Chapter 3: Aftermath and Isolation

But today, it was as if he poured a bucket of ice water over me and woke me up.

My cheeks tingled with embarrassment. My ears rang. For the first time, I realized—maybe I really didn’t mean anything to him.

So, it turned out, I was never the exception.

I’d always hoped, stupidly, that maybe he’d see past everything and think I was special. I guess that was just a fantasy, something only a girl like me would believe.

Before the bell rang, Jason rubbed his brow and left the classroom.

He didn’t say anything else. Just slung his backpack over his shoulder, avoiding my eyes, and slipped out the door while the room buzzed behind him.

The class president dragged a chair over, sat beside me, and tried to comfort me.

I barely heard her footsteps over the pounding in my ears. She perched on the edge of her seat, an awkward smile plastered on her face.

"Don't be upset, Emily. Jason probably didn't mean what he said. And you can't really blame him, right? You know you... Isn't this just biting the hand that feeds you? He's always so nice to you. Even if you like him, you shouldn't have confessed... Now you've really disgusted him..."

Her words tumbled out, half-reassurance, half-accusation. I could feel my cheeks burning all over again.

To my horror, I realized I actually agreed with the class president. I could only nod and say softly, "I didn't know my place. When Jason comes back, I'll apologize to him."

The words came out so small, I wasn’t sure she heard me. But she nodded, satisfied, like a teacher patting a student on the head for the right answer.

The class president gave my shoulder an awkward squeeze, like she didn’t know what else to do. "Yes, just apologize and it'll be over. Actually, you're pretty cute—fair and round, like a marshmallow."

Her hand was soft, but the words felt sharp. I forced a little smile, just to get her to stop talking.

I automatically tuned out her last attempt at comfort and forced a faint smile.

Her voice faded into the background, replaced by the static of my own thoughts. I wanted to curl up under my desk and never come out.