Chapter 16
Million Pieces

My heart hammers against my ears as Dale's dark green eyes bore into mine. It seems like I'm letting him see through me, and I feel like I'm vulnerable. Now that I'm closer, closer enough to see how gorgeous his eyes are, I can see the flecks of gold just around the irises.

His palm is still resting on my hip, and I'm frozen, unable to move but to only stare at his eyes. I search for his face, for any sign of discomfort or annoyance, but it's as if I'm looking at a wall made of bricks. But that doesn't deny the fact that I'm liking this. Hell, I'm loving this, and I wish this moment would never end. Just this moment, and that's it, I'd never ask for more. But at the thought of that, there's an annoyance bubbling inside me, because I know myself. I know that I'm selfish enough to wish for this again, to want this again.

The warmth of his hand seeps right, though there's a fabric separating, preventing the skin of his palm from touching the bare skin of my hip. The pounding of my heart gets louder, and neither of us speak. Neither of us moves. The silence is so thick, as well as the tension. Words stuck in my throat, and my mind has gone suddenly blank. There are questions that I want to throw at his face, but I can't seem to force myself to ask those questions. Instead I gulp them down.

I wonder if this is just a dream. This feels too surreal, and I know that this only happens in my dreams. This only happens in an alternate reality, where we're so in love with each other and nothing can take us apart, where our motto is: us against the world.

Dale's face contorts into something I have seen before, and he rarely shows that emotion, and for a moment, I see a face of a kid in front of me, a kid who has been lost, that has been hurt, that has been denied of something. But as fast as it appeared, it disappears and I feel a flare of hurt inside my chest. I want to ask him if he's okay, if there's something wrong, if there's any way I can help him, to lift his spirits up, but just like a piece of slob, I can't do so. I'm a coward. His thumb twitches, and though it's just a tiny move, I feel how tense he is. He has become frigid, and I force myself to pull away. His hand slips off my hip, and I can't keep my face from showing disappointment. Something flashes in his eyes, and he clenches his hands.

"Dale..." I whisper his name like how it's a holy name, that it shouldn't be said from the mouth of a criminal or sinners. I want to comfort him, to give him a hug that would make him forget all of his worries and troubles and pain, if there is any. Why? "What are you doing here?"

He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but then he shuts his mouth close and stares at a distance, his hair flying as the wind brushes past us. The ring bells, indicating that the next class has just begun, but I can't move. I don't want to leave him here. I want to stay here with him. There's something wrong, I can feel him. "Nothing."

"Nothing is definitely something." I say, smiling up at him. It hurts me to smile at him, because I know that I can only give him the smile of a friend, but never a smile of a lover. And somehow that's the most painful thing I can't seem to bear as of the moment. I can be beside him, to help him, but I can only do it as a friend. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay."

"Is there something between you and Dustin?" his jaw clenches as he says Dustin's name, and the way he says it, it's like he's spitting out a poison that he has accidentally consumed. He looks at me, eyes burning with hatred and... sadness, and I'm standing frozen, staring at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. That's something that I didn't expect from him. "Forget it, I was just asking." He begins to stand up, our shoulders brushing as he does so, but my arm stretches out, shooting forward and grabbing his.

My gesture shocks me. There was something, a force perhaps, that made my hand catch his. And now that I'm holding his hand, I'm not sure of what to do. "No," I croak, the single word escapes my lips. He turns around, and I lower down my head, as if I'm ashamed of what I have done. I should have never grabbed his hand. I should have let him go away, because that's supposed to happen. "No there's nothing between us. I mean, between Dustin and I."

Dustin has already said earlier that we'd remain friends, best of friends rather, and he made it clear to me and to everyone. The fact that Dustin has just said that fifteen or twenty minutes ago, and it seems that Dale has already forgotten about that. Please don't let go of my hand, I might break. Please. I silently beg, praying that he would never let go of my hand. He sits beside me again, and I sigh in relief. His hand grips mine, and a sigh escapes his lips as his hand slips off of mine. I shut my eyes, preventing the tears from slipping out of my eyes. I push back tears, not wanting to cry in front of him.

The bell rings again, this time, it seems louder that the last time. I frown at it, and gulp. Our eyes meet, and his eyes say a thousand words, words that I cannot fathom. He stands up again, and this time I follow suit.

"I like you," I blurt out suddenly, not holding back. "Like so much."

His jaw clenches again, hands still in a fist, so hard that hands are turning white. There's this urge to hold his hand again, to pat the back of his hand and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

But he says one thing that makes my heart break, into a million pieces. "I should have never gone to you. I'm sorry. Forget this." He turns around, and as he turns around and walks away, he takes a piece of my heart, ripping it out of my chest. My knees wobble, suddenly weak and I fall, my chest hitting back the wooden supporter of the bench.

I put my face in my hands, tears beginning to pour of my eyes. Every sound around me fades – the rustle of the trees as the wind picks them up, the slight chirpings of the birds, the flap of the wings, the chattering of the students, and all I can hear is my heart that is breaking, my mouth that is releasing silent pleads, and my eyes that keep pouring out tears.

I've decided to go home. As I leave the school's boundaries, I contemplate whether I should buy an ice cream for myself, and decide against it. I don't feel like eating ice cream today. This is probably the most painful thing I have dealt with, compared to what I felt when my heart got broken by a mystery guy I had met on the internet, and when my heart got broken by Gloss when he chose Noah rather than choosing me. People keep bumping me on my shoulders as they walk past me, and nothing hurts more than Dale's words for me. I should have never gone to you. I'm sorry. Forget this. His words keep replaying inside my head like a broken record, and the way my heart beats... I'm not even sure if it's beating anymore. All I know is that my heart got broken once again.

When I reach my house, it took me almost twenty-five minutes just to reach my house by walking, my mother immediately sees me and she does a double-take, making sure that it's me that she has seen. She immediately notices my grim expression, and the way my shoulders are hunched down, and hastily walks up to me, brushing her palms against her skirt and she goes to hug me.

"I told him I like him," I murmur, and I break once again, crying my heart out to my mother, who just tightens her hug around me, motherly. "I told him I like him but he crushed my heart." Tears keep pouring out, drenching the shoulder blades of my mother's dress.

My mother runs her palm back and forth across my back, saying soothing words that she thinks will lift my spirits up, but nothing is working. Perhaps sulking in the corner all day and night might work, and that's what I intend to do anyway. That's what I do best. She leads me into the house, hastily shutting the door behind us and we take a seat on the couch on the living room and I rest my head on my mother's shoulder. I just want to have my mother's comfort, and I'm glad that she's here for me. This seems like a worse time for me, and she's always there at my worse times. I'm glad that she's my mother.

She never stops running her palm across my back, and as she does it, the tears slowly stop until I'm not crying anymore. Neither of us speaks. Just having my mother's comfort is enough to make me stop from crying, but that doesn't stop the pain from bursting inside my chest. I feel numb suddenly. I'm not sure on when I can recover, or if my heart will still be okay after this, but I have this feeling that it will be forever broken. It's still going to work, but it will be forever broken.

I've had enough, I think.

"Whoever that guy you confessed with," my mother begins, her tone slightly edged, as if she wants to rip the person who broke my heart – I'm not letting her, she continues, "he's an asshole."

Despite what I'm feeling, a chuckle escapes my lips and my mother looks at me with a worried look, her thumbs removing the stains of my tears across my cheeks. I bet my eyes are red from crying. I realize that I've been biting my lower lip so hard, and I let go of it. "I think agree with you, mom." She chuckles, hugging me once again and I let her, let her hug me because this is what I need. "I hope you don't mind that I skipped a few classes; I really, really needed you and I felt that you're here."

"Well," she says, tapping her chin with her index finger, her eyes rolling upwards, looking at the ceiling, "I think that's a valid reason why you skipped, but next time, you have to face the reality. You may have been rejected, but what matters most is that you've got the courage to try, and that's something... that makes you brave. And you have to continue being brave, even if it means you will be hurt in the end."

"Well, I'm definitely, exclusively, officially single forever," I say, chuckling, shaking my head.

"That means only one thing: You are definitely, exclusively, officially my baby forever,"

After my mother and I have talked, I immediately head into my room, not wanting to see the world. I hope my mother will let me not go to school tomorrow, because I'm not really prepared to see him yet. The wound is still fresh, and I'm still in pain. I have no tears to cry, and that's something. It hurts more than my previous heartbreaks.

I should give myself a chance; a chance to be happy, to be alive, to feel love and be loved. That's something I should do. That's something I should not deprive myself off.

And you have to continue being brave, even if it means you will be hurt in the end.

Even if it means you will be hurt in the end.

You will be hurt in the end.