**A/N: Firstly, I gravely apologise for the late update. Secondly, it's one big-ass chapter, probably the biggest I've written so far. So hope you enjoy!**
After running around the entire school for ten minutes, I finally spot him sitting in the library, flipping through a small fat book. I walk up to him and pull up a chair on the opposite side of the table. On seeing I still haven't attracted his attention, I snatch the book away from his hands and chuck it across the table.
He looks up, puzzled, as I interrupt his train of thought.
"When exactly were you planning to tell me?" I ask him curtly.
"What are you talking about?"
"Cut the crap!" I feel rage bubbling up in me, "You know fairly well what I'm talking about! What, were you just waiting for me to fatally wound myself in the middle of the night so that you could sing me my special song on the ambulance ride?"
For a split moment, his eyes widen ever so slightly, before he breaks away eye contact.
"Oh my God," I breathe, "It really was you."
"Sarah," he sighs, "I – I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" I say, forgetting to keep my voice low, "What the fuck were you thinking?!"
The librarian sternly clears her throat and we look up to see her murderous glare resting on us from behind the counter. A few heads turn towards us with looks of annoyance.
"We should talk outside," Jake mutters, nodding an apology to the librarian. I get up, sling my bag around my shoulder and follow him outside.
We take the exit to the deserted parking lot outside the campus. Once we're outside, I turn to face him.
"Look, I can explain." He says.
"Go ahead."
"What I said," Jake pauses, "about loving you. That wasn't a lie." I feel my insides flip. He continues, "In fact, nothing was a lie, except my identity."
I shake my head, "I don't understand. Why would you lie about your identity?"
"I've loved you since sixth grade, Sarah. I still do. I can't help it. I couldn't get myself to tell you because I was afraid I would lose you as a friend too. But whenever I tried to give you a hint, you always best friend-zoned me. When I asked you out last year, you thought I was kidding with you. Have you ever thought about my feelings? How do you think I feel when you tell me you love me like a brother?"
"You are my friend, Jake," my voice quivers, "My best friend."
"Towards the end, I wasn't even a friend, Sarah; I was your punching bag. You vented out all your emotions on me. You talked to me just to tell me about your problems and didn't give a shit about mine. But I didn't leave your side, not for once. I was always there when you needed me, be it in school, or be it to the hospital in the middle of the night." He pauses and looks me in the eye, "I care for you so much. And I know you care for me too. I just wanted you to realise that."
I open my mouth to say something, but realise I'm lost for words.
"Somewhere, I couldn't stop believing that you love me too," He sounds frustrated, "I could have never made you realise that if I texted you as myself. You liked Dave, so I thought..." his voice trails away and he lowers his eyes.
"You thought that it would be easier to make me fall for you that way." I finish. "You thought if you texted pretending to be someone else, it would make things easier?"
He doesn't say anything. There's a hint of sadness in his eyes.
"Seriously? Well, that's a pathetic move, don't you think?"
He fixes me with a shrewd look, "Is this coming from the girl who texted back, pretending to be Caroline?"
I pause at his sharp words.
He continues, "I thought I'd use her for convenience; Dave would not have your number, would he? A part of me was sure you'd play along. I know you. I know how reckless and desperate you are. And when you agreed, I knew it was all going to get complicated. But tell me something, why did you agree in the first place?"
"What do you mean?" I try to avoid eye-contact.
"You knew that Dave wouldn't know it was you, but you still kept hoping that he would fall for you, didn't you? That feeling, Sarah, is what I'm talking about. You weren't Caroline and I wasn't Dave. So does that mean that none of what we had was real?"
I close my eyes and run a hand through my hair. "You were playing a game with me, Jake." I say.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. But I need you to know that I really love you."
"It's a lot to take in," I say, kneading my forehead.
"You're selfish, you know that?"
I look up at him, "What?"
I had never seen that look in his eyes before. It was anger, pain and disappointment – all blended in a whirlpool.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself. You don't think about anyone but yourself. You're mindless and shallow and futile. You think you're the centre of the universe, but guess what? You aren't. You're not the only one to make mistakes."
I gulp the spite I was about to throw at him. I realise he's right.
I look away. "You're right. I am selfish."
He shakes his head and sighs, "Oh God, I didn't mean to say that. Look, I understand if you don't love me. But please don't be mad at me. You're my friend, and I don't want to lose you."
"Well, you just did." I say, yanking my hand out of his grip, "I sucked at being a friend anyway, didn't I?"
"Sarah, please –"
I turn away and walk as fast as I can till I reach my car, breathless. I'm thankful he didn't follow me. I get into the warmth of the car and bury my head in my hands. I can already feel the wetness crawling up in my eyes. Come on, Sarah, don't cry.
Jake loves me.
Jake loves me?
But he's my best friend! How the hell can he love me? Oh God, I should have known. When he was reading me that crappy love poem, he wasn't rehearsing for his date. Maybe if he just told me, all of this wouldn't have happened. I would have said 'no' and everything would be alright between us.
Or would it have?
Either way, he had to get hurt.
But right now, the most outrageous thing is, I can't deny that what we had virtually wasn't real. I can't deny that I have feelings for the guy I thought I was texting with. I can't deny thinking that I was in love with my secret admirer.
In all these years, have I actually ever tried to know Jake for the person he is? Have I ever looked at his eyes and tried to read his mind? Have I ever wanted to know about his life, his stories and his dreams?
Geez, I am a selfish bitch and I don't think about anyone but myself.
Now at wrecked moments like these, I usually run to Jake to shower him with my problems, but thinking about it right now makes me feel yet more selfish.
I wipe my eyes and pull out my phone. I call Ellie.
"Hello?" Her bubbly voice answers.
"Hi, it's Sarah."
"Hey, what's up?"
"It's Jake! The mystery guy. Can you believe it?"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, geez...It's driving me crazy! My best friend of all people! How did he manage to do that? I feel like I'd been walking around in a blindfold all this time. I feel so betrayed."
"I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you, Sarah."
I'm surprised at her trying to defend him, but then something clicks inside my head.
I speak slowly, "You knew about this, didn't you?"
She doesn't even try to lie, "Yes. Look, when he told me he loves you, I –"
"You fucking knew? And this whole time, you were pretending?" I scream into my phone.
"Sarah, please don't be mad – "
I hang up, letting out a grunt-like yell I often do in times of utter frustration.
Both of my best friends have been playing with me all this time. That does it.
I insert the key in the ignition and pull away from the parking lot. I can think of only one place I can go to.