Page 37 of Lonely Hearts Day

“Is that good news or bad news?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, and I didn’t. It wasn’t a lack of opportunities that had been keeping me and Jack apart; I was sure about that. There were plenty of times where we could’ve been at the same place on the same day, and either he had avoided it or I had. It wasn’t like if we had ever been in the same room at the same time our friendship would’ve been magically repaired. I didn’t even know if I wanted it to be... no, that was a lie. I did know. I wanted it to be, but I didn’t know if it was possible and I was tired of heartbreak.

Sometimes things just changed, and I had to accept that.

I’d accepted my parents’ divorce. It had taken too long. But I had. They were happy. And that made me happy.

I’d accepted that Valentine’s Day could not be a holiday for single people. And that was okay. Lovers could have their holiday, and I was done trying to commandeer it. That took me too long to accept as well. I’d become too obsessed.

I needed to accept that I’d also lost my best friend.

But maybe, maybe before accepting that, I needed to actually try to fix things. Ask him for what I needed. Tell him how he’d hurt me. Be vulnerable. That was hard for me. I’d grown up being hyper-independent. I used to think that was a strength. It took me too long to realize it was actually a weakness.

It wasn’t that I had made zero effort with Jack this last year. I’d smiled at him a couple times in the halls if we passed each other. He’d smile back. I liked a few of his posts. He’d done the same. We may have slammed shut the metaphorical door on each other but we hadn’t locked it.

“Does he know thatI’mcoming?” I asked.

“I think so,” she said.

“And he’s still going to come?”

“I think so.”

That made my heart beat faster. “Should I send him a rose?”

Her eyebrows popped up.

“With a really bad poem attached.”

“What message are you trying to convey? That you’re in love with him or that you want to be friends again.”

“Uh...” I froze.

“Because you are in love with him, right?” she asked.

I took a deep breath in through my nose. Maybe shecouldread my mind.

“You get this longing look in your eyes when you see him,” she said. “You immediately change the subject any time I’ve ever brought him up. Wait, is that also why when Cooper Morris made out with you over the summer, you ghosted him the next day.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, that was mostly because his kissing style is very... wet.”

She curled her lip. “Ew.”

I hooked my arm in hers as we walked toward class. “So you think a rose is the wrong call?”

“I don’t know; you haven’t answered my question.”

“What was your question again?”

“What message are you trying to convey?”

“Right. I guess I need to figure that out.” If some miracle happened, did I want things to return to exactly how they were? Could I get over the simmering anger I’d felt for a year now? Could I even hope for something more?

When my entire world fell apart

You picked up the pieces of my heart

I know it’s been a whole year