She sat on the stool with her back against the wall, absently playing with fallen strands of the messy blonde braid she had thrown together that morning. Her feet, hidden by her old, worn running shoes, crossed lightly at the ankles, resting against a bar on the legs of the stool. She bounced her leg in a slight and quiet panic.

He wasn’t coming. She knew that. But something compelled her to try, even though she wasn’t sure she could stand to see him. She bit her lip again and reminded herself why she must not cry. Crying shows weakness. Crying shows attachment.

She didn’t want to appear too attached.

She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so upset, anyway. He was only going to a different high school. That wasn’t that bad, right? He promised they would still talk. In the future, they could be together, once they were old enough. They wouldn’t lose contact. He promised.

But she was too smart for that, and so was he. She could tell by the look in his eyes and his absent smile that he was lying. He knew he was lying. They both did. As much as they wanted to stay in contact, they couldn’t. They would drift apart eventually.

She took a deep breath and closed her grayish blue eyes for a moment, once again reminding herself that she must not cry.

She wanted to be happy for him. Guilt plagued her daily for it. She could tell how excited he was every single time he spoke of it. This lovely private school he wanted to attend with the incredible academics. She loved to see him happy, but this time, it was bittersweet. He was happy, and she was happy for him, but not for herself.

She cried when he told her that he had been accepted. She knew he would be. Her worrying started then. But she lied to him. She told him she was happy for him. She was excited that he got in. She sent him these messages of praise and support while tears dripped down her cheeks. Fake. They were all fake. He should’ve known, but she was happy he didn’t.

She knew then that he would decide to go there. He wanted to. She wanted to argue him when he said their education would be better. She wanted to remind him of how many people got academic awards and perfect state test scores from the high school he would otherwise be attending. She wanted to compare and make a case for their high school. He belonged there, at home.

But she kept her mouth shut. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty about his decision. So she didn’t argue. She didn’t tell him that she cried. She didn’t tell him that she had to take pills the night he made his decision so she could stop sobbing and go to sleep. She didn’t tell him that she had to excuse herself from several classes the next day in order to pull herself together.

She didn’t tell him how broken she was.

Seeing him was unbearable. As much as she wanted to stay and savor every last second she had with him before they would begin to fade away, she had a tremendous urge to distance herself. She didn’t want to get any more attached. It would only result in more pain for her. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want any more pain. She wasn’t sure she could handle it.

He told her she would stay in his life, no matter what. But she knew. She knew that her chance was gone. They would no longer speak. There was no reason to wait anymore. She would lose him. She would lose her best friend. Her savior. Her sunshine. Her everything. She would lose the boy she loved.

She did love him. She was so, so, deeply, passionately in love with him. He was constantly on her mind. He made her happy. She longed for him. She was willing to wait for him as long as it took. Until they were old enough. She needed him.

But he wasn’t coming. She knew that now.