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I've always known trust is so hard to give, and so easy to break

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I've always known trust is so hard to give, and so easy to break. But what happens when that trust never recovers? When I have none left to give? Is that when I begin to give up?

I can remember when Marley gave up. Or at least, when I noticed she had. A slow decline most would call it. It started off as small things. Pale complection, dull eyes. I would ask her if she was alright, she would lie and tell me she was. I had learned that from her. Lie when they ask, lie until you mean it. Then Marley stopped coming to school. She had been in her last year. She always wanted to be a nurse. She would have been an amazing nurse.

It really hit rock bottom when I saw her cry for the first time. In all my years of knowing my sweet Marley, she had never shed a tear. It was hard to believe seeing how hard her life was and how many reasons she would have to cry, but now I believe she had just spared me until then.

Sometimes I'm glad she did. Seeing my lifeline breakdown hurt so much more than I could have imagined. It was a good two months of just hollow submission after that. She barely spoke and when she did you could hear in her voice how clearly she had given up. Given in. Decided she was done before it was over. But then he came along. Those brown eyes that twinkled with danger and charm. He made everything better for Marley. When he came into the picture, her smile came back. Her cheeks turned rosey and her eyes lit up. I thought she was back. I thought I had my best friend back.

But now I see, I didn't. Because she was still broken even when he wrapped her in love. And she trusted him. God, she had trusted him so easily. She had given up so long before that she simply would hand over what little she had left, and prayed he wouldn't break it. I didn't see at the time but that was her downfall. Trust. In him, or anyone else.

And I was determined not to make the same mistake. I had been talking myself up all day long. I had been trying to find as much resilience and confidence as I could inside my meager, fearful soul. I had exactly 16 minutes until I would meet Brayden in Art club. 16 minutes until I would be forced to confront him and all the hatred I harboured for him. Or all that I should, anyway. I wasn't sure how I felt. Panicky as always, but there was something else too. Something sadder than I was used to. Heavier, perhaps. I was eager to, in a cautious way.

I was anxious to talk to him. I wasn't sure what I was looking for in this conversation. I knew he was looking for closure of some sort. I suppose I was looking for answers. Truths amongst lies. All day I had been thinking about what I would say to him, and how I would say it. Mr.Fitz told me this morning that he would be sending us off in pairs to do some photography work around the school grounds. That meant me and Brayden would be alone. That meant there was no excuse to avoid all of this. Tyler had agreed almost immediately when I asked him about Art club last night at dinner.

He had launched into some speech about the importance of extracurriculars, and being social and a whole bunch of other stuff I didn't listen too after I got my yes. After I heard that simple word of agreement, my mind had spiraled into an unruly panic about what that meant. It was now the very end of last period, which today was History. I had been spaced out most of the class, and it wasn't until I felt someone poke my arm that I realized we had moved on to independent work.

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