girls stop and stare at Andrew as they pass in the few seconds since the boys have been standing with us and I try to not roll my eyes. Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest. “Evan, if you make me fall backwards again I swear to God. I’m wearing heels!” Evan sighs and takes his hands off of her eyes. “How did you know it was me?” Andrew laughs and hits him in the arm. “It might be time for a new trick, bro.”

“No way!” Evan says. “That works on the ladies all the time.” Chelsea laughs. “What are you guys doing here?” Evan shrugs. “What, a couple guys can’t go out for a nice day of shopping together?” “It was Evan’s idea,” Andrew tells us. “It was not! It was mutual!” “Not really. You totally texted me like, ‘yo let’s’ hit up Hollister today, I wanna shop.’” Evan shoots him a nasty look. “I did not say SHOP. I wanted to go to the video game store!” Andrew flips the Nike hat he has on around so

that he’s wearing it backward. “Yeah, but you definitely mentioned Hollister first.” “NO. I DIDN’T,” Evan says and his face is starting to turn red now. Yikes. Andrew pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I have the texts right here.” Evan grabs Andrew’s phone out of his hand and holds it over the railing. “Say it was mutual! Say we both wanted to go!” Andrew grins. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not going to drop my phone and you know it.” “I will! I’ll really do it this time!” Evan chants,

which makes me think they have been in this situation before. I’m starting to get a little nervous because people are for sure starting to look at us. But Andrew seems at ease, and it’s his phone, so whatever. Chelsea rolls her eyes. “I swear you guys fight like you’re a couple. Come on, I want a pretzel.” She starts to walk off. Evan pauses a second, looks after Chelsea, then throws Andrew’s phone at him and runs to catch up to her. “Wait, I want a pretzel!” he calls. Andrew catches the phone with one hand and grins at me. “What’s up, Stephanie?” Which completely takes me by surprise. I didn’t know Andrew knew I existed, let alone knew my

name. I shrug. “Just out for a day of shopping. It really was Chelsea’s idea, though.” “Are you implying it was my idea and not Evan’s to go to the mall?” he asks me. I fall into step beside him and we start to walk after Chelsea and Evan to the pretzel stand at the other end of the mall. “No,” I say. “I’m just saying he was willing to throw your phone off the second story of the mall to prove his point.” Andrew rolls his eyes. “Oh please, he threatened to throw it out the window of our fourth period science class last month because I told him his favorite color used to be red not blue, and that was on the third floor.”

“Hey,” I tell him, “I’m not judging you. It’s none of my business if you love to shop, Andrew. It’s actually kind of cute if you ask me.” Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m giving Andrew Collins shit right now. What has gotten into me? This is not like me at all. Am I flirting with him? No. No, I can’t be. Right? He laughs. “So the girl with the book has jokes now, huh?” I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “The girl with the book?” He nods. “Yeah, every time I see you, you always have your head buried in a book. Even

walking down the hall, which I might add is a good way to trip or walk into somebody, both equally dangerous.” I can’t believe he noticed that I always have a book. I didn’t think anyone noticed me period, let alone Andrew Collins. I erase the shock from my face and recover quickly. “Tell you what, why don’t you let me worry about my safety and you worry about the safety of your phone?” He nods. “Fair enough. I didn’t know you and Chelsea were friends.” “We aren’t,” I say before I realize what I’m saying. “We...it’s complicated.”

He looks at me. “Yeah, most things are.” And something about the way he says it makes me feel like he wants me to know he understands more than I think, which makes me uneasy. “Hurry up you two!” Evan calls and then we’re hurrying to catch up to him and Chelsea. “I was just telling Chelsea how I’m having people over tonight and you guys should come,” Evan says when I reach him. “I’m down. What about you, Stephanie?” Chelsea asks, looking at me. And for a second I almost give in, I almost say yes, but I don’t. Because I don’t belong with these people, these aren’t my friends. I’m Chelsea’s charity case and the second I forget that is that second I will end

up getting hurt again. “I actually have plans tonight. Thanks, though,” I tell them. They accept this and look toward the front of the line to get their pretzels, except for Andrew, who I can’t help but notice keeps his eyes on me for just a moment longer.

NOW I clearly wanted to go to the party. I just wouldn’t let myself. I was too scared to get close to anyone again, even just friends. I felt deep down that the second I forgot my place with Chelsea and her friends was the second I would be reminded in a very negative way of just how little I fit in with them. Of course, if we’re being realistic, Chelsea didn’t owe me anything. I had never done one kind thing for her in her life, and no one was forcing her to help me. She was doing it on her own, which should have told me she wanted to do it, she wanted to help me. But the thing about getting over someone is that

sometimes it’s really hard to let yourself trust again. Sometimes it’s really hard to allow yourself to believe there are people out there who will treat you right, who won’t hurt you, who really do want you around. Sometimes it literally has to be staring you right in the face before you see it, and even then, if you aren’t careful, you could miss it.

THEN My mom is very proud of me for getting a job. She’s, like, totally shocked at my responsibility, but somehow I feel like if she knew the real reason I was really working this summer was to pay for summer school she wouldn’t be to happy with me. The day of my first shift at Lucky Strike I start getting ready way too early. And when I say way too early I mean like three hours before my shift. I can’t help it. Chelsea made me even more nervous then I already was. After the mall last week we exchanged numbers and she called me last night to make sure I was ready for work. I assured her that yes I was, but then she told me to make sure my make up was done, and my hair

was straight and I was wearing a new outfit because the better I looked the better tips I would get. Which made me almost have a panic attack because I didn’t really think a new outfit and a little make up was going to somehow transfer me into a model. But now, as I stand in front of the mirror staring at myself I have to admit I don’t look half bad. I mean, not model status, but definitely cute. My brown hair is completely straight thanks to my straighter and my face is nice and dark since I put on this bronzer Chelsea gave me that somehow matched my skin perfectly. I’m wearing a light silver eye shadow with mascara and just a touch of pink gloss on my lips. It’s not

that much, but for me it’s a completely different world. I can’t remember the last time I wore make up. For my outfit I picked my new white jean skirt and a black sparkle tank top, both of which I got at the mall with Chelsea on our shopping trip. Chelsea says we can wear whatever we want as long as we look “cute.” I’m not sure if this is true since when I went in there everyone was wearing jeans and Lucky Strike t-shirts, but whatever. I mean, she is the one who got me the job and so she must know what she’s talking about, right? I’m trying my best to sneak out the door for work without being seen when Megan stops me. “WHERE YOU GOING LOOKING LIKE

THAT?” she screams from behind me. I jump and drop my purse, spilling a bunch of stuff on the floor in the process. “Jeez, Megan.” I scowl at her. She runs down the hall after me and bends down to help me pick my things up. “Where are you off to so quickly?” I sigh. “Work, Megan, and it’s very important I’m not late so I don’t get fired.” “THAT’S what you wear to work?” she asks, looking me up and down. “Its kind of…flashy for a bowling alley, isn’t it?”

Great. Now I’m getting fashion advice from my eight-year-old sister. “No, it’s not, actually,” I tell her, picking up the last of my things off the floor and shoving them into my purse. “Now I have to go.” I’m at the end of the hall when she calls out my name. I grind my teeth together, force a smile and turn around “Yes?” “You look really pretty.” And the crazy thing is that for a second I actually believe her. As soon as I walk into the bowling alley I know I’m going to be in over my head.

It’s not the middle of the day anymore. Pretty much every lane in the place is filled already and it’s only six o’clock. Not to mention there’s a huge line at the counter waiting to check in. The arcade is packed with teenagers and there’s kids running and screaming every which way. I feel extremely overwhelmed and nervous and I’m just weighing the pros and cons of staying or turning around when Chelsea grabs me by the hand and pulls me behind the counter. “Don’t get overwhelmed. It looks worse than it is,” she tells me. “Hey!” some kid screams at us from across the counter. “I’ve been waiting on my nachos for like twenty minutes now!”

“They’ll be right out!” Chelsea tells him, flashing a smile. The boy shakes his head and heads back to his lane. “No matter how testy they get, keep smiling,” Chelsea orders me. “Now take my lead, and whatever you do, don’t give your number to anyone.” I’m going to tell her she has nothing to worry about, but I don’t really have time because she doesn’t give me any. It turns out Chelsea is the fastest person in the world. She is never doing just one thing. If she isn’t taking orders and delivering food to lanes, she’s behind the counter giving out shoes and assigning lanes, or she’s cashing in tickets for kids in the

arcade, or unjamming the vending machine. You name it, Chelsea does it. And when she isn’t doing something, she’s ordering me to do something. “Bring this to lane twelve,” she tells me, handing me a huge tray of food. “Assign those kids with their dad to lane eight, you remember how to ring them in, right?” she tells me, pointing to the front of the bowling alley. And that’s how it is all night long. I don’t get a break and I’m way too busy to even think about asking for one. It isn’t until Chelsea and I are sitting at an empty table toward the back of the bowling alley four hours later that I realize just how tired I really am.

“So?” Chelsea asks me. “What do you think?” “I think,” I tell her, rubbing my sore feet under the table, “that this place is crazy.” She laughs. “It definitely is, but honestly being thrown into the fire is usually the best way to learn.” “Um, it is?” She nods. “Totally. I mean, think about it. Is there anything you don’t know how to do after tonight?” I think about it for a second and realize she’s right. Not taking your time with each little thing, but just having to figure it out as quickly as possible makes things stick in my mind much

longer. I mean, I was literally everywhere tonight. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a normal training day but in a way this was way more helpful. “Wow,” I tell her. “You’re right.” She smiles with satisfaction. “I usually am. Plus, check this out.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a wad of bills. “This is yours.” “It is?” I ask her. She nods. “It’s half of the tips I made tonight. You did just as much as me.” I hesitate and she rolls her eyes and thrusts the money into my hands. “Take it,”

she tells me. “It’s sixty dollars. Keep that up and you’ll have paid for summer school in no time.” I smile to myself because she’s right. Not only that, but at this rate I’ll be able to start to put back my savings I spent too. “You wanna bowl?” she asks me. “Bowl?” I ask her. “No way.” She laughs. “Oh, come on. They won’t charge us.” She takes a key out of her pocket and sticks it into the top of the lane we’re sitting at and the screen pops up for us to type our names in. “Just a few balls?” she asks me.

“Well,” I say. “Maybe a few.” She laughs and types our names onto the screen. Me and my dad used to bring Megan bowling all the time. She would have to use the bumpers, but it was still really fun. Of course when Rich came into the picture I stopped going with them. Rich. Thinking about him brings a pain to my heart. And although working and running non-stop was surely a distraction, the truth is that I’m still sad, I still miss him. And suddenly my heart starts to beat really fast in my chest because I realize I haven’t checked my phone in hours and maybe, just maybe, he called. But when I dig into my pocket to check my phone the only texts are from my mom. I feel sadness and dread creep through my bones all over again.

“Hey!” Chelsea’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Come on!” I look up and realize she’s already bowled a few balls and I sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “Okay, okay,” I say, grabbing a ball and pausing a second before I roll it down the lane. I take a deep breath, get my footing right, and release the ball down the lane. Strike. “And ladies and gentleman, she’s still got it,” I announce, throwing my hands up in the air. “Twenty bucks says you cant do that again.” The voice belongs to a male and I swing around to find Andrew’s blue eyes staring back at me.

Evan grins from beside him. “Twenty? Don’t be cheap. Thirty says she can.” Andrew rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t betting you. I was betting Stephanie.” Evan starts to get cranky. “You never let me bet!” Andrew shrugs. “That’s because you don’t have a very good track record when it comes to betting on things.” Evan face starts to turn red and I see his hands clench into fists by his side. “One time! And you said that horse looked like a winner too!” “No, what I said was we should do a little more research before –”

“WE SAID WE’D NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!” Evan screams and I see the woman on the lane next to us shoot us a dirty look. I grab a bowling ball and look quickly to make sure the lane has reset before I close my eyes, concentrate, and release again. Strike. So here’s the thing. My dad’s a really good bowler. Like, really good. He even had a perfect game once -- he has a plaque for it and everything. Ever since I was a little kid he would take me bowling and teach me little tricks and techniques. I’m still nowhere near as good as he is, but I can usually get a decent amount of strikes. When Megan was old enough we started to take her every week with us.

It was never like my dad wanted us to be really serious about it -- it was just something we could all do together. But when Rich came along, family bowling night disappeared from my list of priorities. I swing my body around to see the reaction behind me. “Okay. So Stephanie’s on my team,” Evan announces, forgetting his tantrum for the moment. “I’ll get you shoes!” He starts to run off. Andrew’s staring at me and for a second I just stare back, but Chelsea’s laugh tears me away from his eyes. “Now that,” se says, “was impressive.”

I shrug a little uncomfortably. “Lucky tonight, I guess.” “Right.” Chelsea pulls the clip out of her hair and lets it flow down her back. “You totally have to ditch Evan and be on our team. They beat us every week.” I follow Chelsea’s eyes down to a lane on the other side of the bowling ally. I notice Evan’s brother, Tom. I think he just graduated this year. Next to him are Rachel and Mary White. I can feel Mary’s eyes on me and suddenly I feel really uncomfortable. Things you should know about Mary White: 1) She’s a twin. (See previously mentioned

Rachel.) 2) She looks like something out of a fashion magazine. Long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, flawless skin. Seriously she’s beautiful, and she knows it. (I know this because one time I heard her say, “Rachel you’re so pretty, so I guess that means I’m so pretty right?” Then she started laughing like she was soooo funny. Real witty, that Mary.) 3) She has an off again/ on again relationship with Andrew, and since she’s here bowling with him, I would assume they are on again at the moment. 4) She does not like me. I know this because one time in gym class when we were picking teams for softball she said, very loudly, “Don’t pick Stephanie, I don’t like her.” And that was that.

So as you can imagine, I’m less than thrilled about the possibility of spending the night hanging out with her. And judging by the nasty look she’s shooting my way, I’m guessing the feeling is mutual. Well, she has nothing to worry about. She doesn’t have to remind me this is her world, not mine -- I know that all to well. I look to where Evan is standing up at the front of the bowling alley then back to Andrew and Chelsea. “I actually can’t tonight. I have someplace to go.” “Where are you going?” Andrew asks. “Where?” “Yes,” he says more slowly, almost smug. “Where are you going?”

Shit. Why is he so nosy all of a sudden anyway? I mean what does it matter to him where I’m going or if I don’t feel like going stupid bowling with him and his stupid girlfriend? “Well,” I say, already starting to walk away, “I don’t really have time to get into it, so okay, I’ll text you later Chelsea, bye.” And then I run away. Literally, I run across the bowling alley and into the back room to punch out. It’s not until I’m safely behind the counter and near the time clock that I let myself relax a little. Jeez. What is Andrew’s problem? First he calls me out on my bowling, then he makes it out like I don’t have anywhere to be. I mean, I could have something really important that I’m supposed to be doing. Who is he to say?

I’m just about to swipe my time card into the little gray machine when I glance down and see it. The pile of bowling shoes pilled in a huge mess in the corner of the floor behind the counter, and I almost look away, I almost get the hell out of there and fast. But something stops me, and I think it’s the vision of Chuck coming in tomorrow morning and having to spend his morning sorting through all these shoes again, or maybe its that I’m honestly in no hurry to get home and have to pretend to be so happy about my new job to my family. Whatever the reason, I find myself glancing down the bowling alley, and once I see that Chelsea, Andrew, and Evan are already bowling happily and paying no attention to me, I curl up Indian style on the ground and start to sort through the

shoes. They really are a mess. Size sevens with size tens. Size elevens with size fourteens. Men’s and women’s shoes all mixed up. Some kids, some adults. They really should have a better system for sorting them. I’m just finishing up and thinking that it didn’t really take me as long as I thought it would when Andrew’s voice takes me by surprise for the second time that night. “Well, well,” he says from the other side of the counter, looking down at me. “What do we have here?” I shove the last pair of shoes into their slot, grab

my purse, and jump up. “Just finishing up.” “Chelsea never does that,” Andrew says, folding his arms across his chest. I roll my eyes and start to walk around the counter. “How do you know what she does?” “Because I know,” he tells me matter-of-factly. “Okay, so maybe she doesn’t, but I do. Sometimes you do things, you know, just to be nice. You should try it.” I walk past him toward the sliding glass doors. “Stephanie.” I swing around.

“It’s just funny, you know, that you were in such a hurry that you couldn’t even explain yourself, yet you had time to stay and sort through a million bowling shoes.” The expression on his face is curious and it’s the last thing I see before I swing around and stomp outside. Andrew Collins is very annoying. I mean, clearly he has issues. So what if he caught me in a lie? Did he really have to call me out on it in the middle of the bowling alley like a jerk? Why is it any of his business if I didn’t want to go bowling? Maybe bowling just isn’t my thing. That’s the problem with guys like Andrew Collins. He thinks just because he’s the most popular boy in school that he can just get away with whatever he wants, that he can just go

around talking to people any way he pleases, and that they will listen. HAH! Well, he’s in for a rude awakening because from this point on I will not think about him and his stupid perfect body that keeps popping up where ever I am. Doesn’t he realize some of us have bigger problems, like um, hello, trying to get over a broken heart? I’m telling myself how little I care about what Andrew thinks about me and how I can’t wait to erase him from my thoughts as I walk into my first day of summer school. Only it’s like the universe is laughing at me or something because the first person I see when I walk into my English class is Andrew’s best

friend, Evan. Great. Just what I need. Okay this is so not a big deal, I will just law low, sneak to the back, he wont even see me if I just – “STEPHANIE! YO, STEPHANIE, OVER HERE!” Evan is practically jumping out of his seat waving me over with his hands. Great, what is he doing? Doesn’t he know I like to slip through the cracks? I see a few people shoot each other confused looks, probably trying to figure out what Evan is doing talking to me since he’s like way more popular than I could ever dream of being. I consider pretending I don’t hear, but he’s pretty hard to miss so I force a smile and slowly walk

toward him. “There she is!” he exclaims loudly as I sit down. “The star of the bowling alley!” People are looking at us for sure now and I lower my voice, hoping he’ll follow my lead and lower his. “I wasn’t really a star- ” “Not to mention you looked HOT!” he says, just as loud as before. I did? Well, I mean, it’s not wrong to be flattered by a little compliment now is it? That never hurt anyone.

I smile in spite of myself. “I did?” “Totally.” Evan nods. And then something awful happens. I catch myself thinking, well, I wonder if maybe Andrew thought I looked hot. And then I hate myself because I know he didn’t. I know a boy like Andrew doesn’t think girls who don’t look like Mary are hot. And besides, I don’t even like Andrew. Why would I care if he thought I looked hot? I’m still trying to convince myself of this when Mary walks into the classroom a few minutes later, sits down next to Evan, and shoots me a dirty look. Great. Luckily the teachers already there and Mary was

late so she doesn’t have a chance to hear anything me and Evan are saying. The last thing I need is more attention than I’m already getting thanks to Evan. The way summer school works at our school is that you have the same teacher for both of the classes that you fail. So since I failed math and english I’ll take both of them back to back with the same teacher, along with the rest of the kids in the room. Which means Evan and Mary are both in both of my summer school classes. Which I wouldn’t care about except for that Evan is acting like we’re best friends or something. He keeps shooting me secret looks and even started passing me notes! At first I thought the notes must be something really

important or work related but all the first one said was “hey.” That’s it. Just “hey.” Like he was starting a conversation! I ignored the first one but then a few minutes later he sent me another one that said “Don’t ignore!” so then I started writing back and before I know it we were having a full on conversation. And the thing was, it really wasn’t weird at all. I would have thought it would be, but it’s really easy to talk to him, I think because he’s so laid back and really funny. If the teacher notices us passing notes she doesn’t say anything. One person who notices for sure though is Mary. I know this because by the third note passed she started making really annoying sighs and shooting me daggers. What’s her problem? It’s not like I passed the first note. Shouldn’t she be giving

Evan dirty looks? I don’t know if it’s all the note passing or just how nice our teacher is (no idea who she was before this class, but she seems super nice and funny), but the first day of summer school flies by. Honestly, it’s, like, super quick. Lucky for me Evan had to leave a few minutes early to drop something off in guidance before they went home for the day, so I don’t have to worry about having a whole conversation with him after class. I’m just gathering up my notebooks and the textbooks I got today when Mary clears her throat. I look up to find her icy glare less than a foot away from me. I sigh and take a step back to gain a little bit of distance.

She just stares at me for a second before she speaks. “Look, I don’t know if Chelsea’s lost her mind for the summer or something but I just want to make one thing clear; you aren’t anybody’s friend so just slink back into whatever hole you crawled out of and disappear again.” I roll my eyes and step around her. “You can relax, trust me. I have no desire to be a part of your world, or to take away any of your friends.” She laughs. “Don’t miss understand. You couldn’t ever take anything from ME, you’re more like an annoying bee that wont stop buzzing in my ear that needs to be dealt with.” But before I can answer she pushes past me and out the door.

This whole situation has gotten out of control. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally grateful for what Chelsea’s doing for me, but everything’s getting all mixed up. This is exactly what happens when people try to stray out of their element -everybody gets pissed off. Well no more. From now on, I will stay away from the situation completely. I will talk to Chelsea at work, nod hello to Evan in summer school, and completely clear my mind from any thoughts of Andrew Collins. The truth is, that’s what I want anyway. I didn’t sign up for any of this to make friends. I didn’t even do it because I wanted to, I did it because I had to. No more of their stupid games. I have enough troubles on my own without their drama.

I’m trying to wonder if maybe I can talk to Chelsea about telling Evan I’m not exactly interested in making new friends at the moment when I swing the doors to the school open and stop dead in my tracks. Because there, leaning against my blue Honda is Evan. He looks really impatient and seems to be tapping his hands against his knees in annoyance. I’m just about to turn around and sneak back into school but he spots me and his face lights up. “Steph! Hey over here!” I give a little wave and start to walk down the sidewalk toward the other side of the parking lot. I’ll just pretend that I have no idea what he’s doing there, leaning up against my car. Maybe

he’ll think he got the wrong car. I’m sure there are plenty of blue Hondas. At some point he’ll for sure just get bored and – “Where you going?” he screams. “Your car’s right here! SEE, RIGHT NEXT TO MINE!!!” I glance over and notice a red jeep parked right next to my car. Sigh. So much for ignoring him. How does he even know what kind of car I drive, anyway? Did he see me pull in this morning or something? I shrug and start to walk toward him. “I’m starved, you down for Wendy’s?” he asks me.

And everything in my head is saying make an excuse, leave, go home. This is a very bad idea and not the plan you have laid out for yourself. Yet somehow, I find myself climbing into Evan’s jeep with him anyway.

NOW The thing about having a broken heart is this -sometimes you don’t think you deserve to be happy again. Sometimes your self- esteem has been so beat down and so shattered that you don’t feel like anyone else could really care about you, because you don’t really care about yourself. Sometimes you just want to be alone, because you’re more content that way. That’s how I felt. I felt like myself and everyone else was better off if I was alone. Of course, the problem with this is that you end up missing out on things that could change you forever. Looking back on it now I realize that I wanted to be friends with Chelsea and Evan, and I wanted

to admit to myself that there was something about Andrew Collins that really got under my skin, that there was something about him I just couldn’t allow myself to let go of. Of course what we want to do and what we actually allow ourselves to do are two completely different things.

THEN The next few weeks fall into a simple pattern. Monday through Thursdays are reserved for summer school in the mornings (although if you ask my parents I’m taking a knitting class at the local college; don’t even ask how I explained that one) then Evan and me go and get lunch and head to the bookstore where we order coffee and do our homework together. Friday and Saturday nights I work at the bowling alley, and Sundays I relax at home. There are good and bad things about my new routine. Good things about my new life:

1) I’m kicking ass in summer school. Honestly, the lowest grade I got on a test was a 92 and all my homework is always done. I hate to say it, but summer school is kind of a joke, much easier than regular school. 2) I’m making enough money to pay for summer school and I still have enough left over to slowly start repairing my savings. 3) Evan has started to become what I consider a friend. I use the term “friend” loosely because yeah, we hang out and do our homework together, but we don’t hang out or talk besides that. 4) Chelsea and I are getting along really well at work, and she continues to be amazingly nice to

me. She has invited me out a few more times after work but I always have an excuse ready as to why I can’t. 5) I’ve managed to completely avoid Andrew Collins. On the nights Chelsea mentions they are going to bowl after work, I ALWAYS cut out early. Bad things about my new life: 1) I’m still lying to my parents about everything. 2) Mary stares me down every chance she gets, and I’m starting to think that maybe soon it will turn into something worse. I mean, if she doesn’t stop soon her face might get permanently stuck like that.

3) I’m still miserable about the Rich thing. I’m definitely better than I was. I only cried twice this past week, but I still feel like something isn’t right with me. It’s almost like a numb feeling. I don’t really feel the pain of anything anymore, but that’s because I don’t feel anything at all. One Thursday Evan and I are sitting in the bookstore working on our homework and eating lunch. I’m just tearing off a piece of my pizza pretzel (for those of you who don’t know what a pizza pretzel is, it’s this huge stuffed pretzel with sauce and cheese inside all hot and delicious, yum), when Evan slams his textbook shut and sighs. I jump a little and look at him. “Um, are we done with homework then?”

He shrugs. “I’m sick of summer school.” “We only have a few weeks left,” I remind him. He scowls. Yikes, he looks like he might start to throw one of his fits soon. “It’s not even my fault that I’m in summer school, you know? It’s Andrew’s. Did I ever tell you this story?” he asks me. I pause for a second before I answer because I know I have to proceed very carefully. I have heard this story, several times over the past few weeks actually. That’s because whenever Evan starts to get cranky about summer school he starts to tell me about why he had to go to summer school in the first place.

And if I don’t approach the topic very carefully he gets very worked up and starts yelling and usually starts texting Andrew telling him how he made him go to summer school, and how Andrew doesn’t even care. Evan says he has to go to summer school because the two classes he failed he had with Andrew. He said it was very hard to concentrate with Andrew always wanting to chat and “do best friend things.” I almost point out that Andrew didn’t fail those classes even thought he had them with Evan, or that from the few times I’ve seen them together it’s Evan who seems to be the distracting one, but somehow I don’t feel like this is a good idea. “Well,” I say slowly trying to judge how serious

the situation is, “we all have to put up with things from our friends when we care for them a lot, right?” I tear off a piece of my pizza pretzel and hold it out to him. “Want some?” Evan loves food. He honestly must have tried like everything they have on the menu here within the last few weeks, and he swears everything is the best. He looks at the pretzel and considers this. Then he quickly reaches out and takes it. “Well… I guess you’re right.” I nod. “We do all have to put up with things from our friends.”

I nod again. “Yup.” “It doesn’t mean they don’t care about us.” I continue to nod as I munch happily on my pretzel. Tantrum avoided. “I mean, I’m sure you and Emily have to put up with things about each other.” I nod again. “Absolutely we do, I mean – ” but then I catch myself because I realize what he’s just said. For the first time in a long time I don’t feel numb and for a second, a split second, there’s a shooting pain that comes right through my chest. Then it’s gone again, and the same cold empty feeling comes over me. I force a half smile. “Me and Emily don’t really

talk much anymore.” And by much I mean, you know, not at all. But he doesn’t need to know that. “You don’t?” he asks, and he looks shocked as he says it. “But you guys were so close.” “I know.” I say, nodding. Wait a minute, how does Evan know that? “Wait a minute, how do you know that?” I say aloud. Evan shrugs.“ You guys were always together in school, plus you made the best peanut butter cookies.” I feel the same pain in my heart. Me and Emily used to make these really good peanut butter

cookies from scratch. Both of our families were obsessed with them and we would make like four batches at a time because they were gone so fast when ever we did make them. I had no idea how Evan knew about them, though. “How do you know about the peanut butter cookies?” I ask. He smiles “Are you kidding? One time Emily brought a bag of them in for herself and she let me try one, and after that she would always bring me in a little bagful whenever you guys made them.” I didn’t even know Emily talked to Evan, and I definitely didn’t know anything about her giving him peanut butter cookies. But that is something

she would do -- Emily was always about making other people happy. I smile. “They were pretty good, weren’t they?” “Totally.” He agrees. “That’s a shame…she’s a really nice girl.” I nod. “She really is.” “So since we’re on the topic of friends…” he starts. “Oh, God,” I say. “What is it?” He laughs. “Nothing bad, I’m just wondering what the big deal is about me telling Andrew we hang out.”

When me and Evan first started doing our homework together, I asked him to not tell Andrew about it. It’s not so much that I didn’t want him to know, exactly. It was more that I didn’t want to deal with the drama and questions that would come with it. I knew Andrew would probably ask a million questions about why Evan would want to hang out with me or give him a hard time about it. Not to mention Mary was clearly completely crazy and the last thing I needed was her finding out I was hanging out with Evan and going all nuts on me. Somehow I feel like telling Evan about the first reason isn’t a good idea, so I decide to stick with the whole Mary’s nuts reason. “Well.” I say carefully. “No offense because I

know she’s your friend and all, but Mary made it kind of clear that I should stay away from you and Andrew.” Evan nods. “She’s a little over protective.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah ,just a little.” “So you have a crush on Andrew then is what you’re saying.” “No! I didn’t say that at all!” I tell him quickly. Where did he get such an idea from? I said nothing of the sort! “Its okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m totally used to it.”

What does he mean used to it? And who’s embarrassed? Not me, that’s for sure. Since I don’t like Andrew! “Used to what?” I ask him. “All my friends liking Andrew. I mean, I don’t know if you know this or not Step,” he says, leaning in close to me like he’s going to let me in on a really big secret, “but he’s kind of the most popular kid in our grade.” Yeah, no kidding. It’s kind of hard to miss. But all I say is, “Is he? I hadn’t noticed. Probably because I don’t like him and all.”

“Oh.” Evan flips his textbook back open. “Of course you don’t. But if you did, your secret’s safe with me.” Then he shoots me a wink and goes back to his homework. I’m sitting on my bed later that night replaying what Evan said over and over again when Megan bursts into my room and slams the door behind her. “Megan-“ I start. “Shh! Quiet! I heard mom say something about a cleaning night!” She reaches up and locks my bedroom door behind her. “But don’t worry,” she announces, throwing her pink book bag up onto my bed and unzipping it. “I brought us some supplies to get us through.”

“Um, what sort of supplies?” I ask her. “Well, for starters….snacks!” She starts to pull out a bunch of food. Chips, candy bars, gummy bears, cookies. “What did you do, raid our kitchen?” I ask her. But she just ignores me and keeps pulling things out of her bag. I’m about to tell her not to eat on the bed when my phone goes off, telling me I have a new text message. For a minute my mind races to Rich. I pick up my phone. One new text, from Chelsea. “Evan’s tonight? He’s having people over,” it says. I sigh, then throw my phone down on my bed without answering.

“Stephanie!” Megan pouts. “Are you even listening to me?” I look at her. “Look, this is nice but I’m not really in the mood.“ She pulls a DVD out of her bag and starts waving it around. “AND I brought Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam!” Oh, great. “Here’s a fun fact,” she tells me. “Demi Lovato and Joe Jonas actually fell in love while filming this movie.” “Did they?” I ask, trying to figure out how to get her out of my room.

“Yes, and everyone calls them Jemi but then they had a break up and all the fans were devastated.” She shakes her head sadly. “What sort of break up?” I ask, interested in spite of myself. “Just didn’t work out, which is even worse since they were friends for so long first. But she’s a better person because of it. She’s very strong you know, and very successful.” “Um, didn’t she go to therapy?” “Well sometimes you have to get help. Have you thought of seeing someone?” she says casually.

“Me?” I ask her, shocked. “Why would I see someone? I’m fine!” She sighs loudly. “I’m just saying if Demi can get over Joe Jonas, one of the stars of the Disney Channel, you can for sure get over what’s his name.” I look down at my blanket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I mean,” she continues, opening a bag of chips and taking one out, “how do you think I felt when my boyfriend cheated on me?” I look up at her skeptically. ‘You got cheated on?” She nods as she munches away on a chip. “Yup,

everything was great. Or so I thought, until there he was holding Jill Burns’s hand right in the middle of the playground.” “So what did you do?” I ask her. She shrugs. “I was sad for a while but then I just said ON TO THE NEXT ONE!” “On to the next one?” I ask, a little taken aback “Yup. ON TO THE NEXT ONE!” “Sounds hard,” I say. “At first, but whenever I get sad I just think of Demi. And you should, too, because if she can get over someone then you can, too.”

“Well,” I tell her honestly. “I guess that makes sense.” “Was he even that nice to you?” she asks me. I think about it for a minute before I answer. “No, I guess he wasn’t.” She nods. “People are like dogs you know, they treat you the way you train them to treat you.” I’m reminded of how much I love my little sister and I can’t help but smile at her. “Megan Elizabeth!” a voice comes from the other side of my bedroom door and I can hear my mom trying to turn the knob. “I know you’re in there!”

Megan gasps and jumps up onto the bed next to me. “I know you’re in there!” my mom says again. “It’s time to clean your room!” I glance at my sister and she shoots me a pleading look. “MEGAN!” my mom shouts. “She’s not in here, Mom,” I say. “Yes, she is! I saw her running this way just a few minutes ago!” “Nope, no one in here but me,” I say as Megan moves closer to me.

“Then open up the door if she’s not in there,” my mom says smugly. “I can’t. I’m in the middle of something personal.” Megan giggles beside me and I put my finger to my lips to signal her to be quiet. “In the middle of what?” my mom says, trying to turn the handle on my bedroom door again. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be personal, now would it?” I call out, shooting Megan a grin. “Open the door!” my mom says. I don’t answer.

“Stephanie?” she calls. Silence. “Don’t you ignore me!” Megan and I are both giggling now, clasping our hands over our mouths to try and muffle the sound. “Oh, just forget it.” She sighs and we hear her start to walk back down the hall. “Oh thank you!” Megan says happily. “Thank you so much.” “That’s what sisters are for,” I say, smiling. “Now,” she says, very serious. “Are you ready

for an afternoon filled with Jemi?” “Totally ready,” I tell her. “Great!” she says, jumping up and running over to my DVD player. And as she does I grab my phone, hit reply, and send a text to Chelsea. “I’m in.” Then I slide my phone shut, grab a bag of pretzels, get settled under my blankets with Megan tucked safely next to me, and get ready for the show.

NOW Here’s the thing: sometimes it’s the person you least expect who pushes you into doing something. If Megan had never come into my room that day, I never would have texted Chelsea back. I would have rolled over and gone back to bed or continued to feel sorry for myself all night. But that’s the thing about that moment when you snap out of it. It can be the tiniest comment that does it and it usually comes at the time you least expect it.

THEN The party is in full swing by the time Chelsea and I pull up to Evan’s house later that night. The driveway is completely filled with cars and there’s about ten other cars parked up and down both sides of the street. “Um,” I say to Chelsea as we step out of the car and start to walk across the street. “I thought you said he was having some people over.” Chelsea takes her hand and smoothes down the light blue dress she’s wearing. She looks amazing as always. Her dress is paired with black high heels and her hair is really curly and falling over

her face perfectly. She’s wearing this silver glitter eye shadow and I swear she has on fake eyelashes. I mean, there’s no way her eyelashes can just be that beautiful on their own, right? “He is.” She nods. “When I think of having people over, I think of a few, not the whole entire senior class.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.” Suddenly, I’m really nervous. I didn’t know there were going to be so many people here. Actually, it’s not so much that there’s so many people, it’s that they’re people I don’t really know. I mean, I know them from school and stuff, but not on the level that I would ever actually hang out with them outside of school. I didn’t actually belong

with this crowd and I knew they would be really surprised to see me here. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I would get. Chelsea must see the look on my face because she places her hand on my arm. “Hey, relax, okay? I’ll be with you the whole time. Plus you look hot!” I look down at my outfit and allow a half smile to creep out. I’m wearing a black mini skirt and a light pink shirt that ties across my stomach. I’m even wearing these little black heels that I borrowed from my mom (and when I say borrowed, I mean, you know, took.) My hair is straight again and I used the make up Chelsea gave me to do my best

“night time” look. “Besides,” Chelsea continues as we walk toward the door. “Mary won’t be here. She and her family went to Boston for the weekend.” I relax a little. At least I won’t have to worry about running into her. “It’s going to be great,” Chelsea assures me as we step onto the porch. The door swings open before we have a chance to knock and Evan greets us with a huge grin on his face. “Alright!” he exclaims, clapping his hands

together. “My girls are here!” Chelsea just shakes her head and pushes past him. The second the door closes behind us I can feel almost everyone’s eyes in the room on me. I know right away what they’re all thinking -- what the hell is she doing here? If Evan and Chelsea notice people gaping at me they don’t say anything and instead start steering me through the crowd toward the couches in the back of the room. “You okay if I go grab us some drinks?” Chelsea asks me once we’ve stopped moving. “Of course she’s fine! I’m right here!” Evan announces, throwing his arm around me.

Chelsea looks at me like ‘um, is this okay?’ I nod and let her know I’ll be fine. I mean, it’s only a few minutes. “So,” Evan says once Chelsea has gone to get the drinks and we’re alone. “Don’t worry, Mary couldn’t make it tonight.” I nod. “Yeah, Chelsea told me.” “I’m surprised you agreed to come,” Evan says. Ugh. I do not want to talk about why I’ve avoided Evan outside of our homework sessions, so I search for a subject change and fast. “So where are your parents?” I ask quickly. “Why?” he asks suspiciously. “What did you

hear?” “Nothing, I was just curious.” He narrows his eyes. “Because they dropped those charges, you know.” “What charges?” I asked, confused. But Evan isn’t paying attention anymore. Instead he’s staring across the room to where Andrew is walking toward us. Andrew’s wearing faded blue jeans and a dark blue button up shirt. Evan turns back to me and rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at him.” “Okay,” I say, figuring it’s best to not ask questions. But then Andrew is right next to me

and it seems kind of rude to just ignore him, so I don’t really have a choice but to look at him. “Hey,” he says, nodding at me. “Hello,” Evan says before I have a chance to say anything. “Did you come over here to say sorry?” Andrew shakes his head. “Say sorry for what?” “Don’t play stupid.” Evan says. “For the last time,” Andrew says, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t eat the rest of your sandwich.” “It was in the fridge when you got here and was gone by the time I got out of the shower so who else would have taken it?”

“Evan,” Andrew says slowly. “If I ate it why wouldn’t I just admit it?” “JUST TELL THE TRUTH!” Evan says. Andrew grins. “Maybe you ate it and forgot like last time.” Evan’s face starts to turn red and he looks at me. “Stephanie, tell Andrew I’m not talking to him until he apologizes for what he did to me.” And then he stomps off, leaving me alone with Andrew. Great. “Andrew,” I say, “Evan is not talking to you until you admit you ate his sandwich and apologize for it.” Andrew shoots me a half smile and shakes his

head. “I kind of got that.” “Well,” I say, “In his defense, you should never come between a person and their sandwich.” “You heard me,” he says casually. “I didn’t eat it.” I roll my eyes “Oh, please. You ate it.” He shrugs. “No, I didn’t.” “Yes, you did.” He pauses a second before he answers. “How do you know?” “Because,” I say, not meeting his eyes. “You like getting under Evan’s skin.”

“Not really.” “Yes, really.” “How do you know what I do or don’t like?” he asks with a curious look on his face. I meet his eyes for the first time. “I just know.” He studies my face for a second but before he has a chance to say anything Chelsea is back with two red cups in her hand. “Here.” She hands one of the cups to me. “I hope beer is okay.” I nod. “That’s fine.” I’m honestly not a very big drinker, never have been, but in social settings I’ll have a little alcohol once in a while. I take a small

sip and cringe at the taste. I catch Andrew muffling a small laugh and I shoot him a dirty look. “So,” Chelsea says, trying to sound a little too casual. “Did you come with Brad?” Andrew shoots her a grin. “Why? Were you looking for him or something?” Chelsea shakes her head and glances around the room. “No. I was just wondering.” She’s lying. I know because on the way over here Chelsea was totally obsessing over the fact that Brad Masini might be here. She was all like, “Do I look okay?” and “Should I go up to him or should I wait for him to

come up to me?” Brad Masini is this kid in our grade with dark black hair, tan skin, and a nice smile. I don’t really know him but supposedly he’s this like amazing football player or something. And Chelsea seems to be obsessed with him. From what I could gather she’s planning to finally “make her move” tonight. Whatever that means. “There he is!” Andrew says, pointing toward the front of the room. “Shh!” Chelsea slaps Andrew’s hand down. “Don’t point!” “You should go talk to him,” Andrew tells her. “He asked me if you were coming.”

“He did not!” she says, a smile spreading across her face. “I swear he did.” Chelsea looks from Brad to me a few times and I can tell she’s torn because she wants to go talk to him but she doesn’t want to leave me. “Go ahead,” Andrew says. “Me and Stephanie have to run to the store anyway.” “You do?” Chelsea asks. “We do?” I ask. Andrew shakes his head. “Evan is almost out of food and I can just see him blaming that on me, too.”

Chelsea looks at me with a pleading look in her eyes. And really, what can I say? I mean, it’s not Chelsea’s responsibility to babysit me all night. If she wants to go talk to her crush she should be able to. So I nod to let her know that it’s okay. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaims and then she takes off. “Come on,” Andrew says, starting to walk toward the door. “My car’s out front.” And I find myself following him. Andrew’s car is, like, spotless. Rich’s car always had fast food bags crowding the floors or papers and trash on the seat. The second I step inside

Andrew’s car, though, I can tell he’s different. I don’t even see a trace of dust anywhere. He must notice me looking around because he laughs out loud. “Something wrong with my car?” I shake my head no. “It’s just really clean.” “Oh, I get it,” he says, nodding. “You used to date a guy who had a messy car, right?” Ugh. He could honestly be the most annoying person on the face of the earth. Why does he have to assume that just because I happened to look around his car it was because I dated a guy with a messy car? “No, actually, I didn’t.”

He smirks. “Seems like you did to me.” “Well, I didn’t,” I say, sounding sure of myself even to me. “Whatever you say.” He turns the car on and shifts it into drive. I roll my eyes and reach over to turn the radio on. He pushes my hand away playfully before I have a chance to hit the power button and I snatch my hand back. “Oww!” “Oh please,” he says, “that didn’t hurt.” “Yes, it did.”

“No, it didn’t.” “Yes, it did!” I tell him, even though it didn’t. “You can’t tell me if something does or doesn’t hurt.” “Yes, I can, now put your seat belt on.” I scowl but reach over and put my seat belt on anyway. “You’re really annoying,” I announce. “You find something wrong with everything I do.” “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. Let’s have a talk about it.” A talk about it? He wants to have a talk about it? No thanks. He’s just looking for an excuse to get

under my skin again. I think I’ll pass on that. “Lets talk about why you always try to get under Evan’s skin,” I suggest. He chuckles. “I don’t try to get under his skin. You just assume I do.” “Oh, so we aren’t being honest with each other then?” I shoot at him coyly. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, as if he’s thinking about what I just said. Then he shrugs and starts to talk. “I don’t know. It keeps things interesting, I guess. He’s been that way ever since we were kids, picking stupid fights with me. It’s just how we are. And yeah, sometimes, not all the time, I do stupid things to

mess with his head, like eat his sandwich.” I smile. “I knew you did it.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. And I know what you’re thinking, but Evan is actually a really good friend.” “What is it that I’m thinking?” I ask. “You know,” he says as we pull into the parking lot of the gas station up the street from Evan’s house. “That he’s a lot to put up with.” “Actually, I wasn’t thinking that at all.” Andrew pulls the car into a parking spot and turns off the ignition. “Really?”

“Really,” I say, opening my door. “I think he’s nice. Why, is that what some of your other friends think?” Andrew nods and we start to walk into the gas station. “Yeah, certain people give me a hard time about it.” And I know who he’s talking about without him having to say anything else. Probably people who he plays sports with or people who hang out with Mary who think that you can only be friends with certain types of people. Just hearing about it makes me feel sick. “Why do you have that look on your face?” Andrew asks. We’re inside the store now and Andrew’s filling his hands with different kinds of

chips, cookies, pretzels, and an enormous amount of candy. He’s moving so fast that I’m not even sure he realizes what he’s picking up. “What look?” I ask as he picks up a bag of peanuts and shoves them in my arms. “That look like you’re going to throw up or something.” I shrug. “We just live in completely different worlds, that’s all.” He nudges me toward the counter. “Not really.” “Yes, really,” I say, throwing the bag of peanuts on the counter. “I mean, last time I checked no one was allowed to give me any shit about my friends.”

“Hey, there,” the girl behind the counter says, looking directly at Andrew and completely ignoring me. She’s younger, with short blonde hair, way too much make up, and a shirt that looks like something my little sister would wear. Andrew smiles and the girl starts to scan the items on the counter. “Someone’s having a party, huh?” I roll my eyes and Andrew shoots me a smirk. “Not me.,” he says, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “My friend.” “I like to party,” she says and then she winks at him. Literally, she winks at them. Um, really? Does

anyone even do that anymore? Wink? I mean, honestly. “I’ll be in the car,” I announce, and then I turn around and walk out the door before either of them have a chance to say anything. I’m leaning against the passenger side of Andrew’s car when he comes outside a few minutes later. “Thanks for staying to help me carry the bags,” he says, holding up two huge white bags that are overflowing with snacks. I shrug. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the keys, then unlocks his car doors. “No need to be jealous, Stephanie.”

I glare at him. “Please. I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t feel like sticking around to witness her pathetic attempt at hitting on you.” He drops the bags of snacks into the backseat, and I slam the door shut behind me. “Oh no,” he says, “you don’t sound jealous at all.” “Well, somehow I don’t think Mary would like that,” I tell him smugly. “Well, I don’t think she has a right to say anything since me and her aren’t dating.” I roll my eyes and he keeps talking. “And for the record, no one gives me shit about who I’m friends with. I talk to who I want, when I want, and I really don’t care what anyone has to say about it.”

I don’t say anything, not because I don’t believe him, but because I can’t help but wonder if that applies to me. I wonder what his friends would say if they knew he had invited me to the store with him tonight. Or if Mary knew, what she would say. “I’m surprised you came tonight,” Andrew breaks the silence as we creep closer to Evan’s house. I think about shooting a snotty remark his way or turning it into a joke but for some reason I stop myself. I think it’s because somehow I know that he wouldn’t buy it or that it wouldn’t work the way it did on Evan. “I am, too,” I say softly as he parks on the side

of the road a few houses away from the party. “It’s okay to allow yourself to have fun, you know. Just every once and a while.” He smiles and then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of peanut butter cups and holds them out to me. “Here.” “How did you know they were my favorite?” I ask, looking at his hands and not making any move to grab the candy from him. “You were eating them that night at the bowling alley, right?” And then I do something crazy. Maybe it’s because I know I get these butterflies in my stomach whenever he’s around, or maybe it’s

because for the first time in a long time I feel just a little bit like myself again. It could be that I can’t lie to him because somehow he can see through me. Or maybe it’s just those damn peanut butter cups that push me over the edge. Whatever it is, I find myself throwing myself on top of him and crushing my lips against his. Not even because I want to, but because something inside of me tells me I need to. But what’s even more crazy is that his hands are in my hair and he’s kissing me back. Andrew Collins is kissing me back. And it’s absolutely amazing. So here’s the thing. Andrew Collins could be the best kisser to ever walk the face of the earth. I

mean, not that I’ve kissed that many boys. Only four to be exact, and one I don’t even remember. Not because I was drunk or anything, but because I was only seven and it was at my cousin’s wedding. I don’t even know if I kissed him for sure. My mom and dad just told me I did. But that’s not the point. The point is that Andrew is for sure the best kiss I’ve ever had. It started off really intense, probably because I pounced on top of him, but after a few minutes we started to slow down and kind of set into a rhythm. And then suddenly it would get intense again. We didn’t stop making out. I mean, we did, but not for, like, at least twenty minutes. And that was only because Chelsea pounded on Andrew’s car window and interrupted us.

“What are you doing?” she exclaims. “I’ve been calling you! Evan’s parents came home and they are pissed! We need to get out of here NOW!” Then, before I have a chance to protest, she swings open Andrew’s passenger side door and grabs my arm, dragging me out of the car. “NOW!” she says again. “They’re calling people’s parents! Bye, Andrew, it was nice seeing you.” And then she slams the door shut and pulls me after her toward her car. “What. The. Fuck. Was. That?” she asks me. And all I can do is shake my head because I don’t know what it was. And now it’s the next morning, and I’m laying in my bed thinking about it, and I still can’t figure it

out. I mean, what was I thinking just throwing myself at him like that? I have no idea what came over me, no idea what I was thinking. Andrew and I are from completely different worlds. It would never work. Not to mention I’m not the type of girl who just goes around kissing boys randomly. And Andrew Collins of all people! I don’t even like him! He drives me absolutely crazy. Not to mention the whole Mary situation. Ugh, how could I be so stupid? I mean, he said they weren’t dating, but who really knows? If they really were he wouldn’t have kissed me back, right? Unless he’s that much of a jerk.

The whole situation is starting to drive me a little crazy. So I decide right then and there to forget that it happened, because I already knew how it would end. With Andrew back with Mary, and me making a fool of myself. Might as well save myself the trouble.

NOW The thing about a broken heart is that sometimes, even if there’s something that starts to make you happy again, something that starts to make you feel like maybe you’ll be okay again ---well, sometimes you don’t think you deserve to have it. Sometimes you feel like you should still be miserable. But mostly you’re just really scared of it, so you push it away. You push it down deep into the bottom part of your soul and make yourself forget that it was ever there to begin with.

THEN I don’t hear from or see Andrew for a week and a half after the night we kissed. Which is just fine with me. It’s not like I expected him to call me or anything, I don’t think he even has my number. I come to the conclusion that he must feel the same way I do about that night -that it was a horrible mistake. I’m almost beginning to wonder if maybe I’d dreamed the whole entire thing when there he is. Andrew, I mean. He’s just standing down at the other end of the bowling alley with Evan, getting ready to bowl. He’s early too, because I always make sure I’m gone by the time they get here.

Seeing him makes me realize that there’s no way I could have possibly imagined what happened between us, because a feeling of dread washes over me. “Have you talked to him since that night?” Chelsea asks, coming up beside me. I shake my head no and she sighs. “What are you going to do?” I look at her and then I start gathering up the plates and empty beer bottles left behind on lane twelve. “I’m going to finish clearing these tables, then I’m going to count my drawer out, and then I’m going to head home for the night.” Chelsea frowns. “No, I mean what are you going to do about Andrew?”

I shrug. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” she asks. “You can’t just do nothing.” “Sure I can,” I say. Chelsea doesn’t say anything and for a second I think maybe she’s mad at me but when I turn around I see why she got so quiet. Andrew’s walking right toward us. I’m about to make a run for it when Chelsea swoops in grabs the plates out of my hands and announces she’s taking them to the kitchen for me. Then she runs off. I have no choice but to stay put -- if I move now it will be totally obvious that I’m taking off just because he’s coming over. He’s wearing a pair of khaki shorts with a dark green polo. His hair is

sticking up a little in the front and I feel my stomach start to flip as he gets closer to me. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” I say, turning around and starting to wipe off the table. “How have you been?” “Fine. I mean, good. Or great. Actually, I’ve been great.” I’m totally babbling. “Um, okay.” He sounds unsure. “So I was hoping you’d still be here.” “Why?” I ask, turning around to look at him. “Well,” he says looking me in the eye. “I thought

you might want to talk or something.” He thought I might want to talk? Is he kidding? Talk about what? How I completely threw myself at him and made a fool of myself? No thanks. “What do we have to talk about?” I ask, shrugging. He looks a little taken aback. “Um, I don’t know…” “Well, have fun bowling,” I say and start to walk away. “Yeah, thanks,” he says, and for a second I think I got away with it , for a second I think I’m in the clear. But then I hear his voice. “You’re unbelievable.”

And when I turn around the look on his face is one that’s filled with anger. Yikes. “How’s that?” I ask slowly. “Well,” he says in a snotty tone. “Who jumps on top of someone one night in a car and then wants to pretend it never happened?” I frown. “It’s not that I want to pretend it never happened. I just don’t think there’s any point in talking about it.” He shakes his head and starts to back away from me. “You know what? Whatever, Stephanie. If you want to continue to live in your little fantasy world go ahead, ‘cause I’m done trying to break through.”

Wow, my little fantasy world? Is he kidding? “My little fantasy world? Okay, Andrew, whatever you have to tell yourself.” “I don’t tell myself anything,” he snaps. “You walk around choosing to shut everyone out, you act like you could care less what anyone thinks, when inside you’re screaming to talk about what you really feel. You hide out with Evan during the week making him not tell anyone, because God forbid anyone thinks you actually have a friend. So what do I think, Stephanie? I think I feel bad for you.” He feels bad for me? Bad for me? Is he kidding? I don’t need sympathy from anyone, especially not him.

I laugh out loud. “You feel sorry for me? Oh, give me a break. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Is that why you kissed me back? Because you felt sorry for me? Oh, poor Stephanie, the sad girl who walks around all day with a book and who’s such a loser that she throws herself at your perfect self so that she’ll feel something again, right? Well, don’t worry, Andrew, no one will find out about the other night. I can’t wait to forget it myself.” He walks slowly toward me and places both of his hands on my shoulders. “I didn’t kiss you back because I felt bad for you, and I could care less about who finds out.

I feel bad for you because someone fucked with your head so bad that you’re too scared to let anyone in who might just give you something to be happy about. Even if they’re right in front of you, looking you in the eye, you can’t do it. “ Then he drops his hands and shakes his head. “And that’s just sad.” He turns around and walks away, leaving me standing there alone with nothing left to do but watch him go. By the time I get home and walk into my house I’m crying. I feel like I can’t breath and like my heart might explode in my chest. He has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m not scared of anything. I keep my distance from people because I like being alone. I like things less

complicated. He can’t tell me who I am. He doesn’t even know me. “Stephanie?” my mom says, getting up from couch as I burst through the door into the living room. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I say, trying to push past her toward my room. All I want is be alone, to go in my room and shut the door and never come out. “I’m just tired.” “No,” mom says, not letting me past her. “Just leave me alone, Mom, please just leave me alone.” I try to push away from her but she grabs me and pulls me into her arms. “Please,” she says. “Please let me help you.”

And for the first time in a long time, I do. I let her help me. I let someone help me. I tell her everything. I tell her about what Rich did to me, about how I wasted all my money on him, how he shattered me. I tell her about summer school and my job at the bowling alley. I tell her how horrible I was to Emily, and I tell her about Chelsea and Andrew. About what happened with Andrew and about what he said to me tonight. But mostly I tell her about how empty I feel, and about how awful I feel about myself. My mom doesn’t interrupt me, she lets me talk and get everything out. Everything that I have been holding onto for months, and when I’m done talking she takes me over to the couch and I curl up next to her with her arms around me.

Even though I know I let her down, even though I know I let everyone down, it feels so good to finally tell someone, to finally say everything out loud. Sometimes you can only hold things in for so long before you reach a breaking point. After a few minutes of silence except for my quite sobs, my moms pulls away and looks at me. “So what are you going to do about it?” “About which part?” My mom thinks for a second. “All of it.” “There’s nothing I can do.” My mom smiles. “Of course there is. People mess up all the time. It’s how you fix it that really matters. Besides, you’ve already started.”

Is she crazy? I’m sitting here crying my eyes out. “No, I haven’t, Mom.” She looks at me seriously. “Although I don’t approve of how long you dragged out the lying, you did pay for your own summer school. You have been doing well with that.” “Dad’s going to flip out.” She nods. “Probably. But being mature is about dealing with the consequences of your actions. Stephanie, your world isn’t over because you lost a guy. Your happiness doesn’t depend on one person. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I promise you this is a very, very small piece of who you are.”

“Mom,” I say. “I want to be okay again.” “Then let’s make a plan about how we’re going to get you there.” And so we do. It’s been a few weeks since that night at the bowling alley with Andrew, and I haven’t talked to him since. I haven’t talked to Chelsea either, or spent any time with Evan after summer school. After that night, my mom thought I needed a little bit of time off from everything except for school to get things in order. So she called the bowling alley and told them I needed a few weeks off, and told me I was only allowed to go out for school. When we told my dad about what happened he

was really mad at first, but after a lot of talking he finally calmed down. They agreed that I should have to pay for summer school myself since it was my fault that everything got so far out of hand. My parents agreed to let me try to earn their trust back again, but I know it will take a while since I was lying to them for so long. I also started seeing a therapist a few times a week, but eventually when things calm down my dad says I can slow down to a few times a month. I never thought I would need therapy, but sometimes life throws things at you that you just don’t know how to deal with on your own. The therapist is actually really nice and I already feel better this week then I have in a while. Me and my parents put together a budget for me,

started looking at colleges, and we talked. Talked about everything. It was nice, but there were still things left that I needed to take care of, things I still needed to make right. There were a lot of things I’d realized these past few weeks, but I was still really scared of the things I still had to fix, because let’s face it -- knowing you have to do something doesn’t make it easy. I’m telling myself this as I pace back and forth in front of the bowling alley exactly two weeks later. I’m telling myself the hardest thing and the right thing are the same, but it isn’t exactly doing anything for the huge rock of nerves rolling around in my stomach. Everyone I need to talk to is less than a hundred feet away, everything I have to do tonight is here

and now, and that thought is a lot to handle at the moment. I run my hands through my hair and remind myself to breath, and then I gather up all the courage I can and start to walk inside. Chelsea and Evan are standing up at the register laughing about something and I relax a little because Andrew isn’t anywhere in sigh. It might be a little easier to talk to the two of them without Andrew around, at least at first. “Hey,” I say, walking up to them. “Stephanie!” Chelsea says, pulling me into a hug. “Where have you been? I called you like a million times! You are not going to believe what happened to me! Brad totally asked me out!” I grin at her. “That’s great, Chelsea, really great.

I’m happy for you.” “Thanks. I have to tell you exactly how it happened. So there I was, just minding my own business and –“ “What about me?” Evan says, interrupting her. Chelsea shoots him a dirty look. “What about you?” “Well, maybe Stephanie wants to hear about what’s been going on with me.” “But she sees you everyday in summer school,” Chelsea points out. “Yes, but I have a very exciting life. New things are always happening that I need to tell people

about right away.” Chelsea laughs. “That’s ridiculous, you do not –” “I totally want to hear all about everything that’s going on with both of you,” I say, interrupting them. “But can I talk to you guys for a second first?” They both stop and look at me. “Sure,” Chelsea says. “Is everything okay?” I nod. “Yeah, I just …Chelsea, I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me this summer. You didn’t owe me anything that day in the hall at school, in fact you barely even knew me. But you helped me sneak into summer school, you got me this job, and I’m really

grateful.” “YOU SNUCK INTO SUMMER SCHOOL?” Evan asks, practically screaming. Chelsea ignores him. “Oh, Steph, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to do it, all of it.” “Still,” I say. “You didn’t have to and I just wanted you to know I feel really lucky to have you as a friend.” She smiles, then pulls me in for another hug. When I pull back I turn my attention to Evan. “And Evan, you wanted to be my friend without any questions asked, with no restrictions, and in the most non-selfish way ever, and I repay you by making you lie to people about us hanging out. It was a really selfish thing to do and I’m sorry.

My only defense is that for a while I was too scared to allow myself to have friends again. But that doesn’t make what I did to you right. So I’m really, really, sorry and I hope you can forgive me.” I bite my lip and wait for his response. He grabs me and pulls me into a hug. “That was beautiful,” he says. “Just beautiful.” “Oh, jeez,” Chelsea says from beside us. “You’re gonna make him cry.” “Come here, Chels,” Evan says, grabbing her arm. “Group hug time!” And to my surprise, Chelsea lets him pull her toward us and that’s how we all stay for a

minute, hugging in the middle of the bowling alley with people walking all around us. And you know what? I don’t even care, because they’re my friends. They truly are. When we all finally break apart, I let out a little sigh and try to sound casual as I ask if Andrew’s there. Evan nods and points to the other side of the bowling alley. “Down there.” I turn around to look where he’s pointing and my heart falls in my chest when I do. Because Andrew’s not alone. Standing next to him, cheering him on as he bowls, is Mary. I don’t move for a second, and I’m not sure how I’m going to, but I know that somehow I have to.

“Maybe right now isn’t the best time to try and talk to him,” Chelsea says to me. She’s right. I could turn around and run out of here. I could take what I said to Chelsea and Evan and call it a night. But that’s something the old me would do, the me who didn’t want to allow herself to feel anything. So I push the doubt out of my mind and shake my head. “No. It has to be now.” And then without another word I start to walk toward him. With each step I take, I start to feel more and more nervous, and by the time I reach him I feel like I might pass out. “Hey,” I say, just as he picks up the bowling ball to roll it down the lane again.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” “No,” Mary says behind me in a snotty tone. “Actually, you can’t.” Andrew’s eyes meet mine, and for a second I think he’s going to say yes, I think he’s going to come with me somewhere so he can hear what I have to say. But then he shakes his head. “It’s not really a good time, Stephanie.” And then he turns around and gets ready to release the ball. I sigh and turn around and start to walk away, and as the bowling ball makes contact with the pins, I hear Mary start to jump up and down clapping for him. I stop. I stop dead in my tracks. Because I didn’t come this far for nothing. I didn’t come this far to

turn around and go home without even saying how I feel. I turn around and I walk back up to them, so close that there’s barely any distance between Andrew and me. “Fine,” I say. “You don’t have to talk, you can just listen.” Andrew looks a little taken aback. “Look, Stephanie –” “No, you look,” I say, cutting him off. “You were right, okay? I was scared – no, I was terrified. I was so hurt by someone from my past that I didn’t think I could ever be happy again. I was scared to even try. But you made me realize that maybe that’s not a way to go through life, you made me realize sometimes its okay to need

people. I’m trying to say I like you, Andrew. I really like you.” Mary laughs next to me and I turn to her. “Shut up, Mary.” She looks shocked for a second and then she shuts her mouth. “I’m sorry for the way I acted, I am. But you knew me, even when I tried to hide and maybe I ruined my chance, maybe it’s too late but I just--” “Stephanie,” Andrew says, cutting me off. “Stop. Just stop.” His eyes are glued to mine and I can feel my body going numb at the thought of him walking away and never looking back. “You know what I did the past few weeks?” he asks me. “I tried to forget you. I tried to push

you out of my thoughts and pretend I didn’t care if you were getting in the way of your own happiness.” I look down at my feet. “But I couldn’t,” he tells me. “No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get you out of my thoughts, and so I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re supposed to be there. You drive me crazy, you know that?” he asks me. “I like you, too.” And then in one swift movement he’s kissing me. Right there in the middle of the bowling alley with everyone watching, Andrew Collins is kissing me. I hear Mary gasp beside us, but we don’t stop kissing for what feels like forever, and when we

finally break apart she’s gone. “I’m sorry I lost myself for a while,” I say. He pushes my hair behind my ear and smiles. “Its okay. You’re here now.” And then we kiss again. I grip Andrew’s hand tight and sigh. “I’m really nervous.” “I know.” He nods. “But I also know this is the right thing.” “What if she slams the door in my face?” “Then we’ll try again.”

I smile. “Thanks for coming with me.” “Of course. Want me to come up with you or wait in the car?” I stop and think about it for a minute. It would definitely be easier with him by my side, but I got myself into this mess. I’d been the one to treat Emily the way I had, so it was up to me to fix it. And that was something I needed to face alone and on my own terms. “No.” I shake my head. “I should do this alone.” He nods. “Okay. I’ll be here.” He squeezes my hand and I lean in and brush my lips against his. A flash of heat runs through my body and I smile. “You’re still coming bowling with me and my

family tonight, right?” I ask. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” I smile and let myself relax. “Okay, I’m ready.” I step slowly out of the car and start to walk toward Emily’s house. I know she’s home because her grey Honda is parked in the driveway. With each step up her sidewalk my heart starts to beat a little faster in my chest. This isn’t just anyone. Emily knew me better than anyone else did at one point, and the more I thought about it lately, the more I realized how much I missed her. I knew I had really hurt her and I could only pray that she would at least hear me out. I’m carrying a plate of peanut butter cookies in my hand.

Andrew had come over that morning to help me bake them. After stopping at Evan’s to drop some off, we had come straight here. Waiting for the door to open after I ring the bell feels like an eternity. When it finally does open, Emily’s on her cell phone and the second she sees me the smile that’s on her face vanishes and is replaced by one of pure shock. “I’m going to have to call you back,” she says to whoever’s on the other line. Then she flips it shut and looks at me, not saying anything. “Hi,” I say slowly. “Hey,” she says in a voice not much louder than a

whisper. “I know you probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, I really don’t.” “I don’t hate you, Stephanie. I don’t even know what happened between us.” “Can I come in? And just start to explain?” I ask her. She doesn’t say anything and I hold the plate of cookies out to her. Her face softens and sadness fills her eyes. “Peanut butter?” she asks. I nod. “I know it can’t make up for what I did to you, but it’s a start.”

After a minute she takes the cookies and steps back from the door. “Yeah, it’s a start.” I step inside and she shuts the door behind us.

NOW So how do you heal a broken heart? How do you get over someone? The answer is the one that, most of the time, people don’t want to hear. The real answer is time, combined with a million other little things. You allow yourself the time to be okay again. You remind yourself that it’s okay to be sad because you lost something you cared deeply about. You can’t let that sadness consume you though; you can’t let it take over who you are. The second you do, you miss out on so much. Don’t keep everything to yourself; don’t be ashamed or embarrassed to talk to people, because I learned that everybody has gone

through this at one time or another. I learned that just because one person doesn’t want you, it doesn’t mean that your world is over. Of course it’s hard to see all of this until you’re out of the situation. One day you wake up and they aren’t the first thing you think about anymore, one day you wake up and realize that you have to love yourself before you can really love anyone else. The hardest part though, is feeling like you have no one, like no one understands. It’s the feeling that everyone else is okay and you’re never going to be. The truth, though, is that it gets better. The truth is that with just a little bit of hope, it gets better. I promise.

And don’t forget to look for WHAT’S MEANT TO BE, by Kels Barnholdt, available now on Kindle and Nook