I pace around my room, every step just adding to this tight, restless feeling inside my chest.

It’s like the walls are shrinking and closing in on me.

My phone lies on my bed, face-up, totally silent. No messages. No replies.

I sent Luna two texts—[Can we talk?] and [I’m sorry.]—but nothing. It’s like she’s just erased me from her life, from the earth at large.

The door creaks open, and Sarah steps in, arms crossed with a frown on her usually bubbly features.

She throws a glance at my phone, then at me, her expression softening like a reflex.

“What are you doing here?” I mutter, trying to bust myself with folding one hoodie.

“Had to check if you were okay. You're not answering your phone.”

I nod, I left school in the morning because I know it might sound dramatic but I couldn't sit through a lesson and pretend I'm there when I'm not. When I got home, Dad was on a work call so he didn't ask so many questions.

“Still no response?”

I shake my head, looking away. “No. And I don’t know what to say that’ll fix it, anyway.”

Sarah lets out a sigh, studying me carefully.

I want to tell her to choose her words carefully but none of this is her fault and I should be grateful she is here to cheer me up or whatever.

“Can I be honest with you?”

I don't say anything so she continues.

“Naomi, you really screwed up.” Her words sting, even though they’re nothing I haven’t told myself a thousand times already. “It’s not like she overheard some small thing. She trusted you and just discovered it was all just a dare.”

My stomach twists, guilt flooding over me again.

“I know, okay? I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I should have just been straight with her from the start and none of this would have happened. It would have all been just harmless.”

“Harmless?” Sarah raises her eyebrows. “You led her on. You got close to her. That’s not harmless, Naomi. And now she’s heartbroken. You really could have done it differently. Girls like Luna don't open up easily and when they do, it's just...” she trails off.

I bite my lip, trying to push down the rising panic.

I really want to throw something at her right now for being so blatantly honest with me and it hurts.

The truth is, the dare stopped  mattering to me a while ago. It stopped mattering the second I got to know Luna and realized she’s this incredible goofball who likes to keep to herself.

Her laugh, her smile, the way she sees the world—it all just got to me.

Sarah watches me for a minute, then her expression softens.

“Look, I know you're my best friend but you're wrong for this, if you care about her like you claim to, then maybe it’s time to fight for her. This isn’t about the dare anymore, right?”

Her words hit me hard. It isn’t about the dare—it hasn’t been for a long time.

I like Luna, really, really like her, and I can’t just let this end like this. I nod slowly like this is the brightest idea ever.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

She pulls me into a hug, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Go get the girl," she says smiling.

Cheesy, I want to say but I just nod on her shoulder.

When Sarah leaves,  I sit on the edge of my bed. My chest is still heavy from all the hurt and guilt.

Sarah might have worsened how I'm feeling but she was right about one thing. This is not about the dare anymore. In fact, fuck the dare, I need to make things right, I can’t just sit here and feel sorry for myself.

I have to show Luna how much she means to me and prove that she’s more than some stupid dare.

Later, I head downstairs and find my dad sitting on the couch, a stack of college brochures on the coffee table in front of him.

He looks up as I walk in, giving me a quick nod.

“Everything okay?”

I shrug, trying to play it off, but I can feel the stress creeping in. I sit down across from him, glancing at the brochures.

If I act normal enough, he won't tell.

My future’s staring back at me, all neatly laid out in glossy pages, and it’s like a reminder of everything I should be focusing on right now instead of Luna.

Dad would be disappointed in me.

“Girl trouble?” Dad watches me carefully.

I hesitate, not sure where to start. My dad isn't the best person to talk about relationships with so I lie.

"Nope. Midterms coming up, stress."

He nods then gets back to the brochures.

  There's some sort of awkward silence between us before I decide it's enough. I get up to grab a water bottle from the fridge when Dad speaks again.

“A word." This time his voice is cold and final.

I take a swig from my water before I sit back across from him, trying to keep my cool, but the tension between us is thickening by the second and I seriously want to choke.

When he looks up, I notice his features have been trained with a frustrated look he always gets when he is about to deliver a lecture on how much I'm fucking up my life.

“Last time I saw you like this, you were mopping over a boy and it cost you your grades.” I want to gasp because that was from freaking fifth grade.

How can he bring this up now?

He doesn't give me a chance to respond, he continues. “You’re smart, but you’re acting reckless again.”

I press my lips together, breathing hard through my nose.

“Dad, you don’t know the whole story.” Wherever that came from.

“Then explain it to me,” he snaps. “Because all I’m seeing is you throwing away everything you’ve worked for over some... distraction.”

“Distraction?” I scoff, anger building up. “Is that how you see anything important to me? Just a ‘distraction’?”

He sighs, rubbing his forehead like he’s the one struggling to keep calm.

“You’re supposed to be focusing on your future, not wrapped up in... whatever this is.”

“Maybe because it actually matters to me!” The words come out sharp, slicing through the room, and for a second I can see the surprise in his face. “Not everything in my life is about school or my future, Dad. Some things actually make me feel like I matter.”

He shakes his head, looking at me like I’m just being irrational.

“That’s just teenage talk. Feelings are temporary. What you build now—that’s permanent.”

“Oh, of course.” I let out a laugh because what else is there to do. “Because if it doesn’t fit into your perfect plan, then it’s a waste, right?”

“Don’t twist my words,” he says, his voice going ice cold. “I’m saying you need to be smarter about your choices. This girl—is she even going to matter in a year? Five years?”

I feel something in me break a little. It’s like he’s minimizing Luna to nothing, like she’s just this phase I’ll get over.

“You don’t know her.”

He sighs, clearly disappointed in me. “Maybe not, but I know you, Naomi. And I won't let you throw away your life for some stupid highschool crush.”

His words bite me on each and every part but I don't say anything.

He packs up the brochures and push them to me.

"I need you to make a decision on what college you're applying to and I need that complete application on this table tomorrow."

He turns and walks out.

I grab the brochures and throw them around the dining room and a second later, it's instant regret because I have to pick them back up.

Fuck!