I sat, stunned, on my bed. I urged myself not to cry. I thought of how I could fix what I'd done; obviously, I couldn't call Dr. Marin – my relationship with her is what had screwed everything up in the first place. No, I thought, it wasn't the relationship with her; it was that I had kept it from Troy. I didn't want to admit that he was right; that I find trusting people hard. But in all honesty, I rationalised to myself, how am I supposed to trust anyone when the person I trusted most of all lied to me and then took her own life? Sighing, I trudged to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was Sunday. I could wallow and have a pity party, and then try and figure out what to do. Then Monday was the last week of school, and Friday was our winter dance. I smiled slightly, thinking of Troy's blushing face when he asked me to be his date, and my equally blushing face when I said yes. What now? Would we go together? Would I even go?

I checked my phone, hoping that Troy had texted me, but no; it was just Taylor asking if I would shop with her tomorrow. I told her I had a lot of work to catch up on, when in reality, I just wanted to be on my own. And with that, I fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of falling through dark skies, and no one to catch me as I neared the ground; just me, all alone.

Sunday came and went; no messages from Troy, no messages from anyone, really. But after my little misery fest throughout the day, I came to the conclusion that I did need to talk to Troy; and I mean really talk to him. He was right, and he needed to know that.

The next morning, I woke up determined. I showered quickly, and dressed in dress I knew Troy liked, because the red set off my skin tone and the belt at the waist accented my butt – dressing to please couldn't hurt right? I was on my way to school in no time, and I knew that Troy usually got in early Monday mornings to help his dad set up the gym for the rest of the week. When I got to school and saw his shiny truck in the car park, I gave myself a pat on the back for knowing he'd be here, and quickly hopped out of my own car to find him. But he was nowhere to be found. Not in the gym; not in his dad's office; not in homeroom; not at his locker, and not even on the rooftop. I was starting to worry as I walked down the empty hallways when I saw him, leaning against my locker casually. Good sign or bad?

I approached him timidly. "Hi." I said, avoiding eye contact and pretending that the brown of my boots was suddenly the most interesting thing in the planet. I didn't want to meet his eyes, for fear that I'd see he was still angry.

"Hey," he replied, and I forced myself to look up. God, he was so handsome. His form fitting black sweater and jeans combo was making me notice all parts of his toned body, and the light stubble accenting his jawline were making me weak in the knees. But those eyes. They were reserved, as if he didn't want to let me in. My shoulders sagged in defeat, as I prayed he didn't come here to break up with me. I prayed more than I'd ever prayed in my life.

"Gabriella…"

"Troy…"

We'd both started our sentences at the same time, and both stopped, waiting for the other to keep talking. We awkwardly laughed, and Troy stuck his hands as deep into his pockets as they'd go. I fiddled with my hair, and then cleared my throat. I spoke first.

"I came early hoping to find you actually," I tossed him a weak smile. "I think we need to talk, because I have a lot to say, and I want you to hear it before you decide whether you're breaking up with me." My voice broke on that last part, and a pathetic shudder ran through me at the thought of going back to my old life, the one without Troy in it.

To my surprise though, Troy pulled me to him, hugging me close to his chest. He didn't say anything, just held me. I savoured the feel of those strong arms around me, hoping that this wasn't just a goodbye hug.

"We have homeroom now." He said quietly, looking around as the hallways began to fill up, as everyone around us went about their normal lives, no matter what was happening in my and Troy's lives.

"Can we talk though, today?" I repeated myself, hoping to get an answer from him. To my relief, he nodded.

"Rooftop at lunch?" he said, and I agreed, hoping that the morning would go quickly. The faster, the better. But, of course, it didn't. It was the slowest morning; I felt as if time was moving backwards instead of forwards, and I knew it was because I was anticipating what was to come. But even as I hoped lunch would come, my anxiety grew. A ball of pure fear nestled itself deep inside me, and after the bell rang, with each step towards the rooftop, I felt that ball grow and tighten. Oh god, I wanted to throw up. What if Troy changed his mind? What if he didn't even show?

But no, he was there, leaning against the bench, waiting for me. I took a deep breath. This was it.

"Sorry I'm late," I apologised, even though I wasn't late, he'd just been early. I just needed to apologise to him, in any way I could. Even if it wasn't the way I was meant to.

"You wanted to talk." He said, looking me straight in the eye. I saw no cruelty there, no hatred; I just saw resolve, a fixed determination to get me to say what I wanted to say. Clearly, there would be no beating around the bush tonight.

"Sit," I told him, unable to take his rigid stance, and he did, albeit kind of reluctantly. "Okay, I just need to get this all out." I said, more to myself than to him. Turning, I faced him straight on, so I could gauge any emotion he might show as I spoke.

"I made a mistake." I started softly. "You were right. I didn't let you in on a huge part of myself. And partially, I'll admit, it was out of shame and fear. Shame, because I find myself to be as weak as my mother when I think of the fact that I need medication like she did. Fear, at how you'd react. I'm not saying it's because of you specifically, but for any teenage boy —hell, for anyone— this is a lot to take in. So I kept it from you. I rationalised with myself that I was allowed to keep secrets from you. That I'm allowed to keep some parts of my life private, keep to myself things that only I would know. And maybe, for some things, that could be true. But this wasn't one of them. You deserve to know that you were right in what you said two nights ago. I shouldn't have kept it from you and there isn't really an excuse I could give you that even I would buy at this point. You were mostly right when you told me I don't trust you." I swallowed, looking up and glimpsing a sliver of hurt at that last statement in Troy's eyes, his expression entirely guarded. I willed myself not to cry, to finish what I'd wanted to say.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do, just not completely. I don't trust anyone, not even myself. I have issues with trust… knowing that I trusted my mother was fine that day… it screwed me up. And everything stems from that inability to fully and unequivocally trust even the most incredible people, people like you. With that being said, I look back on these three months and I think of everything I've told you; of every moment I shared with you, and I think that there is no one else I know who I trust like you. Maybe it's not complete trust yet, but I have a feeling it will be, that it could be if I let it." I took a deep breath, releasing some of the pent up worry as I watched Troy absorb my words, then carried on.

"As for Dr. Marin, I sat down for a while thinking about how you must have felt knowing we knew each other. Disbelief, embarrassment, anger. I wish I could take those feelings away, I really do, Troy. Because the thing is, she has helped me so much. We don't talk about you that much, like I said a couple of nights ago, it's usually passing comments. At the start, before I knew she knew you, I talked a lot about what I thought of us, what I thought we might be, how I felt about you. Not so much because Dr. Marin is a psychiatrist, but almost because talking to her was like talking to a mom. And I'm begging you to understand that. I swear, we never meant to embarrass you. I love you, Troy. You have to know that. You're the first person I think of when I wake up, the last person I think about before I fall asleep. Sometimes, I think I might need you more than I need air and water. I just, I love you, and you were right before, everything you said. I just needed you to know that, no matter what you decide to do about us." I finished, turning away from him, not wanting him to see me tear up.

"Look at me, Brie." Troy finally spoke after what felt like eons. I didn't turn, trying to remove the tear tracks that were running down my face. "Look at me." He commanded, his voice gruff. I turned slowly, weary. A large hand came to my face, wiping away a stray tear.

"I hate seeing you cry. Please, don't cry," he begged. I just looked at him. "Thank you," he said. "I needed to hear that; needed to hear that I wasn't totally out of line before. I've been beating myself all weekend for yelling at you the way I did, and walking out like that."

"I deserved it," I said in a small voice. He shook his head adamantly.

"No, you didn't. I mean yeah, I meant what I said about the trust stuff, but I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have let my temper and my embarrassment get the best of me." His ears were tinged pink, as if embarrassed to admit that. I sat up a little, more hopeful now that Troy seemed to be talking.

"It hurts to know that you didn't feel like you could come to me about any of that stuff you're dealing with. That you think I might run off. There's nothing to be ashamed of, and it fucking rips me apart that you were too ashamed and scared to say anything about the depression and anxiety. Because what it comes down to, Brie, is that I love you. And I hate fighting with you. And I don't want to break up. I want us to work through this; I want us to get to a point where you completely trust me. And I'm willing to work for the rest of my life to prove to you I'm worthy of that trust. All you need to do, baby, is let me in. Just let me in, and everything else will work itself out." And just like that, he pulled me into his arms, cradling me close to him and kissing my forehead. I relished the feel of his lips on my skin, and thanked every higher power that potentially exists that I had been given a second chance.

"Anything you want to know from now on, I'll tell you." I swore, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes. He smiled softly, bumping his forehead against mine. We spent the rest of the afternoon ditching class and making up, talking like we'd never talked before. I felt like we'd broken down this invisible barrier, one that I was hiding behind because I was too afraid to show Troy every part of me. The parts I thought he might not like, or the parts he might not want to deal with. Everything was out in the open, and I felt like we had just crossed some huge hurdle in our relationship. And as the day came to an end, and we walked to the car park, laughing at the possibility our parents would find out we ditched school, I found myself smiling. Sure, the day started shitty, but it was great now. Troy and I were great now. And I couldn't have been happier.