It’s Wednesday, and I stand infront of my house, along with many others, watching the parade go by. Trumpets sound and drums beat. As expected, Xander is nowhere in sight. I had hopes maybe he would show up at the last second, that maybe he would feel guilty for ditching me. I was wrong. So instead of cheering with the people all around and enjoying myself, I stare blankly at the individuals wearing a variety of bright colors. Cheerleaders flip and twirl and jump for joy as they follow the excitement of the parade. My dad decided to come out of his room to stand with me and watch. Of course, this does little to soothe me. He smells of sweat and wine, and his hair in unkept as though he’s just rolled out of bed. Dad was never very harsh to me before, when he wasn’t in control of his addiction. But he did become quickly distant, and more frequently I’d find him screaming at me for unknown reasons. This would be another good reason to have Xander here. He doesn’t really like my dad, to say the least. He’s respectful and kind, but the way he interacts with him, you can tell he doesn’t appreciate the way he treats me. So now that I think about it, I suppose he is harsh. My dad clears his throat next to me. “This is pretty cheery, isn’t it?” I can easily tell he doesn’t mean it, and I don’t need him making me feel worse. “Dad,” I turn to him and look up to his bloodshot, emerald eyes. The sight of him makes my stomach flip. He’s so pale. “You don’t have to be out here. You can go back inside.” He scoffs and combs a hand through his greasy hair, looking at me with an expression I can’t read. “What’s this even about,” he goes on. I feel my heart sinking further into my chest. “Too much noise and color—” “Dad, please,” I speak louder than originally intended. We stare at each other for a moment. Then he nods his head, clears his throat once more, and turns around to walk towards the house. The sight of him is too overwhelming. He’s been careless about his health and appearance. I love him, and I know he’s just hurting. He misses mom. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior. Lately I’ve felt the only grown-up in the house is me. That’s a lot of pressure to carry. I feel sorry for telling him off, but he wouldn’t have stopped criticizing the parade. Negativity is not something I can handle as of now. My head is pounding with confusion, and a splitting headache as I hardly got any sleep last night. I probably should’ve drinken water after crying so much, but I was too depressed to get out of bed. You know that feeling of utter hopeless and loneliness that feels like something’s throne a weighted blanket over you? It makes moving harder, and sometimes you just want to give up entirely. Sometimes I want to just lay down on my bed until everything magically rights itself. I suppose that’s the horror of life—the crippling emotions that break you. If not for the sense of negativity and fear of losing, I would be more confident. Its kinda like horror movies. It seems scary, but once you take away the sense of fear and utter hopelessness, what hold do they have left on you other than the one you allow them? If only this were so easy. If only this were a dream, and I could think my way out of everything bothering me. Xander and I would have a chance, and perhaps I’d just turn Bethany into a nagging mosquito. Xander hates mosquito’s. They’re his biggest fear. “If one comes a suckin, Xander goes a runnin,” I would say. Yeah, it’s cheesy, but the truth. My phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts. If magical thinking existed, I would’ve been surprised by Xander suddenly texting me. But I’m not. He probably wants to ask about last night, if I’m okay. I tap the notification, and our messages pop up. “𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖?” It reads. My mind immediately shoots to the fact I’m his _second_ option, his backup. But then I chastise myself for ever thinking such a thing, because I know it’s not true. Then I remember what Bethany had told me: _“…You’re not a good influence on Xander, and you should stop talking to him…_” If I do this, I want to do this the right way. So I respond with: “𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍??" I know she will, of course, so maybe this isn’t the correct way of going about it. But if Xander says it’s okay, then who is she to protest? Almost as quickly as I send the text, I receive another message saying how he is coming to get me as we speak. Anxiety has already taken a strong hold over my not-so-steady stomach. This probably isn’t the best idea. I didn’t want to talk to him last night. I’m not so sure I want to today, but I can’t help it. He’s so important to me and he makes me happy as much as I’m sad. There is a moment of instant regret after I send a thumbs up emoji. Why did I agree to ice cream? _Because as much as you’re hurting, you still like him too much to not take an open opportunity to see him_. The parade marches on with its dancers, drums, bagpipes, and other odd obscurities. It’s almost over and it still stings so much that my best friend in the whole world missed it. It’s almost laughable—the irony. He dropped out on a yearly tradition only to see his girlfriend, and then she was called away. So, in reality, if todays events would’ve taken place all over again, he could’ve been here with me. _God, my train of thought is making my head throb more_… I’m not sure when, but everyone eventually clears out and goes back home. I remain in front of my house, sitting on my sidewalk. The street before my eyes is oddly interesting now. Eventually, another shadow joins mine and sits. I know who it is. “Whats up, Gi?” I don’t want to look at him, but something compels me to meet his line of vision. His brilliant blue eyes search mine. Hopefully I don’t have bags under my own. He wears a white hoodie and shorts. He’s a big shorts guy and I always poked fun at him for it. Today, I couldn’t seem to spot anything to make fun of, though. Because he’s perfect. I’m heavily persuaded to move his black hair from his face, but I refuse the urge. He doesn’t smile when I do. Instead, his brows slightly crease together, and he stares down at me with a gentleness. “What’s going on?” he asks. I know exactly what he means. Why do I look so unhappy? Why had I hung up so quickly last night? Why was I crying?—There’s no use in trying to hide that part. He obviously knows. I open my mouth to speak, but find I have no answer. Or, not an answer I feel led to give. “Alright.” He sighs and pushes off the ground. “Let’s go get some mint chip.” He knows Mint Chocolate Chip is my absolute favorite ice cream. It almost makes a real smile appear to my portrait. But I don’t allow it to surface, because obviously none of us feel like smiling much. I rise and wipe the grass from the back of my light pink shorts. He waits for me to meet his gaze before he begins walking to his white sports car. I follow closely behind. The drive was more than quiet, and once we got our ice cream he parked in front of my house. When’s the last time we did this? “So,” he finally speaks and takes a lick of his chocolate chip. “So…” I stare out the window but I feel his eyes on me. Its so unnerving. “Talk to me,” he says. What he really means is: Why do I seem so sad and distant? He shoulder know, I think. He’s the reason. Not that it’s his doing, because it’s not. This time I finally turn to him. It’s cruel how unbelievably beautiful he is. My mind swirls with so many thoughts and memories that all come down to me trying with difficulty to keep myself together. “Okay,” I say with a small smile. “The ice cream’s great. Thanks.” He sighs and looks down to his feet before turning back to me. He can’t know how I really feel about him. It will ruin everything. We’re best friends. If we weren’t, he’d still have others, but not me. He’ll never understand how hard it is for me to accept people and for them to like me. “Gianna, please. We both know something’s up, so just tell me already.” He sets his ice cream cup down in the cup holder and twists his body to show I have his full attention. “I—” he grabs the mint chip from my hands and places in the other holder next to his. Xander looks so amazing—too dangerously magnetic for me to keep staring so easily. I look out the window but suddenly feel strong yet gentle fingers urge my chin back towards him. Then he wipes tears from my eyes. I’m not sure when I started crying, but all I know is I can’t stop now. Xanders brows crease together as he uses the sleeve of his hoodie to dab at my face. “I can’t,” I say, but it’s so faint, so helpless. And I can. “Gi, you can tell me anything. You’re my best friend here, remember?” he says. _That’s the problem_. I don’t want to just be his friend! I want to be his everything. I want to be the first thing he thinks of when he opens his eyes. And wouldn’t it be spectacular if the second I opened my own, he would be the first thing I see every morning? No, that’s just one of my ridiculous fantasies. He places a hand on my thigh and rubs, tenderly. It’s nerve wracking more than it is reassuring. There’s a battle going on inside my head and one side—the side I’m trying best to keep under wraps—might win if he doesn’t stop. Maybe I should leave. “It’s okay,” he speaks. “No, it’s not,” I cry. “Well why don’t you tell me so I can help you?” “I can’t, Xander,” I try. “_You_ can’t.” “Let me at least try,” he pleads. That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. It’s no longer clear who’s in charge of my head. But all I know is the battle has been won. I grab him by the caller and pull him close before he can even think about what’s going on. Then I press my lips to his, and an explosion sets off. At first he tenses and stays so still. But after a moment, he indulges, and he kisses me back as though he’s wanted to his whole life. Or maybe those are simply _my_ thoughts getting in the way. His arms wrap around me and then rest, tangled in my hair. God, I hope no one’s outside. I nearly laugh. Who cares if some one sees? I feel my chair go back, and then Xander’s on top of me. It’s all so shocking, but I don’t want to tell him to stop. I feel the heat of him through his clothes and sigh as he presses a lingering kiss to my neck. But then he stops and stares at me.

_I still remember the third of December_ __ _Me in your sweater_ __ _You said it looked better on me than it did you_ __ _Only if you knew_ __ _How much I liked you_ __ _But I watch your eyes as she walks by_… I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling above. You know, the one that he used to say was like a real glimpse into space. Stars that glowed like fireflies looked back at me almost in a sort of inquisitive way. “Where is he?” they asked. He’s with his girl. Obviously it’s not me… The song “Heather” plays over my speaker while the world continues on without me. Funny how a song seems to be able to express your feelings more than you ever can. My best friend, Xander Ulitsares, since preschool has a girlfriend. I have liked him ever since I could imagine, but I didn’t ever want to tell him for fear of it ruining our friendship. I still haven’t told him. Part of me thinks that maybe if I had, he would be with me right now, instead of at Bethany Hillbirds house. He’s called her pretty before, but I thought it was just an observation. He’s called me beautiful. I guessed it was like that, but I was wrong. _She’s got you mesmerized while I die_… Tears slip down my cheeks. God, that line couldn’t be more real. Bethany is a fake. I never told Xander the multiple times she bullied me, because he loves her so much. But I also thought he knew she was a bitch. Evidently not. Tonight, before Xander and her departed from the end-of-the-year party at our school, she came up to me in private and told me I couldn’t speak to him anymore. That I was a “bad influence on him.” I said nothing. He loved her so much and even though I didn’t, she was his girlfriend, and I tried hard to be kind. But it truly did hurt to watch him walk back from the bathrooms, wearing a smile on his face. He was completely oblivious as she pressed her lips to his right before my eyes, and mumbled they should leave. He had waved goodbye to me, and said he would see me later. Bethany turned around to glare at me right as they were leaving. She mouthed: “Remember what we talked about.” _Watch as she stands with her holding your hand_ __ _Put your arm ‘round her shoulder _ __ _Now I’m getting colder_… He used to do that to me. Xander to used wrap his arm around my shoulder at football games and comfort me when my father was a total dick. I still remember that day so clearly. After ten whole years of never consuming one pill, he’d started up again. I’d found about two and a half empty pill bottles in his room and called Xander right after. I was so shocked I could hardly speak. Xander had driven all the way over to my house to pick me up. He bought me ice cream and I slept over his house. We fell asleep on his bed. It wasn’t anything weird. We’ve known each other our whole lives, and he didn’t know I liked him. Come to think of it, that’s when I stopped denying I had crush on him. I just knew I could never tell him. God, I wish he were here right now. If not to wrap his arms around me, just so that I could look into his deep sapphire eyes and perfect black hair. Just so I could watch his lips and pretend for one second, one moment, that he was mine— no. No, I can’t think like that. _Why would you ever kiss me?_ __ _I’m not even half as pretty_ __ _You gave her your sweater_ __ _It’s just polyester_ __ _But you like her better_ __ _I wish I were Heather_… Funny, those are all thoughts I’ve considered before—_believed_. I never believed I was really that pretty. Xander told me he thought I was, but Bethany had all the features I wanted. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Friends. I hated my chestnut hair and green eyes. Some girls at school would compliment me, how petite I was, but I always believed I was too skinny. Too small. Too quiet. Completely undeserving of a great guy like Xander. It all happened so fast. One day he was sitting with me at lunch. The next he couldn’t seem to focus on our conversations as much, because he would be too busy doting over Bethany across the room. Then, before I knew it, he was hanging out with her all the time, laughing with her. Laughing with her like he laughs with _me_. Right as the song ends, my phone starts buzzing. It’s late. I look at my clock for the time—1:27 in the morning. Have I really been up that long? My room is framed by glum colors of purple and blue as I lift my phone and stare at the screen, the light reflecting off my face. _Xander_. I look at the name and photo I have for him. The name is just his name drawn out with an emoji—“Xanderrrr🤪” His profile is one of my favorite moments with him. It was from when we went to an “All-Nighter” for our school and got high off of candy and soda in our gym. I cought him making the ugliest face I’d ever seen him do, and ever since it has been the first thing I see when he calls. But it doesn’t make me giggle this time. Not even a smile crosses my face. I don’t exactly know why, but I pick up. I force a smile to my face and answer as positively as I can. He can’t know I’ve been crying. "𝙷𝚎𝚢!" I say with enthusiasm I don’t really possess. "𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝙶𝚒," he says, “𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚑'𝚜." An ugly feeling arises in the pit of my stomach. It causes my throat to feel weighted and my eyes to water. Just hearing her name makes me angry and sad all at once. I feel betrayed, but I know Xander isn’t betraying me. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍?" He asks. _No, I’m not “good.” Your dumbass girlfriend practically called me toxic_. I wanted to say that, but I didn’t. "𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝! 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌," I reply. A tear slips from the corner of my eye. My voice shakes and I sniffle. I wipe it away, and chuckle, nervously. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎?" He has to know something’s up, otherwise he wouldn’t ask twice. “𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑," I lie. "𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒'𝚖 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎!" "𝙾𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑. 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝--𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜!" Since when has he ever missed the parade? It’s our favorite part of every year… "𝙾𝚑..." I slip up, and a small sob escapes me. I quickly cut it off. "𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚗, 𝚒'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚢. 𝙱𝚢𝚎!" "𝙶𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝--" Before he can ask anything more, I hang up the phone and fall face-first into my pillow. My phone buzzes next to me again, but I ignore it. I know it’s him, and I don’t want to speak.