GABRIELLA

Senior year, day eighteen.

"Whose jacket is that?" I ask Morgan when I walk into 2nd period.

"Someone hot."

I laugh, taking a seat, "Ryan's?"

She nods, squealing a little bit, showing me his embroidered name. "We were walking from the parking lot and he asked if I was cold."

"I'm not sure it's even supposed to be cold today."

"Well, then, I'll give it back to him when I'm not cold anymore," she tells me, "but isn't that, like... so nice? I mean, it says his name on the freaking jacket if you look at it. I know things are new and we're getting to know each other, but this is like telling everyone, hi, we kind of like each other, you know?"

I nod, "yeah, definitely. Are things good? I mean, he had to have known people would notice."

She smiles, "things are good."

I feel like I've been preoccupied with my own shit lately, my grandma, Chris, that I haven't been a good best friend to Morgan, who deserves me to be.

"I think he's a great guy," I tell her, "don't rush into things, though."

"Definitely not."

I know she's not because she's never had a boyfriend and the reason is because she's nervous about having one.

Everyone's got to start at some time, though.

"Are you okay?" She asks me, "Are things good with you?"

"Yeah."

I'm being the worst friend.

Her head's been up in the clouds lately with Ryan that I don't think she's noticed how aloof I've been. I mean, I'm here, but my mind really isn't. And I don't think she's even noticed that I've barely asked her about her and Ryan. Which I guess is good.

I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like I have to hide something from her because she's been nothing but a good friend to me these past couple of years.

"Okay," she nods with a smile, but I don't think she's totally convinced.

But I've never lied to her before.

So, I don't think she has a reason to think I am now.

I hate this.

"You're not going to work on your paper?"

Chris, who's way into his phone right now, doesn't even look up when I ask him.

I wait a moment before asking again. But when I do, he still doesn't look up from his phone.

"Chris?!"

"What?" He finally looks up, "relax, I'm setting my lineup."

"Relax?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, looking down at his phone again, "well, what do you think I'm doing on here? You sounded like you were getting mad."

Yes, relax, Gabriella. Deep breath.

I didn't think he was doing anything bad, to be honest. I'm not mad he's on his phone. I'm mad he wasn't listening to me. And I just wanted a simple answer to a simple question. I mean, this paper he's supposed to do is due on Monday and all he has is the introduction. I'm supposed to do a research report so thought we could crank these two things out together right now before the weekend. He has all his information, he just needs to put it into paragraphs.

"I'm not mad," I tell him, "I just don't understand why you're not doing your homework. You wanna wait til the last minute?"

"It's not a big deal. I'm tired," he says, "practice was tiring today."

"I get that, but..."

He puts his phone down, "no, you don't get it. You don't play a sport, so don't give me that BS."

Okay. Um. I'm a little taken aback. His tone was jut a little aggressive. And he's never aggressive. Ever. So this is kind of weird for me.

"Fine, whatever, don't do your paper."

"Hey..."

"I'm not really in the mood, Chris," I shake my head, "why don't you just go?"

He sits back in the chair, looking almost amused. "You want me to go? Because I don't want to do my paper?"

Not the only reason.

"I'm just sick of fighting. I'm sick of arguing. I'm sick of feeling like I don't even have a boyfriend anymore and I get you're here, I get we're hanging out and all of that, fine, okay, but come on, it's like how it used to be and I can't for the life of me bring myself to try anymore than I'm already trying and..."

"Hey," his voice is calm, cool and collected, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such an ass sometimes."

I'd say.

He scoots his chair closer to me, "babe, I'm sorry."

And just like that, I let my shoulders fall and succumb to the Chris charm because it's easier to. "Do you maybe just want to go to dinner?"

He smiles and plants a kiss on me, "yes, and then we can finish this."

I laugh, "promise?"

"I promise," he tells me, taking my hand, "I don't mean to be such an ass, you know that, right? And it's not an excuse, it's not. I don't know what's going on with us lately, but I wish it wasn't. I love you, I don't want to keep fighting. I don't."

"I don't either," I breathe out, "at all. "

Chris grabs my hand, giving me a smile before he leans down and gives me a kiss. "Let's just have a good night."

Please.

It's all I want right now.