I walk back to the frat house in a daze. How can I take off my mask and crush it, ending these petty games once and for all?
I can tell her I’ve loved her since the moment I heard her voice for the first time. How I told myself over and over again that I was only a sappy teenager, but these last few weeks with her have taught me that I was only deluding myself.
She's it for me. When I'm with her, the voices of doubt in my mind are hushed and the world lights up with infinite possibility.
If she knows the full truth, I’ll never be able to hide from her again. She’ll see my attempts to protect my weak, pathetic heart for what they really are.
A game.
But how can I get her to really hear me? How can I make her believe what I'm saying is the full truth?
I stop under an oak tree. Its brown and gold leaves fill me with images of Amy's eyes. If I could get those eyes to drop the wall of indifference—to really listen—I might have a chance.
What if I humbled myself by admitting my most embarrassing secrets in front of the whole campus? The thought makes my skin grow hot and cold at the same time. How fucking humiliating to tell thousands of people that I turned down UCLA to follow Amy to Pacific Crest.
But is it worth it?
One hundred percent yes. It is.
I could write it all out, outlining every detail. Even the fact that I periodically go through her Instagram and save my favorite photos. I keep them in a private folder and look through them when my heart aches for her.
An almost hysterical laugh rises, but I stifle it in my throat. My God, I’m such a romantic sap.
I fish out my phone to pull up my notes app and I see an email notification. It's from the director of the game, and the back of my neck prickles.
What is this about?
The first line is enough to make me want to throw my phone.
Amelia Harrington has withdrawn from the competition and will not be participating in the closing ceremony.
"Fuck," I shout, drawing the attention of a student walking along the path next to me.
What greater sign that she's done with me? The closing ceremony is in two days. She was so close to winning that ten-grand scholarship. Then again, maybe she assumed I wouldn't give it to her after all the nasty things I said to her this morning.
I'll make sure she gets it. I'll tell the director that either they offer the scholarship to Amy, or I won't show up for the closing ceremony. All of the game's biggest sponsors will be attending. There's no way in hell they'll risk me not being there.
And I'll make my confession in front of thousands of people. I'll explain to the whole campus why Amy is my pick and no one else.
I've loved her for years, and I'll do anything to prove it to her. Even if it means humiliating myself—talking about these big, scary feelings—in front of the whole university.
I pull up my notes app with renewed determination. Time to start listing every embarrassing thing I've done for the love of Amelia Harrington.
This might take a while.
Amy
I take a sip of tea, nerves prickling my skin. Cody invited me to the campus coffee shop because he has something to tell me. My first thought was that he’s going to confess that he has feelings for me, and my cowardly heart begged me to fob him off for a few days. To wait until the game is officially over. I’m too raw right now to deal with the pain of rejecting him.
But I couldn’t do it. Courage is a choice we make for the people we love. I owe this to Cody after years of behaving selfishly. I let him into my heart because he posed no threat to it.
He looks up from his coffee cup, his jaw hardening. “I told Tristan about your revenge plan.”
I jerk back, my head growing fuzzy. That’s the last thing I expected him to say, and strangely, it’s not as unsettling as it would have been a few weeks ago.
At least one of us is mature enough to tell the truth.
Tristan will probably be done with me for good after this. A stab pierces into my heart. It’s so intense I fight the urge to hunch forward. But don’t I deserve this pain? He finally knows the full extent of my cowardice.
