I heard a familiar, voice shout across the room. My head shot up from its current resting place, the same laminate desk I loathed at the beginning of the school year was now somehow exciting and reassuring. Ryan was angrily heading my way. “Hey.” It was all I could muster. “That’s it?” He slammed his books down on the desk behind me, and I reluctantly turned in his direction. “I’m sorry.” “You ruined my Saturday, Sunday and Monday morning. I almost skipped class because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing you tonight,” he hissed. “Ryan, please don’t be mad,” I said calmly. Ryan’s anger was upsetting. I hated to see him like this. “How’s your boyfriend?” he snarled. “He isn’t my boyfriend.” No, he wasn’t—he was much more than that. He was truly my soul mate. I almost snickered at the thought of that phrase. “Then what is he?” “He’s just a friend, well sort of, if that even,” I lied horribly. “What does that mean?” “It means that he likes me, but I don’t feel the same way as he does.”
