Sitting at home doing homework was never fun, but today it felt way worse. You never just bring homework home from school. You bring friends, boyfriends, and even worse- problems. Too many to count. Mike had been brought home and I hadn’t yet had the courage to tell my little sister, Natalie that she most likely wouldn’t see Mike at our house ever again. Jessica was also here doing homework at my house with my friend Lexi, a freshman like me. Just another thing I brought home. But even with the two of them sitting by me on the rug in my bedroom, the problems I brought home are still hanging in the air.

Mike problems. Then there was also Brandon- a guy who had started talking to me on a daily basis at my locker. I already asked Jessica what to do about him and she said it was up to me. I hate when friends do that. The whole point of asking is to get an answer. Reflecting the question back at me is not an answer. I decide to just to not think about it as much anymore.

Then there was Natalie. She’s been begging to see Mike again. Last time I brought Mike home, he taught Natalie to play our Mario Bros. game on the Wii. She’d been playing every night and day just to impress Mike. I feel bad not telling her, but you cannot believe how happy she is and how happy I am for seeing it again. Ever since dad left she hadn’t really smiled the way Mike made her smile. She was glowing. Who was I to break her happiness?

So, back to Mike. Ever since lunch, he’s been avoiding me nonstop. I keep seeing glimpses of his back in the hallways, turning corners, entering rooms, or sometimes just his back in plain sight. I could tell he didn’t want to see me. He always acts like this. It’s how he plays me… almost like a game.

Loving me to death one minute then avoiding me the next. It’s his pity routine. Just like he intended, it hurt me, every single time. I would know that I should let him go, avoid him when he avoids me, but I can never stop thinking about him. He’s rooted in my brain and whenever I think I run right into him.

I think about his mistakes, about mine, and the part I hate most our memories. Before, when we were together, I didn’t call them memories, I called them ‘moments’ because that’s what they were to me. They weren’t just something to look back at. They were things to remember, but to remember as the best. They were moments because the best was always with you.

So I’m waiting to stop remembering. I’m waiting to stop thinking of you. I’m waiting for Natalie to forget. I’m waiting for Brandon to get a clue. But I can’t just wait. I have to do something, but the problem is I don’t know what. I can’t fix our mistakes.