Young Writers Society

IMPORTANT!! Before you read this, I will warn you there are some mentions of serious topics in here, some swears, and a bunch of edgy teen emotions. You have been warned. Please enjoy.

- The Beginning -

It was late. Far too late for me to be up, awake, anxiously awaiting for something to happen. Nervously, I opened up my messages, to see if there was anything from Rachel.

Nothing.

Goddamn it, why did I have to have that dream? We were in Seattle with the Travel Club, and sitting on the bus. For a moment, I became lucid. I knew I was going to wake up soon, so I did the only thing a pan girl could do to her best friend and crush. I kissed her.

I didn't know what I was thinking. I thought about it for days, only admitted it to a close friend of mine, Echo, and kept it a secret for exactly two weeks.

Now, I was waiting. Echo had told me some good news - Rachel liked me back! Of course, I couldn't trust her, but I had high hopes. I couldn't get the thought out of my head as I reread our past messages. She likes me. She likes me. I like her too. She likes me.

Suddenly, there was a blip.

"Should I wear a dress to the dance tonight?"

It was Rachel. The message came in late - two hours late, in fact. It must've sent when she got home, after the dance.

"You do you," I responded, shaking. Was she going to tell me?

The "message read" bar slid down to the bottom. Holy shit. She'd read it.

"Well then. You're too late," she typed, "the dance is over."

"Oh."

"Also, uummm..." I could practically hear her say it. Her voice rang in my head. "Echo told me I needed to talk to you."

"Hmm?"

"I'm really awkward about these things. But..."

Then, another blip. A riddle, names of characters we liked from our fandoms. She told me to look for a certain letter in each name. Of course, I figured it out.

"I L O V E Y O U," I sent, half laughing in my seat. I was quivering sitting at the computer. There was a silence. No blips.

"Don't worry. I love you too," I continued.

- The Amusement Park -

"You wanna go on the Air Lift?" Rachel asked me, and I nodded.

"Yes, let's!"

It had been a month since we'd gotten together. A few days before, I'd sent her a poem riddle that, if you looked at it a certain way, spelled out, "I want to hold your hand." There were even stanza breaks as spaces! I was pretty proud of myself. When she replied with a "Just you wait till the field trip," I was ecstatic. She figured it out!

We got in line for the Air Lift - one of those things you'd see at ski slopes, but smaller and less industrial - and talked about Welcome Home (my series), and C.A., Rachel's take on fanfiction. Somehow, from there, we started talking about nachos, and she told me, "If we're still together when we're older -"

That was the part where my heart leapt in my chest.

"- then I'll be making nachos all the time. All day, every day."

We laughed at that. Then she stopped.

"I realize now how high this goes up."

"Huh?"

"I don't do heights."

"Oh, right. We're not gonna fall," I assured her. "Besides, you've got me. What could go wrong?"

Finally, the line was short, and it was our turn to get on the lift. We slung our bags over the "safe line", and a worker brought them nearer to the wall. The lift approached behind us, and we sat down once it was close enough. Another worker quickly ensured that everything was tight, and we were off.

It was gorgeous, for one. Rachel and I could see practically halfway across the park (or so it seemed. I will admit, the place was huge), and I felt free. Rachel, on the other hand, seemed absent.

"You okay?"

"Anxious," she replied simply. Trying to be a good girlfriend, I leaned up against her (y'know, how couples do) and took her hand.

"It's okay," I told her. "We're not gonna fall."

It's okay. We're not gonna fall.

It's okay. We're not gonna fall.

It's okay.

- The Promise She Made That Day -

"I'll kiss you one day."

- The Graduation Dance -

I walked in the door, not knowing what to expect, but what I got was beautiful. Stars seemingly everywhere, lights, blue and gold - a Time Lady's dream. Well, a human begging to be a Time Lady, at least.

I spotted her hanging out with her friends and we all hung out for a bit. A couple of my friends found me and we talked for a little bit, but I felt like I pushed them away. I wanted to dance with Rachel. Desperately. Perhaps, I thought, I could fulfill her promise. Maybe we could finally have a moment.

It was five days after the field trip, so maybe I was a little bit... optimistic, but I was gonna die trying.

I soon learned that no matter how inviting her friends were, they were very tightly woven, and if I couldn't do something with them, they didn't care. The leader of the group soon started dancing with Rachel, and me, not knowing what to do, left the gym for the bathroom.

I waited until people left before I started to cry. I was jealous. Overbearingly jealous. I knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt me (at least, not on purpose) but it felt like someone had pierced a dagger through my heart and through my brain.

So there I was, sobbing, in my flats, on the gross middle school bathroom floor, and a friend of mine walked in. Xander. They knocked on the door.

"Erin? Is that you?"

"Y-yes." I sniffled.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." I opened the door and there they were, in their white shirt and rainbow suspenders.

"Okay, what happened?"

I told them everything, from Rachel and I getting together and how she started dancing with someone else. We talked for a while, about our pride for who we are and how we fit onto the LBQT+ spectrum, and eventually, they told me that even if Rachel and I split, we would still be friends - that bond that formed so long ago from kindred souls would never break.

Eventually, I built up enough confidence - just from talking with them - to go back out there. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a chance to dance with her until the cheesy slow dance started to play. It was one by Ed Sheeran, I was sure ("When your legs don't work like they used to before; and I can't sweep you off of your feet..."), and, after seeing all the couples start to dance, she held out her hand and we began to dance.

What a moment! I swear, I saw stars reflected in her eyes, and I could practically sing! My heart was racing faster than ever. The whole world seemed to slow.

Then, it was over.

She laughed and we split. Soon, the slow dance was over, and she was back to dancing with the leader of her tightly-knit squad. I tried to rely on the characters inside my head, imagining them here with me, encouraging me to get back out there and go after her, to try and grab a dance with her again, but nothing worked. I was defeated.

Needless to say, I hid in the bathroom again, until she found me in the corner.

"Erin? I was wondering where you where."

"Hiding."

"Too many people?"

I choked. She did realize I was hurt over the dancing, right? Of course not.

"Y-yeah. That and I'm really fucking tired and anxious."

"Same. Come on. You've gotta come back out there sometime."

I don't know how long it took, but it took a while of encouragement, a hug, and the faint echoes of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" to get me pumped again.

Of course, she started dancing without me again, and I just held out until it was over.

I cried so much that night. So. Fucking. Much. I even thought about something crazy. In a bad way sort of crazy. Of course, I took no action, but...

I had to convince myself that scissors were for paper.

- Graduation -

She and I didn't talk.

- The Graduation Party -

I was waiting all day for her and her stepsister, Kristie, to arrive. Finally, after what seemed like hours after my family started to trickle in for the graduation party, they were here. Kristie, of course, took to downstairs with my drawing tablet and Krita, the only art program that I had, leaving me and Rachel to hang out.

We went outside and talked, came back inside after my annoying cousins decided they wanted to hang out with the "cool kids," and did the one marker challenge. It was fun. We talked for a while, ate, had cake, sat through "Happy Gradu-Birthday," and generally had a good time.

In my opinion, at least.

After she and Kristie left, I had no idea what she thought. She just kinda... was there. Absent, like when we were on the Air Lift. Something was different about her.

I was upset. Of course. I felt like a bad host, but worse, a bad girlfriend. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, because I hadn't come out to anyone in my family yet, and I felt so trapped.

Why did I ever expect to kiss her? Why did I ever want to kiss her?

Why did I have to fall in love with her?

But I did. And there was no going back.

- The Pizza Pool Party Potluck -

It was almost like she was absent again. Present around the others, but absent around me. I felt so bad. I'd been a bad person around her - I knew it in the core of my being. I could practically feel my demons coiling themselves around my neck every moment I spent with her. What if I say the wrong thing? I don't want to ruin this, I caught myself thinking.

You're too late, darling, my demons hissed, you screwed it up again. Oh what a shame. We were rooting for you, for a minute.

I wanted to cry so much. I didn't know what to do. I was annoying, overly quirky, and yelped a lot (because, hey, I was getting splashed with water with my eyes closed. I'm bad at Marco Polo). I was waaay too overbearing for people to actually realize I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I was stressed. Ever since I realized that she might not like me anymore, I could hardly sleep at night without the passing thought of, "she hates you now."

I'd dreamt about the moment when she told me she liked me. Dream upon dream upon dream. I was waiting for her to say it because I didn't know how to. And now, in a relationship, not knowing what to do? Shame on you, Frost. You don't have a clue about anything.

Sure, I had a good time with my friends and the people I knew, but Rachel? Rachel worried me.

But no matter what happens, I love her. Nothing could ever stop me from loving her.

She might not love me back anymore.

A/N ; All of this happened to me. This was a censored personal narrative - real people with real actions, but no real names, places, or any of that jazz was given out. All of this is true. I am panromantic.

And I'm worried she doesn't love me anymore.