The unbearable silence felt painfully everlasting; neither of us ushered a word for some moments. It was an odd staredown of apparent opposites. Victor was everything I was not. The boy was popular for all the stereotypical reasons... Victor had a great vibe about him. He was kind to everyone - morons included, a compassionate captain of the school's soccer team, and really, he would go out of his way to solve issues for his classmates. And, oh well, let's not mention his looks. Victor was attractive, really. His brown, curly hair and sharp features made most girls practically drool over him like crazy... And in all fairness, in retrospect, I... I may have caught feelings too.

For a brief moment, the painful memories of our lost intimacy surfaced afore dulling once more, replaced only by the lingering aftermath of the feelings I tried to suppress. Albeit, the thought lasted merely a moment before it faded out. I then remained in utter silence, waiting until Victor would speak up - yet he would not. He was nervous. The ceiling light bounced off his sweat-coated, glistening forehead.

Frowning lightly, I realised he was still the same as last year. He was still a coward. I attempted to tug my arm free of his grip - yanking, even. Neither yielded results. Victor's grip was firm and uncompromising, just as I remembered; how his tight embrace was seemingly unbreakable.

Upon noticing my struggle to break free, Victor tightened his hold, almost reaching a pain threshold - still, I yelped.

Then, he begged, "Please, you've been evading me long enough," whilst peering deep into my eyes, hopeful.

Foolishly enough, I could not resist glancing back into his sharp, piercing eyes - and as such, the ceasing feelings I had experienced toward him were suddenly reinvigorated. My cheeks felt as though they had been set ablaze; in the reflection cast upon the glass panes, I noticed a faint brush of pink across my face. I was blushing, embarrassingly enough. I pressed my lips together, biting onto the lower one. Raising my shoulders in a shrug, I acceded, stutteringly declaring, "F-Fine, two minutes, Victor." Shyly emphasising, "Two."

His eyes lit up, a sparkle of hope shining through. Victor loosened his hold on my arm immediately; I pulled my arm back, relieved the heavy tension had been lifted. I swear Victor must've nearly cut off the blood flow to my palms.

Escaping my thoughts, I prepared to hear Victor out.

"Thank you, Xave-"

Despite his thanks, I cut him off. Ducking my head, I was whimpering, barely able to usher his name, "V-Victor..." I gulped. The nerves were already getting to me. I was at a loss for breath, "Don't call me Xave,"

His soft, hopeful smile faded out, and Victor furrowed his brows, frowning. Then he recollected his former posture: once more wearing a cheerful, bright expression. He chirped, "So, how was your summer break, Xavier?"

He teasingly accentuated my name, likely believing I had decided to be a complete brat and play hard to get. As though we were still on good, playful terms.

Oh, how I wished for it to be unquestionable truth. But we were not - a far cry from, in fact.

I did not want to sneer, but I could not contain the negative thoughts that emerged whenever I saw Victor pass by. I cracked my lips open for a moment, then decided to remain silent. I contemplated for a moment, then realised I had to engage in this confrontation if I wanted to break contact. And so, with a stammering, weak voice, I stuttered, "W-We are not, we're not a, you know, thing." I moved my fingers, drawing air quotes to drive the point home. "Like, I can't even call you a f-friend anymore."

Something seemed to snap as the situation dawned upon him. Victor looked away; a glint of anger mixed with regret shone through his confusion.

"I - Xavier, this isn't funny. Please, stop it."

I averted my eyes away from Victor's face as I raised my head. I had prayed the confrontation would have gone by in a matter of a swift exchange. But, of course, I would have to stand my ground and bring up all that occurred. We briefly remained silent, and then I inhaled a final breath as I gathered the courage to get the point across.

"Victor, I-"

I was unsure how to say it without crying my heart out - all the pent-up frustration I felt towards him began to stir up at once,

"Yes?"

I did not have the heart to look him in the eyes. I whispered softly, "I'm not kidding," I felt his disbelief; his stare was burning into me; suffocating me by the second. I elaborated, "W-We can't be seeing each other again." I added. Even if I did not wish to admit it, I had rather seen things turn out differently. Victor cared for me. He made me feel important. Until he reminded me, he deemed maintaining his reputation - as the school's straight star soccer player and pretty boy - salient.

I forced myself to look at Victor, my voice low and hurt, "It always ends in trouble for me," I muttered, tears beginning to well up.

"C'mon, Xavier, it isn't like that at all," complained Victor, patting me on the head, rustling my hair. He was gentle with me, but his touch did not feel the same way it used to. It all changed when his teammate spotted us at our usual stowaway location.

Whining, Victor resumed his reply, "Don't you think you're being a bit too dramatic?"

I bit my lip, shaking my head. His remark was hurtful, yet, it left me momentarily startled. Did Victor not know what his actions led to? Plainly, after several months, he should have received some notion of the 'avoid-Xavier-like-the-plague' consensus people held.

He awaited my answer, then took a step back as he saw the tears in my eyes.

"Just- Just shut up, please," I snarled weakly.

"I'm sorry, Xavier, I just don't get it. You've been ghosting me online, turned right around whenever you spot me... Why don't you wanna hang out with me anymore?"

So he was clueless. I felt like a jerk for almost lashing out.

I mumbled, "December 16th, last year. Remember when you first kissed me under the stairwell?"

"Y-Yeah,"

"Then, you must also recall we were seen, do you not?" I began tensing up as the memories of the event surged right back into me. I had banished them before and prayed they'd never resurface again, but, of course, they had to.

"...I do," answered Victor, cupping a hand over his mouth, realising what I was hinting at.

I crossed my shaky arms, "You caused so much shit for me, Victor. All because you said I forced a kiss upon your lips."

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, Xavier-"

He was remorseful and sincere, thankfully. Still, however, his actions had left me hurt.

"Your apologies will not cut it, Victor." I balled up my hands, digging my fingers into my palms. Every time, I was surprised at the lack of sharp nails poking my skin; then again, the anxiousness had brought about a nasty habit of nailbiting during stressful periods.

"I know, and I understand you. I panicked at the time, and I made a mistake. I understand you're mad, and you have every right to be. I was a jerk,"

"Mad?" I blinked slowly, a sarcastic touch to my voice. "I'm not mad at you-" I resumed before Victor cut my words short.

"Thank goodness," exclaimed the boy, sighing in relief - as if I had lifted a strenuous mental burden.

I turned away. Normally, I was not keen on cutting people off mid-sentence, but the subsided rage I had felt toward him for months spiked up again. Victor seemed certain words still held some semblance of power to mend what had been maimed. However, we had long passed the point of no return. We, what we had all those months ago, it all became null and void.

"I wasn't done," I jumped in.

Merely able to gather the strength to speak a simple, "Oh," Victor's voice plunged back into silence. He was psyching himself up to endure the coming storm. He crossed his arms, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket's sleeves.

"The first few weeks we started to hang out; I was on cloud nine. Believed you were into me, same as I was into you, Victor. I spent my days thinking about you, my nights: dreaming of us. It's cringe, I know. Maybe, those thoughts made the heartache worse when you betrayed me that December day." I blurted it all out, struggling to keep myself from shouting as I went on. But I could not contain my cussing. I had to let him know what it felt like.

"I thought we had something special going on between us..." I could not bare to continue right away. The words clung to the ceiling of my throat, refusing to come out.

Victor reached for my hand, "We do. I hold what we have dear to heart."

"And still," I got it together. Albeit I did not want to say it out loud, I decided to get it out quickly, as though I was ripping an imaginary bandage off my wounded heart. "You stabbed me in the fucking back, Victor." I broke out in tears, sobbing my heart out.

"God, I can't imagine how you must have felt. I am so sorry for all the shit I put you through, Xavier. Is there any way you can forgive me?"

I nodded softly, whispering, "Set things right: tell people what really went down that day - that you kissed me, and not the other way around."

"You know I can't risk it, not now."

With those words, I lost it - I broke down, "You smashed my heart apart, got this whole shitshow started, and dare wish for my forgiveness? Victor, you're a spineless coward. At least you now know what you did to me. How you broke me." I paused, "We're done- and for good. And, do not- ... do not turn to me when the guilt finally gnaws on you when you try to sleep at night."

I did not permit him a response. Instead, I walked off: tossing a final glance at the boy. My crude words left him battered and bruised, dazed out of this world, even. But it was for the better, for my own sake. With a heavy heart, I squeezed my eyes shut, blinked, and prepared myself for the remaining daily dose of torment.

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- 09/08/'22