Author's Note: I got bored and decided to imagine a scene. I just really want to protect Amy, but we all know we can't protect her from potential heartbreak. So sad. :( Anyway, I hope you all don't totally hate it. I own nothing except an empty hamster cage and this laptop.

Get It Out

There are some days it's hard to meet her eyes, especially when she says something so completely off the wall that I just want to laugh and stare at her forever.

She isn't mine. She isn't mine. She isn't mine.

She isn't mine.

I repeat it to myself like a mantra. She makes adoring eyes at Liam from across the cafeteria, and I'm pretty sure she's daydreaming about things that I don't want to know about with him. Things that make my skin crawl and bile rise up in my throat.

Guilt crushes down on me from all sides. How did it end up like this? We were only pretending; it was supposed to be fun, just another one of her silly plans that pretty much guaranteed her the dream high school life we talked about in the dark cabin of our junior high camp bunk. Now I couldn't stop noticing the way her eyes lit up or the way her lips quirked up higher on one side when she smiled goofily. I couldn't stop noticing how beautiful she was. I couldn't stop noticing her.

I don't know what I'm feeling. This thing, it breaks my heart. I see her looking at him the way I wish she was looking at me. Am I a lesbian? How could I not know?

She tosses a grape at me.

"Where are you?" she asks me, concern washing over those wonderful eyes.

"Uh… Ri-right here," I say finally. I look down to my untouched lunch tray and wonder when we even got in the cafeteria line.

"No you're not; you're spacing out on me."

"I'm just thinking about the homework for English."

"We have homework?"

I fight down the blush that threatens to engulf my face in hot, red flames.

"Our essay? On transcendentalism?"

I pray she hasn't been paying much attention in class. She looks thoughtful, shrugs, and laughs.

"I guess I've been spacing too," she admits. "But Liam is just so hot. And he keeps sending me all these cute, flirty texts!"

"Nice," I try to be supportive. Her eyes narrow as she drops her hand on my arm.

"Amy? What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I say hastily, my voice a lot higher than I'd intended. "I'm just distracted, that's all. Mom keeps looking at me and running into another room crying, and I don't know how much longer I can take the noise."

She suddenly leaps up from her seat and sits on my lap, wrapping me in a tight hug. I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes. I try not to be creepy, I really do. I try not to commit the way she smells, the way she feels, into my memory. I want to go back to a less confusing time where we're just best friends, and I don't have to deal with my heart pounding terrifyingly loud in my chest. Tears burn at the corner of my eyes, and I feel like if I don't let her go now, I may never let her go at all.

I drop my arms but she just holds on tighter.

"You can always come live with us," she murmurs into my hair.

Alarms flare in my mind.

"As much fun as that would be, I don't want to give up my bedroom after the fiasco I endured to keep it," I say.

I congratulate myself on coming up with that in the blink of an eye, but Karma doesn't seem to be at all convinced.

"I know when you're lying, Amy," she sighs, pulling back to look at me.

I drop my eyes to the table. Her stare is hot and loaded with all these questions I don't feel like I'm ready to answer.

"Amy."

She says it in such a "mom" manner that I cringe.

"What?" I snap.

"Now I know something's wrong," Karma sighs, sliding off my lap to sit next to me and grip my hand. "Tell me. I thought we were best friends."

"We are!"

She shoots me a look, and I know I can't avoid her forever. I have to say something to at least appease her. I adore everything about Karma. The last thing I want to do is lose her over some stupid place that I've found myself in. Which also means I can't exactly profess my burning love and adoration for her or she'll be weirded out then our friendship will find itself in a weird place. I can already see it now. I'll have watched everything on Netflix, and she'll have had sex multiple times with Liam in the backseat of his stupid car. Maybe they'd even end up getting married and having tons of adorable babies that can also play the guitar and sing like tiny little angels. No, I need to tell her something about what's going on with me lately.

But I can leave out some truths. It's not lying, not really.

"Karma, I know we started this pretending to be something we're not," I began shakily, "but I don't think I'm pretending, not anymore."

"Wait, you want to be my girlfriend?"

I hastily scoot away from her, face scarlet, defenses rising.

"No!" I shriek. "Ew, like dating my sister!"

"Whoa! I don't have cooties or anything!" she glares at me.

"No," I try again, "I just mean that I don't… I don't think I'm a hundred percent…straight…"

"Is that all this is about?" Karma asks, and I can see a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Amy, you should know I love you no matter what, Buttface. I thought you were going to ditch me to go hang out with the Teen Moms for the next eighteen years!"

"What? No!"

"Okay then," she says and scoots back closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder and taking my hand. "Still best friends forever."

"Yeah," I echo back and pray it doesn't sound as hollow out loud as it did to me, "best friends forever."