I can't stop pacing. I think I'm going with Tasha and Bobbe to the hospital to see Bobbe's friend. I don't know how Bobbe's going to react. And from all of the time I spent in the hospital as a teenager, I know that gunshots in kids and surgery never mix well.

"Fuck," I mutter. I walk over to the window. The sun's about to set.

I hear footsteps and I turn around. Colton's leaning against the doorway. "Is everything okay?"

I sigh. "You can come in." I scoot over on the window sill. There's a small seat. I pull my knees to my chest. Colton sits across from me.

"What's up?"

I look out the window. "Bobbe's gonna see his friend at the hospital," I tell Colton. "I don't know how he's going to react."

"You'll figure it out," he says.

I sigh and look at Colton. "I hope so."

I don't know what else to say to Colton. It feels so awkward and tense. I really want everything to just be easy, but it's not, even though it should be with Colton. I don't know what we are because we're not friends, and we're not lovers. We're not acquaintances and were not good for each other. I'm so hopelessly lost and I have no idea what I want.

"I told you it was going to be awkward," Colton says.

"Whatever," I say. "Can I see your tattoo?"

Colton pushes up his sleeve and extends his forearm. I blush slightly when I realize how attractive his arms are. I tell myself to stop being so stupid and I touch his arm, trailing my fingers lightly over his arm. I understand why he got TODAY tattooed, but I think I'll always wonder why he got 229 tattooed along with it.

The three stupid numbers have so much meaning and so many memories. "Did you mean it?" I ask Colton, looking up from his arm.

"Did I mean what?" he asks.

"That one night during a party, you said you realized you loved me at 2:29 AM," I tell Colton. "Did you mean it? Or were you just drunk?"

He doesn't say anything for a minute, but then he sighs and says, "Of course I meant it."

I run my thumb along his arm. "I was so stupid," I tell Colton. "I loved you too back then, but I got scared of being hurt, so I hurt you first."

"You didn't love me," Colton says, and my eyes jump to his. I'm going to ask what he means, while I'm searching his intense gaze but he says, "If you loved me, you wouldn't have fallen in love with Bryce. You chose him. If you loved me, there never would have been a choice."

My lips fall open a little bit, and I know that I shouldn't say it, but it's like I can't stop myself.

"Maybe," I start, leaning towards Colton and dropping my voice to a soft whisper, "maybe I didn't love Bryce."

Colton moves his arm out of my grasp, but grabs my wrist and runs his fingers over it. "You don't want to go down that path," he tells me. "The past is in the past."

"You're the one that has today tattooed on your arm." I look at his arm. "Why did you get that anyways? Why get 229 when you only wanted to use me? Unless you were lying?"

"Maybe we should stop going down memory lane," Colton says, but he's still brushing his finger along my wrist and the palm of my hand.

"How do I know everything hasn't been a lie?" I ask him. "Even highschool. You said you loved me, but you slept with a lot of other girls."

Colton stops moving his thumb for a second, and he says, "You can hate me and think I'm a dick, but don't ever doubt that I loved you."

"Loved." I know it shouldn't sting, but it does. "That's past tense. You've loved me, but you don't anymore."

"You made your choice," Colton says. "You chose Bryce. That's when I lost the right to love you. I've made peace with everything that happened, and you should too."

Colton stands up, and he's already halfway across the room. "Maybe I chose wrong, you asshole," I say as I stand up.

Colton turns around, and there's still seven feet between us. "That doesn't change anything, Andy."

"What about everything else? All of the things we did?" I ask, and it's starting to feel like the same fight. "You can change what happens right now."

"I'll be gone tomorrow," Colton says. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Wait," I say, and it sounds so desperate. "I...fuck! I don't know what we are or how I feel about you, but if you leave...this can't be goodbye."

"I'll only make things worse if I stay," Colton tells me.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye," I tell Colton, shaking my head. "Please don't leave. You wouldn't give me a reason to stay, but I can give you one."

Colton sighs. "I have to leave at some point, Andy."

"But can't you just stay? And we can be friends. It doesn't have to be complicated," I tell him. "I need you, okay? Bryce is always gone, and it's so lonely here, and I don't want to be alone with all of the bad shit going on. Friends can support each other?"

I don't know why I'm begging Colton to stay, or why the prospect of losing him is so scary. I don't even want to be his friend, but it's so much better than him leaving. I'm not ready to say goodbye, and I know spending a few more days with him is only going to hurt me more, but it's better than him being gone forever.

"I don't want to be your friend, Andy," he tells me. "I never wanted to be just friends with you."

"Then what do you want?" I ask Colton, searching his eyes. "Say anything and it's yours."

"Saying nothing is better sometimes," Colton says, and my stomach sinks. "We just need to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry I was so stupid in high school," I say. "I was scared of getting hurt, but now I'm the most scared of losing you."

Something passes over Colton's face. Finally, he says, "Fine. I'll stay for a few nights, and only as a friend. And then it's goodbye."

**********************

I don't know why I'm so terrified of saying goodbye to Colton. And I don't know why he won't just say what he's thinking or why he keeps lying. I don't know what our relationship even is. We haven't kissed, we've barely touched and we've never even fucked.

But I know that I wish I could just be with him, and that things would be simple. And I know he must care about me, even just barely.

Maybe it's okay if we're friends. At least I'm not losing him yet.

I feel Bobbe tugging on my hand, and it pulls me out of my thoughts. "Are you sure y'all ain't trying to trick me into going to the doctor?" he says. We're sitting in the waiting room. Tasha's leg is bouncing nervously. I'm sure she's wondering if she's doing the right thing.

I look at Tasha. "We're not going here for you," I tell Bobbe.

"We're here to see Majeste," she says to Bobbe.

"He sick or something?" Bobbe asks.

Tasha looks at me. She sighs and then grabs his other hand. "Bobbe, something really, really bad happened today," she says.

"I told you..." Bobbe trails off. "Hold on a minute."

"A bad man came into your school today," Tasha says, and I feel Bobbe squeezing my hand. "He hurt a lot of people. He hurt Majeste."

Bobbe's face is furrowed in confusion. "Is he okay?"

"We don't know for sure, sweetie," Tasha says. She stands up. "I'm going to go check with the nurse."

Bobbe's squeezing my hand tightly. It looks like he's thinking really hard. He looks so confused. He's staring at the wall and a tear slips down his face. He wipes it away quickly.

"It's okay to cry," I say to Bobbe softly. He doesn't say anything. Tasha walks back and nods.

"We can go see him," she tells us. Bobbe and I stand up and follow Tasha down the hallway. "It's bad," she whispers to me, her eyes wide.

"It's okay," I whisper back to her. "You're doing the right thing."

We get to the end of the hallway and Tasha stops. "This is his room," she says. "Can you guys wait out here for a second?"

Tasha steps inside and I bend down. "You might see some things that are scary, but it's going to be okay," I tell Bobbe. "You can let me know if you want to leave. Just tug on my hand."

"I ain't gonna leave him," Bobbe says. I nod and stand up. Tasha opens the door, and I see tears in her eyes.

Bobbe walks in first and lets go of my hand. He walks up to his friend, who's laying on a bed that seems too big. It looks like Majeste is sleeping, but he has a breathing tube. Bobbe frowns, and he grabs his friend's hand.

"What's wrong with him?" he asks with wide eyes.

Majeste's mom steps forward. "He's just sleeping," she tells Bobbe. "He hasn't woken up yet, but he will."

"Oh," Bobbe says. "Can I be here when he wakes up?"

"We don't know when that will be, exactly," she says. "And he—" she cuts herself off and her voice is thick with tears.

"Sweetie, maybe we should come back later," Tasha says.

Majeste's mom bends down. "Bobbe, you and Majeste won't be able to play anymore," she says. "When he got shot, it hit his spinal cord. He can't...he's paralyzed."

Bobbe doesn't say anything for a minute, he just stares at Majeste. "We can still play. It'll just be a little different. I ain't gonna leave him," Bobbe finally says, and I think everyone's heart in the room breaks a little bit. I look at Tasha and I see her silently crying. And Majeste's mom is wiping away tears, and Bobbe's just staring at his friend who is never going to be the same.

I feel even sicker when I realize that Majeste is alive, but other kids aren't, and that means funerals where everyone's heart is going to break all over again. Before I know it, I'm crying too and it's so fucked up that one man walked into a school and wrecked so many people and families.