That was a slap to the face. I'm still standing there in shock.

"W-What?" I stammer.

"Yeah," Gretchen says staring up at me, her eyes honest and true. "It's more like, she's in love you."

I wince at that statement, the full complexity of the situation hitting me hard.

She had feelings for me. And I pushed her away. What am I going to do?

A million thoughts raced through my head. But the thought sticking out in my brain was, did I like her back? The first bell rings for the last class on the last day of school.

I know she won't be late for a class. I'll do something then.

"I have to go Phineas," Gretchen says starting to walk away. She stops and turns around to face me again. "I hope you figure this out."

I'm sitting in my desk, right beside Isabella's, waiting for her to show up. I do anything I can to get my nerves under control. My phone buzzes.

Isabella: Not gonna be in class today.

I glance around the room. No one's looking.

Phineas: Why?

Isabella: Got library duty.

Phineas: On the last day of school?

There was no reply after that. I sigh quietly. The entire class period I'm drawing on a sheet of paper. During the end-of-the-day announcements, I look at what I've been drawing. A well-detailed picture of Isabella stares back up at me. It hadn't registered what I'd drawn, but I have gotten every curve right. Mastered the beauty and solemness in her smile. Perfected those amazingly beautiful eyes. Something wet drops on my desk. Wiping a hand across my mouth, I quickly realize I've been drooling.

Wow, I think, maybe I do like her back.

The final bell rings; my tenth grade class spills out to the parking lot filled with semi-expensive cars and trucks. I stay in class for a longer period of time than usual, slowly gathering my things. Mrs. Mitchell watches me over the top of her glasses as she fills out some paperwork.

"Phineas, is there something wrong?" she asks. I'm guessing she got tired of me still being here.

"No, ma'am," I say swiping my things into my bag in a quick flourish.

"You were awfully quiet in class today," she says, staring at me plainly. "I noticed that Ms. Garcia-Shapiro was not here. Was that the reason of your silence?"

"I..." I say, thinking up a good excuse, "was just thinking about what I could do this summer." I smile earnestly.

Mrs. Mitchell searches my face for any kind of faltering. "Okay, then," she says, returning to her paperwork. I let go of the breath I've been holding as I walk out the door. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I speedily text Isabella.

Phineas: R U riding with me today?

Isabella: ...

I wait on the reply, already out of the school and nearing my car.

Buzz, Buzzzz.

Isabella: No, I'm riding with Gretchen.

I deflate.

Phineas: Okay. See ya later.

Pulling out of the parking lot and taking the long way home, I begin to think about everything that happened today.

Do I like Isabella more than a friend?

I ponder on that question awhile. All I can think about is her. My focus slips from the road...

...just as something runs in front of my car.