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ELIZABETHS POV- February 17th

All my life, I tried to be content with what I had. Ever since I was younger, I understood I just wasn't like  all the other kids. My parents were never around, and I struggled with being so anxious all the time. Looking around at everyone else, I always thought it looked so easy for them. To be confident, to make friends, to be social. Of it weren't for Ricky I'd have nobody. Seriously. When we were younger, he and Big Red would always skate around the street or play freeze tag in his backyard. So, Ricky would come knock on my door and ask me if I wanted to play too. At first I was too shy, but eventually I realized that it was actually easy to talk to him. I didn't feel scared or nervous around him the way I did most others.

I guess it felt like it was just the three of us for a while, but it never really was, because there was always Nini. Hanging around him was how I met her. He talked about her a lot. He told me he thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. His first crush. He talked about her so much that when I finally did meet her it felt like I already knew her. And being friends with her got me into theater, and that's how I became close with Ashlyn, and Carlos, and Kourtney, and everyone else.

When I met Nini, I was in awe. I mean, she had everything. I always wanted everything she had. Lead roles in the play. Two parents who love her. Ricky.

It makes me feel like shit to always compare myself to her, but here we are.

I dropped Ricky back off at his apartment nearly two hours ago and I literally can not stop thinking about him.

There's two sides of me going back and forth. 1– what's wrong with you? He has a girlfriend, who he's super in love with. 2– I need to just tell him. I can't keep this a secret anymore. I don't care what happens I should just tell him.

I don't know what to do. I can't take this anymore.

I get out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I lean forward on the counter so I'm face to face with myself in the mirror.

Go. Tell him.

I blink.

Go, just go. What's the worst that could happen?

Without even bothering to grab my coat, I run out to my car and start it and without thinking drive to Ricky's apartment.

When I arrive, I don't waste any time waiting in my car or on the doorstep so I don't lose my nerve. Instead I just knock.

I hear footsteps on the other side of the door, and when I realize I was actually going to do this, I felt my stomach turn.

The lock clicks, and I take a deep breath. The knob turns, and finally the door opens and—

"Liz?"

I look up, and when I see her there, it feels like I've fallen twelve feet off a brick wall and the winds been knocked out of me.

I stand there saying nothing for a minute, too long. Ricky walks up next to her in the doorway, looking confused. "Um, hey Ellie. What's up?"

Finally I can breathe again. "Um... nothing, sorry, I j-just wanted to... to... well I didn't know you were b-busy, so..."

Nini smiles. "I decided not to go back to YAC after all. I hated it there. And I missed my home." She glances over at Ricky as she says this, and I feel so lost. What am I doing here? Why did I think this was a good idea?

"Oh, that's... great. Um, sorry, I'm... I'm gonna go."

I hear them call back out to me, but I don't even care. I try to control myself so that I'm not running away like I want to, instead I wait until I'm out of their sight to sprint across the hall, down the stairs, and back to my car. Suddenly I regret not bringing a jacket.

As soon as I sit down and shut my door, a loud sob escapes my lips. I cover my mouth with my hand, because even though I'm most likely out of earshot, I don't want them to hear me. I drive off, and end up in an empty road, and I'm shaking because of how hard I'm crying and I just feel. So. Stupid.

I go back home, and struggle up the stairs back into my room. I curl up on my bed and hold my pillow tightly against me, crying into it. I cried so hard I felt sick. I don't hate Nini, and I don't hate Ricky. I only hate myself. Why can't I just be happy for them and move on?

𝘛𝘖𝘓𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘐𝘛  ⇢ r.bowen Where stories live. Discover now