Losing My Mind

It hadn't taken much effort to convince Chase I was fine. Truthfully I was, after a few days. I explained to him that I was frustrated with myself for not having communicated better with him, and my emotions were exaggerated because it was "that time of the month." He didn't seem overeager to press after that. Nonetheless, to spare ourselves future similar confusion, we made a new arrangement- busy or not, to maintain a healthy and stress-free relationship we had to have "together time" at least once a week.

The tension I had pertained with Lola was completely imaginary. Upon returning to the dorm that night she apologized profusely, insisting she had not known I intended on going to the play with Chase. Apparently he had approached Lola that morning and said he had an extra ticket for a play, and having loved the previous production, she eagerly accepted his invitation to go along. I could tell she was genuinely sorry, so I found no reason to be mad at her. Or anyone. Everything was fine.

It was the beginning of February, and to the shock of every weatherman south of Oregon, quite cold out, but that didn't stop us from an early morning game of touch football. The game originally started out as girls (Lola, Quinn, and I) versus boys (Chase, Logan, and Michael), but that division was quickly rejected when we discovered that Michael had no throwing ability whatsoever, and Quinn had no athletic ability whatsoever. Eventually the teams consisted of Chase, Lola, and I versus Michael, Logan, and Quinn… well, mostly Michael and Logan.

Lola and I were already well aware of the rules, so we had plenty of time to talk strategy with Chase while Logan and Michael were still explaining the game to Quinn. We kept the guidelines simple: 1) stay within the boundaries, 2) physical violence gets penalized and 3) as long as the ball does not touch the ground and a scoring player is in possession of the ball in the touchdown zone, anything goes.

This immediately caused problems when Logan was called off-sides on the first play. He refuted, saying that there were no rules regarding off-sides. After much unnecessary argument a new rule was added- the opposite team could not move until the football reached the Center.

"Down… set… hike!"

I snatched the ball from Chase's hands, raising it over my shoulder even before I had clear sight of my receivers. Lola was being blocked by Michael, who had a three-inch height advantage over her. Chase, who had darted forward and hooked off to the left, was wide open, soon to be blocked by a rushing Logan. I considered running, but spotted a flash of brown out of the corner of my eye and hopped forward, missing Quinn's touch by inches. I raced ahead and threw the football to Chase.

My throw fell short, and Chase had to stop sprinting to catch the football. Logan nearly ran into him, clambering for the ball. Both boys clawed an end, and began struggling for possession. The intense game of tug-of-war ended when Lola ran up behind Logan and poked the side of his ribs. He leapt a mile high, letting go of the football and giving Chase the out he needed to flee down the field. He was within five yards of the scoring zone when a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. Followed by a taunting "ha!" Chase bent over, pressing his palms to his knees while pausing to catch his breath. "Don't 'ha' me, Michael. We have first down."

"Yeah, well, you have yet to see my impressive blocking skills, my friend."

"If they're anything like your throwing skills, I doubt you guys will be scoring much."

As it turned out, Michael was not only great at blocking, but also intercepting. On our second down Lola threw the ball too hard. It sailed directly over my head and into Michael's outstretched hands. He faked running left, and then reversed so quickly I spun around and tripped over my own feet. He honked with laughter as he bolted down the field, Logan blocking at his side. Lola could not get a hand around him, and they scored a touchdown.

Both teams took turns dominating the lead after that, until it was 21-28. I had control of the ball again. Quinn and Logan had both gone to block Chase, apparently noting that Lola hadn't caught any of her passes. With Michael making a beeline toward me, I took the chance and threw directly to her. She held her arms out in cradle form, like she was carrying a load of books, and as the football landed in her arms she hugged it to her chest. Giddy, she more skipped than ran down the field. Logan poked her in the ribs several yards short of the scoring zone. "Revenge," he mocked smugly. She responded by sticking her tongue out.

Chase called us over for a huddle, where he wrapped his arm around our shoulders and bent low. "Okay. I have a plan. It's tricky, but I think it'll work. Zoey, you think you can fake a throw to me then pass to Lola?"

I smiled. "You got it, Coach," and couldn't help admire how adorable he looked

He grinned, seeming to know what I was thinking. "Lola, I want you to get ready." But instead of elaborating, he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Lola broke out in a smile, while her already rosy cheeks took on another shade of red. "Okay," was her simple response.

"Alright, girls, let's do this." He reached his arm between us, where we both placed a hand on top of his. "One, two, three - BREAK!"

By the time we were positioned, Quinn was halfway through her "Hey, batter, batter!" chant, which Logan snickered at. Chase crouched in front of me, looking back to send me a quick wink. I beamed, and felt my heart race once again as I slipped the football from his hands. I took several steps back, and turned my body to the left, opposite where Lola was positioned. Chase was still in the middle of the field, not cutting across this time.

I faked a throw, and watched Logan and Michael freeze in place, confused and looking wildly to see where I had aimed. Their split second hesitation was all Lola needed to break away and open herself up for a catch. I aimed true and released the football, watching its spiral path trace an invisible line against the cloud-covered sky.

This throw was slightly higher than my last. It hit Lola square in the chest, where she clamped her arms down to keep it from falling. She appeared winded, and made no attempt to run. I was sure she had faltered, and prepared to dart forward and try blocking for her. No sooner had I taken a fleeting step when Chase appeared. He ran toward his teammate, and for a horrible second I thought he was going to head-butt Lola from behind.

Instead, upon approaching her he reached out to grasp her hips and slid his head and shoulders between her knees. Lola leaned forward to keep him balanced as he stood, and two seconds later she was sitting on top his shoulders. "CHARGE!" she ordered triumphantly, and Chase obliged. Quinn, on the opposite side of the field, simply laughed and watched them go. Michael and Logan both ran after Chase, although involuntary laughter made Michael slow. Chase remained a few inches ahead of Logan, enough so Logan couldn't reach up and touch Lola. We scored.

"Whoo-hoo!" My cheers were the loudest of them all. Logan immediately began to throw a tantrum, but Quinn was able to cool him off with reassuring kisses. Michael nodded approvingly, motioning to me. "Okay, Brooks, I see how it is. Just so you know, the kid gloves are officially coming off," he informed as he swayed his torso and did a step with his feet, a move which we called his "hoo-ah" dance.

"Bring it on, Barrett." (For some reason, competitiveness had us addressing each other by our last names.)

Meanwhile Chase was spinning Lola around on his shoulders. Her arms were raised high in the air and she was chanting "Who rocks socks? We rock socks!" over and over. When Chase stopped twirling, admitting he had grown dizzy, she slid off his back and pretended to wobble as well. Together they fell over, ungracefully and with overlapping "oofs". They appeared lost in a fit of giggles, mouths open and looking like guppies gulping for air. Lola turned over on her side, gazing at her partner in a way that could only be described as blissful.

"Tu es un excellent athlète, Monsieur," she complimented through a bright smile.

"Oui, Mademoiselle. J'ais un grand amour pour mes ventilateurs." And as smooth as the French words rolled of his tongue, Chase reached out and took Lola's hand, placing it briefly to his lips.

My heart skipped a beat as a rush of bewilderment zipped through my bloodstream. I visibly shook as nerves vibrated under my skin, and the growing constriction of oxygen around me made it difficult to breathe. I hastily blinked away the arising nausea, watching the coup- pair rise to their feet. I didn't move when Chase approached, his eyes dancing with happiness. "Zoey, you were terrific!" and he planted a kiss on my cheek. His breath was so warm it sent shivers down my spine and into my toes, while his embrace engulfed me with vibrant heat. I made an effort to smile when I returned his hug, squeezing him slightly tighter than I normally would.

"Yeah, you were great too."

Just as he released me, the school bell rang. Classes were starting. Michael and Logan released a chorus of groans, both frustrated at having to end the game with a tied score. The promise of a rematch remained on everyone's lips as we said our goodbyes and headed for our classrooms. Coincidently, Lola, Chase, and I all had English for first period. While walking to class Chase and Lola joked about starting an NFL team, and went so far as to start picking a team name.

"How about the Pacific Coast Koalas?" Chase offered spontaneously.

"But there aren't any Koalas in California…"

"At the zoo there are."

Lola shook her head. "The… Pacific Coast Porpoises?"

Chase rebutted, "There aren't any porpoises in California either! Besides, who would be afraid of one of those?"

"Who's afraid of Koalas?"

"I happen to find Koalas very terrifying," Chase replied in a too-serious tone. Lola sighed in amusement, wrapping her hair behind her ear.

As they continued to bounce team names off one another I could only listen with half-interest. This cold weather had me feeling very dreary. I silently prayed for a sun, or some form of light to come from the heavens… even a flying saucer beam would have been nice at this point. But no such luck: the clouds were lifeless and the world was colorless. I considered wishing for snow, which would have at least proved an alternative to the current bland weather, and decided to do just that. Clouds, clouds, go away; gather some snow to brighten the day…

"Earth to Zoey!" I heard distant, and then not so distant, snapping. I was startled to see a large hand waving in front of my face. Jerking back, I found the hand was actually of normal size. "Zoey?"

"Yeah," I turned to see two expecting faces. "I'm sorry, I must have gotten side-tracked. What were you saying?"

"I asked if you would mind."

Would I mind; those words came from her mouth again. Immediately I felt my insides turn sour, and my face melted into a frown. The phrase repeated itself over and over, like a witch chanting a curse. "Mind what," I questioned quietly, slightly frightened.

Chase replied slowly, "Would you mind if we called ourselves the Almighty Monkeys?"

I released a breath, with it letting go the sudden tension that had arisen. "Oh. Sure, why not? Monkeys are definitely scary. Make them almighty and… whew, we'll take over the planet."

Mind Your Language

While the sky was still as dismal as ever, inside the lounge the lighting was bright and the air was warm. Students were buzzing around, too many to fit to the one pool table, so most were standing and trying to talk over the next group of teenagers. Chase and I arrived early and were able to get the couch to ourselves. I was leaned against him, reading through some papers as he scribbled down ideas for an essay draft. For the first time in what seemed like hours, I looked up from my History notes and caught sight of a group of foreign exchange students passing. They were chatting eagerly in a language I didn't recognize.

That reminded me... "Since when do you speak French?"

Ever since the morning of the football game I had been reminding myself to ask Chase where he learned to speak another language. He had a hard enough time with the English language; so much that I though he'd be discouraged from pursuing a second tongue.

"Oh, I learned it in England. I'm not fluent yet, but I bought some tapes and I'm working on mastering the art that is the French language." He exaggerated the last of his sentence with a terrible accent.

I watched him flip through our History textbook, seemingly determined to find one specific page. "You never told me that."

"You never asked," Chase responded harmlessly.

"So, where did Lola learn French?"

He answered in the same calm voice, meanwhile skimming a paragraph with his finger, "I've been teaching her. She's a fast learner- she's already pretty conversational. But then again, I'm a great teacher," he couldn't resist adding that immodest remark.

Again I was surprised. Lola hadn't mentioned learning French, nonetheless from Chase. Apparently it had been going on for some time…

I quickly put the thought out of my mind. I didn't want to dawdle on what else I didn't know about.

"Would you like me teach you some French words?" I blinked and looked up at Chase. He was smiling with such apparent hope that I didn't have the heart to tell him I needed to study for that afternoon's History test. Oh well, I was always pretty good at History anyway…

"Sure." It had been so long since I'd seen him this excited.

We wasted away the morning and early-afternoon practicing French greetings, responses and food names. I couldn't roll my tongue around "potato", which brought Chase to seize my mouth and mush it together. "Pomme de terre…" he spoke as he played puppeteer with my lips. It took many moments before I could finally say it, since it was difficult to form words around laughter.

"How do you say 'I love you'?" I inquired seductively.

If possible, that heart-stopping smile grew even wider. "Je t'aime."

Running my hands down Chase's cheek, I leaned forward to place all my strength into his kiss, using my mouth to memorize every crease and curve of his lips. After a moment I released him, locking his gaze and whispering, "Je t'aime, Chase."

I watched his mouth part to form words, but all I heard next was a loud, never-ending bell. It rang loud across the lounge, signaling the start of all afternoon classes. Scoffing and forming an apologetic smile, I removed myself from Chase's grasp. "Sorry, I've got to get to class." I attempted to fit all my textbooks into my bag (honestly, were my books getting bigger?!), tapping my foot with growing frustration. Eventually the bag gave in, and I was able to slip my notebook inside. "I'll see you on Saturday, right?"

He nodded. "The movie starts at seven. Can I pick you up at a quarter till?"

"Sure."

"Oh, and Zo?" Chase rose from the couch, and allowed me a second to admire his height. He had grown slightly taller this year. "I told Lola she could double-date with us, her and Carl; do you mind?"

"No, that's sounds great," I replied whole-heartedly. "Who's Carl?"

"He and Lola have study hall together. He asked her out last night. She seemed a bit doubtful about going out with him, so I offered to let her double with us. If he turns out to be a dud we can always bail her out."

"Well, aren't you thoughtful? You make a great wingman."

Again before he could reply, the bell rang. I was officially late. Offering a quick "gotta go", I darted into the hallway, passed the whispering foreign exchange students, and into the chilly February air.

Mind Over Matter

You would never have guessed it had been even slightly cold five weeks earlier. On the first day of March the sun was scorching, and kids foolish enough to walk outside barefoot burned their feet on the concrete sidewalks. As it was, I had remembered my shoes, but forgotten that black didn't breathe well in heat. As cute as my blouse looked, I felt as though it had slowly suffocated me all day, which explained why I was thankful when my session with Mrs. Raeburn ended early.

Mrs. Raeburn was my career counselor, and I swear an angel from heaven. I had been going to see her for months, inquiring mostly about colleges, courses, opportunities and requirements. Today she revealed to me she had information on the Chicago college IADT (the International Academy of Design and Technology) and proudly informed me that, while the process would be quite competitive, she could see me being accepted. "Of course, you'd have to work very hard- this is an exceptional school, and you will have to show them you mean business."

I assured her I was more than happy to do just that. She informed me that a perfect grade point average, while important, would not suffice on its own. Mrs. Raeburn went on to explain that my work as a lifeguard and candy striper would indeed look impressive to the school, but "you must now integrate design into your work life. This way you will have an extra edge over many of the other applicants."

That was when she recommended the summer internship.

The Academy of Arts, a related branch of IADT, had internships available for students to attend from mid-June to early August. I was in a tizzy looking over the brochure for the millionth time. Needless to say what I read was overwhelming- the entire set-up was so professional, and from the provided descriptions I'd be "sampling a taste from the world of fashion design" before heading off to college. It all seemed too good to be true.

I couldn't wait to tell Chase about it.

It was almost eight o'clock and he hadn't returned to his dorm room. I began to dial his cell when the door finally opened, and in popped my bushy-haired boyfriend. "Hey! Where've you been?"

He jumped, apparently not having expected to find me in his bedroom. "Sushi Rox. We all got together for dinner. I didn't know you were free. You could've joined us."

Barely hearing what he said, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the chair beside me. "Guess what? Mrs. Raeburn got information about IADT! I told you I was looking into that, right? Anyway, so she told me that besides keeping my grades up and volunteering, I should also look into this summer internship. And look at it!" I shoved the pamphlet into Chase's hands. "Isn't it amazing? I'd get to assist true designers, and learn how a fashion design comes to life on the runway. Could you imagine?!" I stopped to take a breath, but didn't allow Chase to interrupt. I continued on for several minutes, highlighting all my favorite details about the summer internship.

"Some of my favorite designers went to IADT," I explained hurriedly. "It's a well respected school everywhere. If I graduated with honors, I'd be able to work abroad- maybe in Paris or Milan." I felt so lightheaded and scatterbrained. Of course I had always dreamed about becoming a designer, but for the first time it seemed a reality, something I could truly aspire to, and I couldn't shake the excitement bursting within my bones.

Chase's gaze was trained on the cover of the brochure, only responding with a simple "wow" when I finished rambling. "So… it's in Chicago?"

"Yeah, which is great because the top five interns," I pointed at the sixth page in the brochure, which showed a picture of five attractive, smiling teenagers, "get to fly to New York on July 29th to see a modeling show." My heart felt like it was on fire, fueled by adrenaline and imagination.

"That's… wow." The smile he gave me was genuine. The look in his eyes was not.

"Yeah, it's really wow… And I'm going to start working at the soup kitchen downtown. Mrs. Raeburn said that any kind of volunteering looks good to colleges. So you and I are going to have to rearrange our date this week. I'd like to volunteer on Thursday afternoons if possible, from about five to seven or so. I need to call the kitchen tomorrow to find out when they need help… and I'll have to see about getting a ride… On second thought, it would be easier to just take the bus." I jotted down on my notebook check out bus schedule.

When I looked up I caught Chase staring at me. He seemed anxious, expecting, but I didn't know what else he could want me to say- hadn't I rambled on enough? He remained quiet for another moment before shifting in his chair. "It sounds like you've got quite a plan here."

It was now very clear he was off. He was fidgeting and unusually unresponsive. But before I could ask what was wrong, he spoke up, "If you'll excuse me Zoey, I have some work to get done… Michael and I are working on a new script for the Chase & Michael show, and I'd like to finish it by the weekend."

I hesitated, not making an effort to stand. He noticed, and gave me a small smile. "Call me when you have a day free, okay? We can go out for pizza." Helping me to my feet, he pressed his lips to my cheekbone and whispered a farewell.

As I closed the door behind me, I heard the faint sound of clicking within the bedroom. Dawdling, I pressed my ear to the door to listen. I heard Chase talking, and realized he had made a phone call. "Hey Lola. Are you busy?... Would you mind meeting me in the library around eight?... Yeah, I kinda need someone's ear right now… You sure?... Okay, I'll see you then."

Mind Your Own Business

I felt as though I had been swimming upstream for weeks, feeling so mentally and physically exhausted. While my schoolwork had briefly lightened up, I'd become "slightly obsessed" (Quinn's words) with researching the summer internship. I was able to arrange a meeting with the internship's administrator to take place over spring break. She said she would be able to give me a better idea of what to expect, as well as a tour of the facility and schedule of events. Too eager to wait, I emailed my parents and informed them of my summer intentions. They replied the next day as ecstatic about the program as I was, although requested to be kept up-to-date regarding school-related plans.

Regrettably, Chase and I were unable to keep to our weekly-date arrangement, and lately were only able to catch each other during classes. He seemed distant, although not avoiding or even angry. He was just never up for talking and always had something to do. At first I wondered if this was some sort of revenge; a tit-for-tat for my having broken so many dates. But I pushed the thought aside- that sounded more behavioral of Logan than Chase.

Chase was not the only one acting differently, however. Over the past several days I had spotted Lola and Quinn huddled together, whispering loudly. Lola seemed evading, while Quinn looked perturbed and upset. Whenever I approached them though, they dropped their argument, greeting me and starting up a conversation about movies or clothes. It was getting frustrating to say the least. After all these girls were my roommates; why should they be hiding something from me? Did it have to do with Chase's recent mood?

Breifly I wondered if it had to do with Carl, whom Lola had been seeing on and off for the past month. She never seemed particularly anxious about going out with him, despite Quinn's attempts to keep them together. I had assumed Quinn was playing matchmaker because she suspected Lola of still carrying a torch for Vince, who hadn't stayed on the market very long after their break up. But upon discussing Carl with Quinn, she didn't get over-excited or even seem to care about Lola's disinterest in him, so I figured that wasn't what they were arguing over.

Then the next night, returning to my room after study hall, I caught them again. This time Lola was the one who looked upset. Quinn appeared stunned. Just as before, they spotted me and seemed to forget what they were talking about: Quinn resumed a one-player game of chess while Lola began painting her fingernails. Their greetings sounded far away. Secretive. And that was it; I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, that's enough. What is it you guys aren't telling me?!" I glued my hands to my hips, planting both feet firmly to the ground.

Minutes followed of rushed denial, counter-arguments, threats and eventually surrender. Quinn had been ready to continue insisting she knew nothing. It was Lola who didn't have the heart to fight. "Zoey… we weren't trying to keep this from you. It isn't even any of our business."

"What isn't your business?"

Quinn offered nothing, her mouth left half-open as though she was completely clueless. Lola spoke quickly, "It's Chase. He's been having a bit of a rough time recently. He's been confiding in me… and Michael… about it. And then I told Quinn."

I took two steps forward, coming to sit on my bed. "Okay…" I responded impatiently. "What's bothering him?"

Quinn looked to Lola, who kept her eyes trained on me. "It's not our place to say. You should really talk to Chase."

I took a deep breath, understanding her caution but still curious. "Does it have to do with me?"

This time Lola didn't answer, which I took to mean yes. Sighing, I dropped my backpack to the floor. "Do you know where he is now?" Better now than later. Goodness Chase, if you were upset why couldn't you just say something?

"Logan told me he's been studying up on the boys' roof for the last couple nights," Quinn offered helpfully.

Without a goodbye, because frankly I was still upset they withheld this from me, I stalked out the room and across the campus. Mentally I was trying to think up a way to get passed the Boys' DA, who never let girls in after eight. Growling when nothing came to mind, I decided to take the chance that he would be sympathetic.

Yet for the first time in ages, prayer wasn't necessary. There, on the fountain in the middle of the square, sat Chase. His feet were placed up on the edge, with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. He didn't see me, or at least acknowledge he did, until I was at his side. Even then he didn't turn until I said hello. When he finally did face me, I realized the short smile and calm eyes he gave me, the same features he'd bore for many weeks, were not the same as before. To think that any psychological discomfort could have such a physical affect on him made me shudder.

I sat on the edge of the fountain by his feet, taking a moment to prepare my thoughts. Unfortunately "what are you doing out here" was all my tired brain could come up with.

The blue of the water swam in his eyes, a neon reflection within a sea of black. "I like to think out here. It's normally pretty quiet… except of course when Stacey walks by singing 'Genie in a Bottle'." He made a coughing noise, which I think had been an attempt at laughing.

Afraid of an uncomfortable silence recurring, I decided to take the plunge. "I get this feeling like… like you're upset about something. About me. And I want to know why, or what it is I did." Deciding to elaborate, I added, "If this is about my being busy, really I am sorry. I don't mean to keep skipping out on our dates but-"

"This isn't about that." He responded wearily, his careworn words crawling up my skin.

"Then what is this about?"

Normally, when we were in a disagreement, Chase could never seem to find the right words to say what he meant. But tonight, he had no trouble at all. "This is about the fact that even when you're not busy, you don't make time for me. I can't invite you to go somewhere without clearing it with you weeks in advance. This is about me telling Michael and Logan I can't go see a basketball game with them because I have a date with you, which I already know you're going to cancel. This is about the fact that you were able to make time to volunteer two hours of your busy week at that soup kitchen while you haven't been able to make time to sit down and have a cup of coffee with me. And in spite of the fact that I barely see you anymore… you don't even ask if I would volunteer with you."

I felt the air die around me. My mouth weighed heavily on my jaw, and I couldn't bring myself to blink or move. His words were so pointed, so harsh. They stabbed deep within my heart, while his pained expression continued to kick me in the gut. My face turned pale as his accusations sunk in, bouncing against my conscience and bruising whatever they struck.

"I hadn't considered… Chase, you never told me you… I didn't get the impression you needed to volunteer too," was the oh-so-stupid reply my brain had compiled.

Those endlessly dark eyes boiled with a blossoming emotion- anger. Chase bit the inside of his lip, shaking his head with directed hopelessness. "You just don't get it, do you? I don't need to volunteer. I don't plan my every waking moment to benefit me in my future. I wanted to volunteer with you because I wanted to be with you, in the present, now. That's it. How can you not see that?"

I felt a familiar numb sensation rise up my in cheeks. A pressure I knew all too well would expose my confusion and vulnerability. "I do see that. I want to be with you too. I just didn't th-"

"No, Zoey." Chase cut me off, dropping his feet over the side of the fountain. "I don't think you see. I don't even think you feel the same way about me."

Once again his blame struck me hard, but this time in a very different way. I don't feel the same way? The suggestion was absolutely ridiculous! "How can you say that? I love you! We went to Maui together! If I didn't care-"

"THEN WHY DID YOU PICK A COLLEGE WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT WHERE I WAS GOING TO GO?!"

My heart sped up too quickly and I had to breathe out of my mouth to regulate the beat. For the nine months we had been together, Chase had never once raised his voice to me. He never had reason to… apparently, until now. His face had gone completely red, and he huffed like he was drowning. His scream continued to echo its way across campus.

I stared speechless, my brain malfunctioning and unable to spit out even a grunt. I leaned back, keeping my gaze on Chase, until I felt words form on my lips. "I've wanted to go to IADT for years. I didn't start looking into it seriously until now, but I always planned on applying if I was able to. What, you thought I chose it to get away from you?" Anger resurfacing, I decided I was tired of playing on the defense. "And who are you to get upset over what school I want to go to? You haven't even looked into any colleges yet!"

He didn't even have to speak. His glare alone told me I was incorrect. "And you see, you're wrong. But you wouldn't know what school I was looking into, because you aren't around enough for me to discuss it with you. Well Zoey, let's talk about it now.

"Matt Larson and I have gotten really close over the past year. He says I remind him of himself when he was starting out. He told me that there is a summer program available for a select group of young talents, including writers, and he said he might be able to pull some strings to get Lola and me in. Oh yeah, he absolutely loves Lola, because she's the one who goes to plays with me. And she's crazy about that theatre, which is why I bought an extra ticket for her for tomorrow's production; so that she could go with you and me. I guess you've been too busy to talk to her as well, because she's also been thinking about joining the summer program." Chase's voice sounded so different when he was bitter- it was as though his words were being dubbed, and there was someone hidden in the bushes doing the actually talking. This wasn't Chase. This wasn't my boyfriend.

"And if it happens to work out," he continued, engrossed in his rant, "Matt has a contact at the University of Theatrical Arts in London. I visited that place last year. It's unbelievable, and has a curriculum designed for script writers and aspiring performers. And with Matt as a reference, I'm pretty much a sure-fire to get in. He said he could even help my girlfriend get in if she wanted. You see that's what he calls Lola, because he's never seen my actual girlfriend, the one I'm always yammering about but who can never make time to go see a-"

"STOP IT!" I covered my ears, bringing my elbows together in front of my face. I couldn't stand to hear anymore. I was crying now, sobs which shook my entire body. I coughed and whimpered, running my hands over my face to cover my eyes.

Miraculously, he did stop yelling. But that didn't mean he was finished. I felt Chase's hands fall to my wrists, where he pulled them apart. I was forced to look at him when he spoke deeply, in a calmer voice that better suited him: "You never once asked me where I wanted to go to college. You started planning without talking to me, and I… I don't know what you thought. That I'd make my plans according to yours? But I can't, Zo. I have dreams as big as yours, and I can't follow you to Chicago when you can't make time for me in California. You… you can't fit me into your life now, and you didn't try to fit me into your future. But that's it, isn't it? I'm not a part of your future."

I shook my head rigorously. "No, that's not it. You're laying this all on me too quickly. I've been doing so much and I haven't had time to-"

"To think of me." he finished with sharp coolness. "Through all your planning and preparations, you didn't have time to think of me." Chase released my wrists and took a step back. "Well I've had a lot of time to think, Zoey. I've thought about us going to college in California. I've thought about us growing up together, buying a blue house with black shudders and a swimming pool, getting married, having three kids, you working as a stay-at-home designer taking care of our children while I went to my job at the movie studio from 9-5 every day. And then I would come home and we'd spend the evening together, doing whatever and just wanting to be with each other. No ulterior motives, no planning, no cancelations.

"But you know what I think now?" His face had taken on immovable somberness. "I don't think that what you want. I don't think you can live that kind of life. Because work just comes first with you and… and you need to find someone who also puts their job before their relationships."

I heard my heart split in two when he added quietly, "I'm not that guy."

Just like that. It happened that quickly. And as I stood, eyes bloodshot and tears soaking the collar of my shirt, I realized that nothing I could say or do would change what had just happened. No crying or denying or begging could erase the truth in his words or the verdict he had drawn. I couldn't say anything, and probably didn't have the ability to. Because reality was now speaking to me, and she was being truly unkind.

We had broken up. We were broken up. Chase had broken us up…

No, I heard a whisper within me refute. I broke us up.

For awhile is simply sat, looking down at my reflection in the fountain's still water. I felt as though I was watching someone else's life unfold, someone else's world collapse, but not my own. Please not my own. Please, let this prove to be a horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Zoey." My name already sounded different on his tongue. "Zoey, we have to go. If we're caught outside we'll get detention," but there was absolutely no energy in his voice. I turned to look at him, and suddenly noticed how tired he looked. His hair even more frizzled and his posture poor- he looked older somehow. "If you want, we can talk tomorrow…" he sounded as though he was going to add more, but refrained.

Sniffling, I ran the top of my hand over my eyes and slowly stood. "I… I don't think there's really anything else to say."

This time I heard someone else's heart break.

We simply stared at each other. And the longer I traveled into his gaze the farther away he seemed. We were no longer on the same team, I realized. We were on opposing sides, and could not cross the imaginary line that now separated our bodies. We could not comfort each other like we ached to; we could not because we were the source of each other's pain. We could only stare at one another.

I sniffed again and took a deep breath, breaking eye contact by briefly examining my shoes. When I had the courage to look up, I found the ability to say what I truthfully believed. "You know… we aren't like other couples, Chase. We were friends first. Our entire relationship wasn't built on dating… We could… we could still be friends." Amazingly, it didn't sound as cliché as I thought it would. Not to say it didn't burn a hole my heart.

Chase nodded, and I briefly wondered if he had been thinking the same thing. "Yeah… yeah, I agree… I just think that," he paused to carefully choose his next words, "that you and I need to take a break… from each other. Just for a bit."

"I think that's a good idea… Just for a bit," I repeated gently. My insides still felt so tender, and though I'd never had a broken heart so severe, I suspected a few days alone would give my heart time to start stitching up the wounds.

It was Chase who was able to move first. He stepped over the imaginary line and stopped inches in front of me. I watch him extend his hand, palm open and unthreatening. "Zoey, will you be my friend… please?"

For as long as I'd live, I knew I'd never hear such a sincere tone in someone's voice. I loved that so much about him. And with the fear that I might say so aloud, I merely nodded and took his hand. His touch was as warm as ever, but not passionate or private. It was… friendly.

We dropped our arms to our sides, and I patiently waited for Chase to say goodbye. Because I certainly didn't have the ability to do so without falling apart. The thought of being the first to turn away made my knees shake, and I knew any more pressure would cause my legs to crumble beneath me.

Instead of a simple goodbye, I was caught by surprise with something else. "Since we're taking a break… would you mind if I gave your theatre ticket to Michael?"

I wasn't hurt by his question. It was a perfectly legitimate request, or so stated the only functioning part of my brain. I wasn't even insulted by however inappropriate a time it may have been. No, what caused the remains of my heart to drip from my eyes was when I replied "I don't mind" and realized I meant it.

I know what you are thinking: "Thanks Song, for bumming me out!" Believe me, I wish I didn't have to, but I can't control what these characters do. Dan Schnider wrote them, not me. This may be the saddest part of the story, but it's far from the most action-packed. No, we have a giant complication arising (which most of you have probably already spotted) and we are going to learn where these friends stand with each other.

I gave up drugs when I became addicted to reviews. Please give me my high. ;)