Page 31 of Hard to Pretend

Finally, realization settled on his face. I wished I knew what he could see, what he’d found while studying me and piecing together things that I’d said and hadn’t said.

“It’s more than being afraid that he doesn’t like you back,” he said slowly. “You’re afraid that he does like you back, and he’s going to hurt you. You’re afraid that you’re going to show him the vulnerable parts of yourself, and that you’re going to get heartbroken.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. I could see Jonas on the other side of him, his hands folded tight on the pillow like he wanted to reach over and grab my other hand. I took comfort in both of them, in the fact that they saw and knew me better than almost anyone. “Being afraid of getting hurt is just being afraid of living,” Matt said after a few quiet moments.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean living means getting hurt,” Matt told me softly. His hand was still in mine, calloused from hours spent on his boat. “Getting hurt just means that you’re actually alive. It means that you’re open to experiencing life.”

“How do you do it?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “I just know that even if it hurts, it’s worth it.”

“What is?”

“Love,” he answered without missing a beat. Then he shook his head. “Not just love. Life. Living. All of it is worth the risk of being hurt.”

I would never not be amazed by the resiliency of my best friend’s heart. He felt everything deeply, but he never stopped feeling it. He never let fear of a little pain keep him from experiencing everything that life had to offer. I didn’t think that I would ever be as brave as he was.

I didn’t think I even had the capability of being that brave.

But Matt had the answer on how to start. “Go talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”

I looked at Jonas and he shook his head. “Matt and I are going to go get dinner,” he told me. “Youare going to go get your man.”

His voice was firm and left no room for argument.

My heart was pounding as I drove through King’s Bay. Jonas and Matt had stuck around just long enough to make sure that I actually made it to my car. Then they didn’t pull out of their parking spot until after I did. I was surprised they didn’t follow a car’s length behindme the entire way to Chris’s apartment, just to make sure I didn’t chicken out.

I wanted to chicken out.

The entire time I drove to Chris’s apartment, I was fighting the urge to turn around, to run back to my apartment and hide under the covers. I didn’t like letting myself be vulnerable, and this was the most vulnerable I’d ever allowed myself to become.

I had a crush on Christopher Singh.

And now, I was going to tell him.

I pulled up and parked in front of his apartment. I didn’t know what I was going to say. Maybe I should have brainstormed that with Matt and Jonas before I let them talk me into telling Chris how I felt. How was I even going to do this?

I’d confessed my feelings to exactly two people in my life.

It had worked out the first time. It had been a guy I liked in high school. We’d dated for exactly two months, and it hadn’t been the most exhilarating relationship in the world. The second time had been in college. I’d told this guy I liked him, and he’d laughed in my face. He’d actually laughed, and while he was laughing, he told me exactly why he didn’t like me that way. Points he’d made included the fact that I had a bad haircut and I was too scrawny.

I’d fixed the bad haircut. I’d put on a little bit of muscle since then. But I was sure that Chris could still find a thousand other things that he didn’t like aboutme. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to spend the day with me after all. Maybe he’d been happy that I had plans.

“Living means getting hurt.” Matt’s wise words replayed in my head.

I took in a deep breath and forced myself out of the car. I didn’t let myself think as I raced up the stairs to Chris’s apartment and pounded on the door.

My heart was racing.

I was terrified.

12

Iwasgoinginsane.

That had to be the only explanation for what I was doing.

I was laying on my bed, staring at pictures on Seb’s social media. I was studying the little details of his face. I was memorizing the five o’clock shadow in one of his pictures and the way his eyes sparkled as he laughed at something off camera in another. I was mesmerized by a picture of him with his best friends, head plopped over on Eli’s shoulder with a shit eating grin on his face. I wanted to know what had been said to put that smile on his face.

---