one.

"Ali?" I say quietly into my phone, having just woken up. The bright sunlight is hitting my room at an awkward angle, casting a glare on the screen of my phone, and forcing me to squint my eyes.

"Yeah?" she asks from the other end.

"What do you think?" I don't have to say anymore than that, knowing that Ali already knows what I'm talking about.

There's a silence on the other end before I hear her high-pitched voice. "Okay, so. I don't even know what to think! I was initially too much in shock that she had actually released new music and it wasn't a joke that I had to listen to it for about five times before I really heard what she was saying. And, like, the lyrics, to be honest, weren't that great. But! But, there's always a but. I think it was the way that she sang it, you know, vocally, that really made me truly love the song. I was sitting in bed at three a.m. sobbing, and you know me, I don't cry."

I'm nodding throughout her entire breakdown of her feelings for the song, before realizing that she can't see me. "Yeah, I agree with everything that you said," I say, relieved that I wasn't the only one brought to tears. Though, really, it isn't a remarkable feat to achieve. A symptom of depression: crying a lot for what seems like trivial reasons.

"After ten times or so of listening to it, I realized that it wasn't really about her breakup. Instead, it was about how she regretted her relationship," Ali says. "She talks about how she should have listened to what everybody else was saying about Kellan Harbor, rather than letting herself be blinded by his false smiles and lies."

I have to agree with what she's saying. "Yeah. She definitely is much stronger than I was after Noel."

Ali sighs. "Yeah. But that's okay. Everybody deals with breakups in different ways. And Noel was a disgusting human being. I'm still down for smacking him in the face a couple of times." Ali may be small, but she made up for her lack of height with her fiery personality. I, on the other hand, while average-sized, kept to myself, not strong or brave enough to fight my own battles.

"Lee? Are you okay?" I hear Ali asking. She must be worried because of the long silence that just ensued.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about everything that happened with Noel," I say, cursing myself for even saying his name, let alone dwelling on a situation that I've already acknowledged as being one that I can't change.

"Don't! Don't even think about that swine. He doesn't deserve even that!" Ali says defiantly, making me thank the stars that we are friends. I can always count on her to be my confidence-booster and my buffer against my cheating ex-boyfriend.

"Hey, it's almost time for school and I'm not even close to being ready," I say suddenly, having an innate urge to end the conversation. I'm not good at talking to people, even my closest friend.

"Yeah, same. I'll see you at school, Lee."

"Yeah, see you," I say, before hanging up. When her face disappears from the screen, I felt out a breath of a relief, though remorse is eating away at me at how cruel I'm treating my best friend. Lately, I've been feeling as if the monster is taking up more than one aspect of my life; not only is he messing with my emotions, but he's also changing and ruining my relationships.

I get dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a white three-quarter sleeved top. Pulling on my Vans, I head downstairs, making sure to put everything into my backpack and grabbing my phone before walking into the kitchen to find something to eat. Today is already a better day than most: some days I can't force myself to get out of bed. The monster holds me captive on those days, eating me away from the inside, but today, he seems more subdued than usual.

I once heard somebody, a celebrity in an interview, call anxiety their monster. I've always admired icons and influencers who are forward and public about their mental health. For some reason, the term has always stuck for my anxiety and depression. While I'm not clinically diagnosed, as my mother has a large distaste for conventional medicine, both she and I have come to accept the fact that I have some form of severe depression. What triggered it was my dad's leaving us permanently, embarking on his own form of finding his own identity, leaving my shocked mother and a spiraling me behind.

But Luke has always brought me closer to the light, though sometimes it feels like a two steps forward, one step back situation. Today, however, is different. Luke has released new music and it's given me incentive to complete the day however I can.

"Hey, Lisa!" my mother says brightly, a smile crossing over her exhausted face. I should be feeling some sort of guilt for the stress I've caused for her, and I do, faintly, but the monster has managed to tamp my emotion center down to close to nothing.

"Hi, Mom," I say, not making eye contact. I've always found it hard to make eye contact with people, even relatives or those close to me. It just always seemed to strange and out-of-place, and although I've tried, I've never been able to do it with feeling an unpleasant sensation running through my body the entire time.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, cautiously, as though she's afraid I'll lash out.

"Better," I say, shrugging. Not good, but better than usual.

"That's great. Do you want some food?" she asks, trying to keep up the energy since I can't force myself to even try.

"Sure. Light, though. I'm running late." I'm also not hungry; the monster seems to consume all of my food in the end anyway.

"Sure, honey. I made toast and scrambled eggs." She passes me a plate with a piece of toast, and a small scoop of eggs. I spread some butter on the bread and force myself to bring it to my mouth, bite it, and chew. It tastes like nothing, though I don't tell her that. I haven't seen her happy in a while, and though I can't do anything to make it better, the least I can do is to try not to make it worse.

After shoving the rest of my food around the plate, my mother seems to understand that I'm not interested in eating. My younger twin brothers, Peter and Landon, come scampering down the stairs as I get up to leave, grabbing food and mumbling greetings to me. I nod to them and then grab my stuff and leave.

I drive to school in a better mood, listening to Luke's song, and trying to think if I am forgetting anything. Whenever I leave the house, a rare occurrence when it's not for school, I always have the sensation that I've forgotten something. Today, I can't seem to remember so I ignore it and park in the closest space to the door of our school. Heading inside, I text Ali to ask her where she is.

She doesn't respond but I soon spot her at the lockers, making out with her long-term boyfriend, Ashton. I grimace; of course she's not responding to my texts. She and Ashton have been together since eighth grade, which makes their relationship of five years the longest in our school. I clear my throat as I approach them, trying to ignore the memories of the moments I shared with my old boyfriend, Noel, as I watch them.

Ali reluctantly pulls away from Ash, though her hand stays on his waist. "Hey!" she says, grinning wildly. I debate telling her that her makeup is smeared, but Ashton beats me to it.

He whispers in her ear but I can still hear the words, given how close I'm standing. "You've got a little lipstick up here, babe," he says, reaching out to wipe it away. I'm beyond embarrassed and uncomfortable, and the term 'babe' has always made me gag. I don't say anything though, awkwardly third-wheeling as always. Ali blushes but grabs my arm.

"Let's go to the bathroom, Lee," she orders. I don't have it in me to fight back—I never do—and I follow her to the bathroom, where she proceeds to scrub at her face with a wet paper towel to try to get off the lipstick. It isn't the most successful task: makeup is nearly impossible to wipe off without makeup wipes.

"So. Do you think that Luke is back? For real?" Ali asks me, her eyes on her face in the mirror and mercifully not on me.

I shrug. "I don't know. I hope so. I don't think she would just release a song like that and not release anything else again."

"Yeah, that would be cruel of her. Plus, I bet her managers are going to make her release more music."

The thought makes me frown. "I hope not. Forced art is never as good as one that comes from the heart."

Ali turns to me, pausing in her task. "When did you get so philosophical?" she asks.

I roll my eyes. "I didn't. I just happen to know things."

She grins before turning back to the mirror. "Ugh, I hate makeup so much," she complains.

"Then why do you wear it?" I ask, though I regret the words as soon as they're out, knowing I'm in for an Ali-rant now.

As she proceeds to tell me about how makeup makes her feel more confident and how she needs it to cover her flaws, I tune her out. I personally think she's fine without it, and she looks more natural, but I don't tell her that, knowing she'll freak out.

Finally, she's done and we head back out into the place we call school. I walk to my first class, already desperate for the day to be over with. I'm interrupted on the trek there by a boy in my grade, Kenton Farley. Ever since he heard I dumped Noel, he's been trying to get my number. He's not being too pushy about it, but I've rejected him three times now. I sigh when I see him sidling next to me.

"Hey, hey, stop all that," he says. "I know you secretly love me and are just dying some of this."

I laugh. He's attractive and he knows it. He shamelessly flaunts his six-pack, biceps, and perfect model face to me everyday. "You wish," I retort dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

He grins. "I do, babe. Every night before I fall asleep."

I roll my eyes but I'm sure my face is on fire. "Kent, I don't—"

He cuts me off, but I knew it was coming so I'm not mad. "Before you say anything, babe, take a look at this." To which he proceeds to carry out his daily routine of flashing me with his defined abs. Girls flock around us but he doesn't seem to notice as he laughs at my reaction.

I shield my eyes with my hand. "Please put your shirt back down, Kent," I say, groaning to myself.

He does, as usual. "Only because you asked nicely," he smirks. "I know you liked it, though."

"In your dreams, Kent!" I say, walking faster and leaving him behind.

I hear his laugh echo from down the hall. "Every night, baby!"

I roll my eyes and head to class. Although he might be annoying, I have to admit that Kent's morning ritual does bring some brightness to my otherwise dark days. I'll never tell him that though; I might give him too many false hopes.

I go through my classes in the usual mindless haze that I normally do. Gym is my second class, which is just my bad luck because it leaves me all sweaty and gross for the rest of the day. We don't have time to shower everyday, despite being out on the blazing hot field playing games such as soccer or football for an hour and a half. Whoever thought that Physical Education should be an integral part of a student's education was clearly overly athletic or had some problems: maybe he just liked seeing people fail. PE should be renamed public embarrassment, with the amount of times I've dropped the ball.

Thankfully, most of the boys dominate the class, taking control of the games and roaring loudly every time somebody scores. They don't seem to remember that I, or any of the girls for that matter, exist; I'm thankful for it but it is unfair since some of the girls are actually interested in playing.

To get an A, you only have to participate. I have truly mastered the art of pretending to participate in games. I run after the ball but stop before I ever get there, letting a tall boy take control. I raise my arms up enough so that the teachers sees I'm making an effort, but also subtly shake my head at any nice boys who are actually willing to pass to me.

After gym, I have AP Physics, a class I completely regret taking. I only took it to get the college credits, but lately, I haven't been able to keep up. I'd like to chalk it up to the monster hindering me from studying, but really, I must admit it's purely me. We have a test today, and I'm poring through my textbook before class, walking quickly there so that I can ask Mr. Coli some questions before the test.

With my head in a book and my mind full of equations, I don't notice him until it's too late.

I crash head-on into a boy and fall to the ground, hitting the back of my head. My book goes flying and lands somewhere far away from me. I cringe at the thought of ruined pages. I sit up, blinking back tears—my pain tolerance is zero—and watch as a blurred boy picks it up. I finally regain my vision and my heart sinks when I realize that the boy who I happened to collide with just so happens to be the boy I wanted to avoid.

I mumble an apology and grab my book from him, studiously not making eye contact as I try to escape the situation, but he grabs my arm gently before I can get away.

"Hey, Lisa."

"Noel," I say curtly, nodding at him. Though it was good while it lasted, our relationship ended in the worst way possible. It still hurts my heart to think about it to this day, and it's been months since we ended it. Or rather, since I ended it. He'd filled my head with wild ideas of romance and love and the possibility of somebody actually caring about me and what happened to me, and for some absurd reason, I had believed him. Maybe I was desperate, maybe I was blind, or maybe I was simply stupid. He made me want to do anything and everything with him but he cheated on me before anything ever really happened.

He's not a bad person; I'm the one to blame. I always knew that I wasn't right for anybody, and I stayed with him anyway, desperate for love and acceptance when I didn't deserve it. It was only fitting that he cheated on me with the prettiest girl in school, making an unforgivable mistake. What hurts the most is that I knew the final outcome of any relationship with somebody like me, and yet I still believed the lies that he told me everyday; I still believed that maybe it was different.

I turn away, shielding him from the onslaught of emotions that I'm sure are clear on my face. "Lee," he says as I start to walk away.

"Don't call me that," I say, flinching at the way his deep voice sounds as he says my nickname. Noel came up with the name freshman year and after that, it stuck. Everyone, even my parents, started calling me Lee. I hate it now but at the time I thought it was romantic that my boyfriend had thought up his own nickname for me.

Noel made me see the world differently, leading me to believe that whatever came out of his mouth was true. I blindly followed his every move until I had gone too far and had fallen too deep.

Noel smiles a little, his eyes boring into mine. I could never look away from him. "I see you're as feisty as usual." I flinch visibly. He always used to tell me I was too stubborn and hard-headed for his taste when we had our rare arguments. I never knew what to think of that until I caught him with Kelly Simpson in the guest bedroom at Axel's party.

I'm ruffled by his words and by his simply being there. "Well, I'm sorry I can't just change who I am." I move away from him, wanting to get to my next class, but he holds me back again. I huff and say with a slightly angry tone, "What do you want?"

He holds his hands up, letting go of me. "Hey, I just wanted to see if you're okay. I mean, it must have really hurt to fall like that. Do you want me to take you to the nurse's office?" He sounds genuinely concerned, and my heart flutters to life for a half second before I shake my head at him, causing his face to fall.

"Leave me alone, Noel. You promised you would. You told me, and I quote, 'We're done, Lee. I never want to see your face or speak to you again.' As if you had any right to be angry!And which was also, by the way, a poor choice of words because you so obviously broke that promise by speaking to me now." I stare up at him, my eyes blazing. "You cheated on me, Noel. And I don't have anything else to say to you." I stare defiantly up at him and he grins.

"You remember every word from that night? Aww. That's sweet." He reaches over to touch the side of my face and I flinch, turning away. "Hey, hey, hey, I'm just trying to be friendly," he says, holding his hands up.

I can't handle it anymore. I turn on my heel and walk faster than normal, needing to get away from him. He shouts my name and my walk turns into a jog and then a run. I must look crazy, but I'm going to be late, and that cannot happen.

I cannot let Noel snake back into my life only to destroy everything again.

You've got to let him go,

You've got to tell him you need to leave,

You've gotta be you,

For how else can you be free?

I recite the words of one of Luke's early songs, remembering how it helped after the breakup. Many hated her voice but as soon as I heard her words, I was done for. I learned from her that I needed to get out of a toxic relationship, and I got the strength from her to get through a broken relationship that had become such an important part of who I was. I know that in the end, I didn't get to decide if I should go through with it because Noel had done that for me, by putting his lips on another girl's, and letting me see the true side of him. It was him who ended it with that one action, and rightfully so because he was always in charge of our relationship.

It was never me. I was never heard. I can't remember the last time that Noel listened to me about anything that I cared about. If I ever tried to bring up my ideas or my opinion on something, he would either brush me aside or change the topic to something more trivial and more important to him.

And yet, I fooled myself into thinking I loved him.

And it isn't the fact that we're over that eats away at me to this day.

It's the fact that I allowed myself to be blindsided.

I played a fool.

this is the newly revised and rewritten version of chapter one. please let me know what you think!