Page 15 of It's Only Ever Been You

But now I’m the only one holding on to a moment that didn’t matter at all.

And the worst part? I don’t know how to stop caring. I don’t know how to just erase that kiss from my memory, to pretend it was just “nothing” the way he has. How can he look at melike I don’t exist, like I’m not worth a second thought, when he’s all I can think about?

I don’t even realize I’m crying again until I feel tears slipping down my cheeks. I bury my face in my pillow, letting out all the pain I’ve been trying to hold back, my tears soaking into the fabric as my chest tightens. I’ve never felt this kind of hurt before, this kind of ache that settles deep in my chest and refuses to go away.

During the following days I try to stay busy, distract myself with homework, reading, anything that might help me forget. But it doesn’t work. Every time I pass him in the hallways, I’m reminded all over again of what I’ve lost.

I see him leaning against his locker, talking to Kayla, the cheerleader I saw looking at him like he was a piece of meat the other day. She’s laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his arm as if she’s known him forever. Smiling down at her, he seems relaxed and comfortable, ignoring the fact that he turned my world upside down not too long ago.

I can’t help the surge of jealousy that rises up in me, even though I know it’s pointless. I try to remind myself that he’s my best friend, that this is probably just…a phase or something. Seeing him laughing and joking with someone else, so carefree and unconcerned, is a brutal reminder of the pain he’d caused. Reopening the wound over and over.

I want to confront him again, to demand answers, to ask why he’s doing this. But I’m too afraid of what he’ll say. Too afraid that he’ll brush me off again, leaving me feeling even smaller than I already do.

So I keep my head down, doing my best to avoid him, even though it feels like a part of me is missing. And every night, as I lie in bed, I wonder if he’s already written me off, if he’s already moved on while I’m still here, holding onto a memory that was never real to begin with.

……………………………………………………………

It’s been another week, and somehow, I’m getting used to it. Used to seeing him with other girls, used to the ache that follows me around like a bad dream. But just as I’m starting to think I can handle it, I hear his voice behind me in the hallway.

“Emma.”

I freeze, my heart pounding as I slowly turn around to face him. He’s standing there, looking almost casual, but there’s something in his eyes I can’t quite read.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He seems nervous. Rubbing his neck is something he’s always done. “We haven’t…talked in a while.”

I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah,well…you’ve been busy.”

He looks down, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I know. I’m sorry about that.”

I wait, hoping he’ll say something—anything—that might explain why he’s been acting this way. But he just stands there, shifting from foot to foot. He’s uncomfortable. Good.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Ethan, is there… something you wanted?”

He hesitates, then shakes his head. “No, I just…wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

The words sting, and I have to look away to keep from tearing up. “I’m fine,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He nods, looking relieved, and that only makes it worse. I want to scream at him, to tell him that I’m not fine, that I miss him, that I don’t understand what happened between us. But instead, I just turn and walk away, leaving him standing there in the middle of the hallway, still holding onto my heart as he watches me go.

Chapter Six

Haunted by Distance

Ethan

It’s been weeks since that night at the party, and even though I try to convince myself I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t make the regret any easier to swallow. Every time I see Emma—her face masking the hurt I know I’ve caused, guarded, like she doesn’t know me anymore. A part of me wants to drop the act, tell her everything. But every time I almost reach out, I pull back. I don’t want to risk it, risk her. But honestly, I’m risking her right now by ignoring her.

I replay the hurt in her eyes when she asked me about the kiss, the way her voice cracked when she asked if I remembered it. I was an ass. I tried to convince myself it was for the best. That keeping my distance was what she deserved, a way to protect her from me. But every time I see her—catch a glimpse of her in the hallway or hear her laugh from across the room—that theory feels weaker.I keep wondering if she’s as hurt as I am or if she’s just…moved on. I wouldn’t blame her if she did.

Rumor has it some guy—Daniel, I think his name is—has been asking about her. I don’t know him, but I’ve seen him a few times in the hall, hovering around her locker, cracking jokes. And she laughs. The look on his face let’s me know he thinks he’s already got her wrapped around his finger.

It’s driving me insane. Part of me wants to knock him down a peg, to remind him that Emma’s not just some girl he can toy with. But I know I don’t have the right—not when I’ve been treating her like she doesn’t matter.

Wednesday at school, I spot them walking together. She’s laughing at something he said, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen her in weeks, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. I keep my distance, just watching, but every step she takes away from me I know I’m losing her, even though I’ve been pushing her away.

I can’t take it anymore. I catch up with her in the hallway, while she’s talking to that Daniel guy. My hand lands on her shoulder, maybe a little too rough, but I don’t care.

“Emma, can I talk to you for a second?” My voice comes out sharper than I meant, but I can’t stop myself.

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