No more Phil? No more Phil? NO MORE PHIL? Ain't gonna happen. It can't happen. I ran up to my room and got on IM hoping it would help me forget what my mother just threatened. Phil was on. Good.

Me: Hey, Phil. Tonight was great. Thanx.

Phil: I had a great time, too. I want thinking we could do it again sometime.

He wants to go out with me again! Yay!

Me: Yeah, totally.

Then I remembered what my mom said.

Me: But it'll have to be in the afternoon.

Phil?

Me: If I'm late for my cerfew one more time, my mom says I can't hang out with you anymore. I'm not taking any chances.

None. None at all.

Phil: You want to be with me that much?

Duhh!

Me: Duhh! You are my boyfriend afterall.

Wait! I just called Phil my boyfriend! We never acually stated being boyfriend/girlfriend

Me: Uhh, I mean. My friend...That's a boy. You know...A friendboy.

Phil: Yeah. A friendboy

Phil: Keel, I've been wondering if I could be you boyfriend, not your friendboy.

YESSSS! YES! YES! YES!

Me: On one condition...

Phil: What's that?

Me: You can be my boyfriend if I can be your girlfriend.

Phil: Of coarse! So, Saturday 12:00? We can have lunch instead of dinner.

Me: Sure.

I have the best boyfriend ever!

Another Monday. Another week of torture. School. Ugh. We get our tests back in English today. I think I did really well. Maybe a B. I nervously walked into English class and saw my test on my desk. I can't believe it. I got an F! How? Why? My mom is gonna so kill me. Could things get any worse. After class I walked over to Phil's locker. He was there. "Hey, Phil. What's up?" He looks nervous. "Are you okay. You look a little...umm...anxious."

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. Umm, I can't go out with you on Saturday." My heart got heavy.

"Oh. Alright. We can go out another time then." He looked at feet. Something is wrong.

"Uhh. I can't go out with you again ever." Is he breaking up with me? "I hope we can still be friends, though." He is breaking up with me. My heart fell.

"Y-Yeah. Of coarse. I-I gotta go." I ran to the bathroom with tears down my cheeks. I can't believe how awful today is. Why did Phil dump me? You don't just dump someone without a reason. Why did he do this? I guess there's only one thing left to do then. This reporter's going undercover.

BBBRRRIIINNNGGG! The end of school bell rang. I rushed out of the room and ran to the door, jumping in the bushes to wait for Phil. He soon came out and I waited till he was half a block down to start following him. Dodging behind trees, he I stalked him all the way to the park. There on the bench that Phil sat down on was a girl that I recognized as the transfer from Handsometown High. What is he doing talking to her? I watched them for what seemed like forever, but was only five minutes. Phil looked really nervous. The same look he got when I woke up from my coma. Before he kissed me. He leaned in. No! No, no, no, no, no. NO! I ran away from them before their lips touched. I couldn't take it. Phil dumped me for that little sleeze bag! Why? Why would he do this to me? He told me he loved me. And I believed him. I feel tears start to stream down my cheeks. I thought Phil was different. But he's not. He's just like every other guy on this stupid Earth. I reached my house and ran to my bathroom. I did the one thing I had sworn to never do again.

It's now Friday. Therapy day. I silently walked into the room looking down at my feet. "Hello, Keely. How was your week?" asks Diana, my therapists. I can't tell her what I did. So I lie.

"Fine, thanks." I sit down on the sofa and keep staring at my feet.

"Keely, you can lay down you know. That's why we have a sofa, not a chair." She tells me this every week.

"I'm fine sitting." I can feel Diana staring at me. She knows something's wrong. And she knows what I did wrong. I feel trapped. I have to tell her, otherwise she won't stop staring. "Diana..." I can't tell her.

"Yes, Keely?" I don't want to tell her.

"Nothing." I look at the wallpaper behind her. Counting the number of stipres. One, two, three, four... What ugly wallpaper. I look out the window beside her. Memorize the color of the cars. Blue, red, green, silver, red, orange, silver, silver, bue, purple, white, black, black.

"So, what'd you do this week." I've done to many things this week to list.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" That's what I said didn't I?

"Nothing." We go threw an hour of her asking me questions and me giving short, non-detailed answers. Finally, it's over. I feel bricks on my shoulders. The only way to get them off is to tell Diana. I don't want to. But I have to.

"I forced myself to throw up on Monday." I say quickly before I can change my mind. The bricks are still there. I cry.