Tori.

Jade strolls into the janitor's closet and before I close the door, I poke my head outside to make sure that the hallway is vacant.

Not a single person in sight.

I shut the door; my heart is beating in my ears like a bass drum. Jade folds her arms and casually leans against the wall, which only worsens it.

Because, God, that pose is attractive.

She is staring ahead with an uninterested expression on her face, but I can see through that. Her brilliant blue-green eyes are gleaming with worry. She is biting her lip as well-another sign of anxiety.

I think it's amusing how I can determine how she is feeling about this conversation, but I cannot tell how she feels about me.

I do my best to conceal my own anxiety. "Jade-"

Of course, she interrupts me: "Vega."

I ignore her response and continue: "Jade, I need an answer."

And I do. The whole "I'm completely heterosexual" facade has been making me sick. Jade has been lurking in my mind for years, and I assumed that I was insane. Then, five months ago, when the cold-hearted beauty came bursting into my living room with mascara streaks down her cheeks and wet hair plastered on her face, I realized that I cared about Jade more than I would have liked to. And that simple thought replaced my assumptions and my self-questioning.

She cocks an eyebrow-the left one, which is adorned with two studs on either side. "Oh?"

"Yeah," I say. I gulp; I have been rehearsing this ever since lunch, when I saw all that pain channelling out of her eyes. Jade is a master at disguising her emotions, but little does she know she conveys how she is truly feeling through her eyes. If they are vibrant and almost an electric blue, then she is happy (or at least content). If they are murky, then she is angry. If the green shines more than the blue, then she is nervous.

Right now I'm not seeing a lot of blue.

Suck it up, Tori.

"We need to talk about the breakup," I tell her, my voice shaky. "You know, the one between you and Beck."

Her lips are pursed together in a thin line. Her eyes are gradually fogging up, the green still glimmering like an emerald.

"What other breakup is there?"

I almost wince at her harsh tone. Now her eyes are narrowed in an infuriated glare. Her hand is resting on the work table behind her, inches away from a hammer.

"Not your breakup in general," I clarify, and her shoulders relax a little. "I just want to talk about the night you went to me for comfort in particular."

Instantly, her posture is rigid and her hands are clenched tightly. Her face is a bright red in fury, but her eyes tell my otherwise. They're show fear, completely and all-consuming fear. This question scares Jade.

"Tori, that means nothing," she says coldly through gritted teeth. Her eyes shut briefly in a wince. "Absolutely nothing."

"Out of the two times you and Beck have broken up, you have gone to me both times," I state pointedly. "You could've gone to Cat-you two have been friends longer-but instead you went to me. You went directly to me, makeup all messed up and hair matted from the rain, and you sobbed on my sweater." It is true. Once I opened the door, she had leapt into my arms and wept endlessly for ten consecutive minutes. "I still have the mascara streaks on my sweater."

"That's not creepy at all."

"I haven't gotten to washing it yet."

She waves her hand, disregarding the subject. "Your house just so happened to be the one closest to where I was."

My teeth grit together. "Twice. My house was conveniently closest to Beck's house twice." I shake my head, my heart burning as if a fire is raging within me. "Let me tell you why that's bullshit."

She rolls her eyes. "For fuck's sake..."

"My house is the farthest away from Beck's. In fact," I sneer, Jade's eyes widening as I speak, "the house closest to his is Cat's apartment. Your 'best friend' since childhood."

She is silent for a moment; I back away, believing that she will slap me.

Instead, she says in an unfamiliar meek voice, "I did go to Cat's house."

I raise an eyebrow, mocking Jade's earlier response. "Oh?"

She chuckles humorlessly. "Yeah. Right after I went to yours."

Oh.

I nod slowly. "Okay...okay." I clear my throat. "Now, onto the next question."

"Hooray."

"What do you feel for me?"

The anger drains from her face, immediately substituted by fear. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, but I can still see them shaking violently.

"Excuse me?" she says; she does not sound mad or scared. Her voice is deadpan, emotionless.

"What do you feel for me?" I ask again.

She heaves a breath through her nose. "Tori."

A storm of emotions is stirring inside of me: Apprehension, anxiety, affliction, and another a-word I can't quite put my finger on. "Yeah?"

"Don't ask me that question ever again," she tells me. The hostility has returned to her voice. Her eyes are narrowed in a menacing glare.

"Jade-" I implore.

She snatches the hammer and waves it in front of her in a threatening manner. I back up into the wall.

"Never. Again." She hurriedly darts out of the janitor's closet, abandoning me and my emotions.

Sorry for the short chapter! I hope you liked it.