Chapter 2

MY 16TH BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION turned out to be agonizing. Internally agonizing, I should say. Everyone was clueless about the torturous pain behind my smiling face except Avery and me. Up to now, a week after, I still couldn't believe I survived that day, having witnessed the countless PDAs between Art and his Paisley.

Art and his Paisley.

I wouldn't deny any way I say it doesn't make any difference in the pain level it brings to my body. It hurts so much. I feel like it goes deep into my soul every time I remind myself that Art and Shelly are no more.

God bless Avery, for she made me go over all the party shenanigans in a breeze. She never left my side. We've been exchanging sleepovers in each other's houses for a week since my birthday. In school, we avoided Art like the plague. We started bringing packed lunches to avoid going to the cafeteria. So it's not just to avoid sharing our table with him, but to never see him and his girl together.

Though the nights of tears welling lessened, the inner pain lingered. Finally, I decided I needed to remove anything that reminded me of him from my system. So I took all our pictures around the four corners of my childhood bedroom—eight years of Halloween, school dances, Christmas, New Year, and birthday photos. Three boxes of everything Art now contain what I thought would have been my happily ever after. Memories that will stay boxed instead of what I planned to show to our future children and grandchildren.

So much for re-enacting how I met your father and your grandfather.

"What's these, Shells?"

My mom's surprise appearance made my heart beat faster. Without saying a word, I can tell with her contorted face and widened eyes what's going on in her mind. Her vision swept through my now empty walls in seconds.

"Oh, Sweetie! What happened? Did you and Art fight?"

Instantly her arms were around me. The heaviness I was feeling in my chest got more intense. Finally, it formed a lump in my throat. My wish to keep calm and never shed a tear in front of my mom didn't happen. The moment her warm hands cupped my face, her brown gaze disarmed me. Tears welled in my eyes as my chest heaved fast and deep.

"My sweet, Shelly!" Her one arm tightened on my shoulder as the other massaged my back gently. "You know you can tell mom anything." Mom's whispering voice seared with both pain and choked tears.

"There's no more Art and Shelly. Mom!"

All the tears I thought I cried out days ago erupted. My whole body convulsed in sobs. I know there was nothing promised regarding Art and my relationship beyond friendship. But how can I make my heart follow the logic of my mind?

***

"I talked to his mother." Mom cleared her throat after sipping coffee from her mug as we shared breakfast. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

Three weeks had passed since my breakdown. I thought it was only to console me when mom said she would talk to Art's mom. I forgot that my mom always goes by her word.

I waited for her to continue talking, but she sipped her coffee again.

"It turned out she wasn't happy too."

"Mom." My voice croaked. I closed my eyes to control my tears from falling. But deep in my heart, I know she was doing what she thought best.

"It's alright, Sweetie. I didn't say anything."

When I opened my eyes, I saw her staring at me. Then without another word, she placed the newspaper down and held my hand.

"I just asked if she knew that Art now has a girlfriend. She had no idea and wasn't happy that it wasn't you."

"It's okay. I'm fine." I bit my lip and attempted a smile. "Art can choose who he wants. Nothing was promised between us anyway."

Immediately I gulped my juice and stood up. I kissed mom and whispered goodbye. Then, without looking back, I got my bag and walked out to my car.

When I reached the school's parking lot, everything came back. All my memories with Art, from the first day we met to all the countless pairings and costumes we've shared. It was like feeling the hugs and gestures Art showered me all those years.

But did I read the signs wrong?

Helpless and with an aching heart, I let my tears fall. I gripped my hands on the steering wheel as I bowed my head. Good thing I arrived earlier than usual. It will give me time to let all my tears out. Why did I have to experience a broken heart before my first love?

"I hate you! I shouldn't have met you!"

I started banging my poor steering wheel. Though I don't know which or who to blame, it felt cathartic imagining it was Art's chest I was hitting. Suddenly a series of taps on my window sounded. Startled by the sound, without thinking, I lifted my head and looked where the sound came from.

Voila!

Peeping on the glass is the one person I'm dreading to see.

I hate him more.

How can he still make my heart flutter and everything inside me somersault? After all the heartaches and sleepless nights he'd caused me the past weeks, it's still him. Only him.

Art tapped my window again when he saw that I was only staring at him. I wiped my tears with both of my hands and fixed my hair. He tapped louder when he noticed that I was taking my time.

"What?" I hid my nervousness with the irritating sound of my voice. "Are you trying to break my window or something?"

"Are you alright?" His brows raised as his eyes gazed at me. Oh, his gaze. His gaze that I love so much. Whenever he looks at me that way, I feel like he's looking through my soul. A look so deep it reaches my heart, where his name is etched.

"Shells, what's going on?"

I responded with a glare. "I'm okay. And even if I'm not, it's not like you care!"

"What does that mean?" His jaw tightened.

I took a deep breath. "That means I don't want to talk to you." I looked away and picked up my bag, pretending to look for something inside.

"Shells, this is insane. You've been avoiding me since your birthday. I've been trying to call you. You don't answer, and you don't read my texts. What's going on?"

When I got off my car and motioned to walk away, I felt a sudden jolt of current coursing through my left arm.

"What's your problem? I don't have anything to say to you." My eyes stayed on his hand pressed to my arm.

"Yeah? Well, I have something to say. And I want us to talk now."

I gently pulled my arm away from his hand and stared at his face. Avoiding his gaze was torture, but I needed to endure to save whatever pride I still had in me.

"Our class will start in 15 minutes, and I have to get books in my locker."

Art brushed both of his hands on his hair. A gesture I know he does when he's getting frustrated. And whenever he feels such, I always comfort him. So, like auto-pilot, I pulled one of his hands and squeezed it.

"What about we talk while you walk me into my locker?" Way to go avoiding him, Shells!

A smile curved on Art's face. His killer smile never fails to shoot my heart bulls-eye. Like before, he immediately took my bag and car key from my hand and locked my car. The butterflies which I thought left my body since my birthday came alive. My chest felt like bursting with unexplained emotions.

As we walked towards the building entrance, I glimpsed his face. Art's smile was up to his ears. He had the same happy look I always see whenever we were together.

I miss him. I miss us.

Feeling him beside me made me realize how I still long for him. My feet stopped, like my sadness halted my body from moving. Can I stay away from Art forever?

"Hey, Shells! Let's go!"

I saw his hand moving towards mine. I knew what he was going to do next. Art would hold my hand like he usually does when he wanted me to hurry or whenever he was eager to show me something. I knew what would happen to my heart once his hand held mine.

Should I let him?

"Shells!" Avery's voice called from behind.

"Arty!" A familiar voice followed.

Art's face grimaced, then he took a deep breath. I turned around and saw Avery's growling face directed at Art. Paisley wearing a broad smile, followed behind her. My heart sank. And like all the time, my best friend saved my day. Immediately, she took my hand and led me toward Art, who was forcefully brushing his hand on his hair.

When Avery took my bag and key from his hand, Art hesitated, which earned him Avery's outburst.

"You don't have a choice, loverboy! Your pastry is here. I hope you get a sugar coma!"

"Shells, please." Art whispered to me.

But Avery didn't let me say a word. "Shells, what?" Her eyes darted at Art.

"I need to talk to Shells, Ave."

Avery looked at Paisley, who now stood beside Art. Then, to everyone's surprise, Avery tapped Art's chest and yelled.

"Go figure, Arty!"

After Avery held my hand in silence, we started walking toward our classroom, leaving the two standing at the entrance.

Once we were seated inside the room, Art and Paisley entered. Our glares welcomed Art's gaze in our direction. Though I wanted to believe he had forgotten about me, I couldn't figure out the look on his face.

"Art doesn't look like he's getting the sugar rush he needs!" Avery whispered in my ears with a chuckle.

"Ave, please," I whispered back.

"What? I'm just telling the truth." Avery pointed at her right temple and smirked.

She started scribbling in her notebook while blabbing. "I realized what we need to do."

Once done, she placed her notebook in front of me. Then, as if I couldn't read what she had written, she encircled the words with force.

***