You Belong With Me

Chapter 41 // Those Three Words

Hey, everyone! Just finished editing this chapter! Also, thanks so much for 1k readers!! That's insane to me. I appreciate each one of you and I hope you continue to read and enjoy this story!
Thanks again ❤️
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It was finally Tuesday night, the night before the football game.

I had practiced on my clarinet until my mouth was sore - meeting my band teacher's expectations, according to what he told us earlier today.

I felt comfortable with my part, so I finally decided to take a break and found myself grabbing a book that I had just started a few days ago.

I took out the small corner of scrap paper I used as a bookmark, before reading while on the edge of the bench that I kept by the window.

I suddenly noticed some movement in my peripheral vision, causing me to lift my head towards the window in front of me.

Unsurprisingly, I looked out and saw Logan, pacing as he talked on the phone, his brows furrowed as his face held an unusual, troubled expression.

It was weird seeing Logan without his glowing smile and carefree personality - although this wasn't the first time I noticed him lacking this.

Lately it seems whenever he's with Madison, this same look follows. But I've spent enough time with her - or at least the 'new Madison' - to know why.

The new Madison's hard to deal with, stirring up drama left and right, viewing herself higher than anyone below her pedestal, and very controlling.

I was able to hear bits and pieces of what Logan was saying through the glass due to his raised voice - something about him just joking, telling her to calm down?

That's when he lowered the phone, looking at it as if she hung up on him. I didn't see his finger press the hang up button, so I could only assume that was the case.

Looking at his defeated figure through the glass made my heart ache. I knew what it was like to be in a fight with Madison - she couldn't stand being wrong.

Even now, thinking back to middle school when we were practically glued at the hip, whenever we ran into a conflict, it was her who didn't want to settle, and me who let it slide.

I grabbed my notepad and marker which were laying beside me on the white stained bench, beginning to ask if he was okay.

As I held it up I noticed he was already looking at me, that crease in between his eyebrows deeper than I've ever seen before.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, taking a glance at my notebook before putting on a small smile, beginning to write his own response.

"Tired of drama." he held up as his face fell into a slight look of sarcasm, his lips barely lifting at the sides.

"Sorry :(" I wrote, not sure what else to say.

He looked away, shrugging as if to say 'it's fine' or 'whatever', but I knew he didn't mean it. I saw the way it slowly ate at him, draining his energy and happiness.

I didn't want him to feel this way, no matter how much he believed in Madison.

I couldn't just watch him suffer...I loved him.

I wondered if it would change his mind if he just knew.

With the adrenaline pumping through my veins just at the thought of telling him, I worked up every ounce of courage I had, moving my hand to form those exact words.

My nervousness built with every line and curve, as I ran through the possibilities.

"I love you."

I glanced back up as soon as I finished, before watching him unexpectedly glide the curtains closed, silently ending our conversation.

Immediately, a wave of dejection rushed over me, holding up my notepad anyway in ironic torment.

As if he could somehow see my black, ink-stained handwriting, spelling out the three words that would forever change our relationship.

Why was telling someone you loved them so hard to do?