My brain scoffed at my heart disdainfully before snatching it with rough hands and throwing it out of the picture with a smirk. And so I pursed my lips with a newfound confidence and squared my shoulders, my hazel eyes boring into your own brown ones.
“You like her, don’t you?” The slight edge in my voice dared you to tell me that I was wrong, to answer with a lie the question that had weighed my mind down for the past three weeks.
Slowly, you peeled your eyes cautiously from my death grip and focused on the green chalk board that was covered in a couple of perfectly written equations. I shook my head; even Algebra couldn’t seem as complex as you had been as late.
“Yes.” Your voice had dropped from a normal decimal level and was lost in the sea of voices that swirled around the class, the movement of your lips giving away your answer.
For a split second my mask of courage slipped from my face and a look of pain stiffened over my features and I prayed that you wouldn’t notice if I tilted my chin away from you oh so slightly. The quick flash of sadness that danced across your eyes told me that you had and I scolded myself for being so transparent. I had known all along that you would answer with the exact word that you had chosen, so why was I acting so surprised? My mind slide to a stop and collected itself calmly. I would not allow myself to make two critical mistakes in the same conversation, however, and so I lifted my eyes to yours once more.
“You sure move on quickly, don’t you?” My tone was icy and sardonic.
It was your turn to look pained and despite the situation, I allowed myself the satisfaction of a tight smirk. You knew as well as I did that I was not referring to the girlfriend you had broken up with last month, but about the girl who had stood by your side day in a day out. The girl who had been the first to find out about the fight that had led to your heartbreak, the girl who had picked up the shards and glued them back together with a smile. The girl who had stood next to you through the remainder of your football season and through the beginning of basketball- your biggest fan.
I was talking about me.
For the first time since knowing you, didn’t allow myself to hear your carefully thought out response. Instead, I turned the other cheek and dropped my gaze to the scrap paper that lay beside me. It reminded me a lot of me and you. At first, the paper had been crisp and perfect, open and inviting. The first couple of problems? They had seemed easy enough and they had been carefully planned and solved as well. If one had stolen a quick glance at them, it would’ve seemed like a neat paper worthy of being turned in. As my eyes travelled farther down the paper, however, I began to see the mistakes. Some of the mistakes were blatant and I had no reason to mess with them, but others were hidden under thick coats of lead where I had scratched them out. All of the sudden the paper didn’t seem so perfect anymore- I stole a glance at your face which held a hodge-podge of feelings that I could not decipher- and suddenly neither did you and I.
My chest shook as I sighed deeply and reached out to grasp the paper. Pursing my lips, I crumpled the paper in a single, swift move before throwing into the waste bin with a swish.
There, I shrugged, problem solved.