"THIS IS ME TRYING"

you sat alone in your room for a while, attempting to calm yourself down. it really seemed stupid after a while, honestly. jeremiah was probably just trying to be nice, and she might find someone else to bring her anyways. it wasn't something you had to freak out about.

jeremiah knocks on your door after almost an hour.

"come in," you call out. you're laying in your bed, aimlessly scrolling on your phone. jeremiah comes in and smiles at you softly, then takes a seat on the edge of your bed.

"moms are back," he says. "storms pretty much let up now, but they're still trying to figure out the power."

"that's good," you reply. he studies your face.

"is everything okay? you...left kinda abruptly."

you look down at your hands. "oh, uh, yeah. i just...i don't know."

"what is it, (y/n)?" jeremiah asks, his tone serious. you look up at him.

"are you seriously going to be belly's escort?"

he flinches. "oh. that. yeah, i think so. i mean... she told me that apparently conrad asked to be her escort but he's been so shitty to her lately i just figured that i would do something nice for her. why not, right?"

"yeah, sure," you say dismissively, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. "why not?"

"what's the problem, (y/n)?" he asks genuinely. you sigh and shake your head.

"why is she the exception for you, jeremiah?" you ask. "why, out of everyone, is she the exception?"

he stares at you, confused. "what the hell are you talking about?"

"every single time a debutante ball has ever been brought up you've sworn to never be an escort in your life. why is now your one exception?"

"why does it matter?" he asks. "i care about belly. of course i'm going to do something nice for her. why are you so mad about it?"

"are you kidding?" you ask, anger suddenly rising in your chest. "do you not remember when i was going to be a debutante last year?"

"(y/n), what does that have to do with me?"

"the day we sat down at dinner and i said that i was thinking about being a debutante. you immediately sat there and scoffed, and said that debutante balls were terrible and you would never be an escort," you shake your head. "i gave up on being a debutante after that."

jeremiah's voice dropped. "but, why? why did my opinion matter to you? you had so many guys who would have been your escort."

"you were the only person i would even consider asking, jeremiah," you blurt out, and he lifts his head in surprise.

"what?"

"i genuinely cannot believe that you don't know this already," you run your hand through your hair. "i wanted to be your exception, jere. i would've loved to be a deb if you were my escort. but you couldn't stand the idea of being my escort, could you?"

"(y/n), if i had known..." he trails off. you shake your head.

"whatever, okay?" you say. "it doesn't matter anymore. i've moved on from it."

"you could have told me," he says.

"you really don't get it, do you?" you ask. "you made it such an obvious point to bring that up in that moment. you knew what you were doing, jeremiah. you didn't think of me the same way. it's whatever. be belly's escort. she deserves to have someone who cares about her."

"why do you just assume i was trying to hurt you?" he asks, his tone suddenly defensive. "why couldn't it have been an honest mistake, that i didn't realize you thought of me like that?"

"what do you want me to think, then? that you tried to hurt me or that you're blind?"

"you're being ridiculous."

"ridiculous? really?" you scoff. "how more obvious could i have fucking been? the last three summers i have done nothing but basically throw myself at you and you just—"

"no!" he yells, suddenly standing up from your bed. "no, (y/n), you don't get to do this! you came here this summer with a boyfriend and didn't tell me! we got so close this past year and you never fucking told me you had a boyfriend, so i walked in to this summer stupidly thinking that now was our time for something to happen. then you drop that fucking bomb on me and expect everything to be normal? you cannot call me blind when all summer you've been the one pretending that everything is as it's always been."

"jeremiah, you're literally not listening to me," you reply, mirroring his frustrated tone. "everything is as it's always been to me because you've always treated me like this! you've always acted like i was so special and then walked away from me into the nearest arms of some other guy or girl! you've never made your feelings clear. i'm so fucking sorry that me getting a boyfriend ruined all of your plans for us that i was never a part of."

"you're such a fucking hypocrite," he groans, running his hand through his hair. "you've always done the same thing! neither of us have ever expressed our feelings to the other. you cannot place all of this on me!"

"whatever, jeremiah," you say, not looking at him. "whatever makes you feel good about yourself."

he stands there and stares at you for a moment before turning around and leaving your room, slamming the door behind him. for what felt like forever, you sat motionless, staring at the door behind him. your mind was racing. jeremiah fisher just admitted he has feelings for you. that was a conversation you had imagined in your mind for years, but this wasn't at all how you wanted or expected it to go. part of you hated yourself for being so harsh. maybe he truly just didn't see the signs you gave him. maybe he talked himself out of believing them, just like you had for so long. but part of you was relieved that you got those feelings out. being in love with someone brings about positive emotions, but no one talks about the genuine resentment that goes along with the pining. as your feelings grew, so did the pain. a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. but, a new, maybe even heavier one replaced it. you just had the biggest fight of your lives with your best friend. no matter what, your friendship had to come first.

as much as you do genuinely believe that, you are still beyond pissed at him. you have so many unanswered questions that you aren't even sure how to ask him. part of you talked yourself out of even believing that he had meant that he had feelings for you, but you had to try to ignore those thoughts, or else you knew you'd make things worse.

although it was still early in the evening, shortly after he left, you put your phone down and go to sleep. you decide that being asleep was better than having to stay up and think about that conversation. the power still wasn't on, and it continued to rain outside for a while, the dark sky being a pretty good representation of how you were feeling. as dramatic as that seemed, it really was true. you felt so shitty. that was truly the only way to describe it. shitty and pathetic.