"Wait, what?" Did he just say what I think he said? That he as trying to make me jealous? I don't know whether to be angry or pleased, but the feelings are all jumbled into one. The anger comes out, and it comes out in a rage I didn't even know I had. "You did this to me just to make me jealous? Who would do that! I can't even believe you Thomas! You know I was crying all day when I saw you two in the window! I literally wanted to-" I cut myself off, realizing what was about to come out of my mouth. "You wanted to?" He asks, leaning up in his seat. "Nothing, just get out of my house." I stand up from the table and slam my chair into the table, pushing it in. "Please, I realize it was wrong. I already told Erika-" "no, Thomas. Just get out." I walk to the front door, swinging it open and then pointing out the door, showing Thomas the way out. As he stands from his chair and heads for the door, he looks up at me with sadness in his eyes, it's a pure sadness, not the kind where you want someone to feel bad for you. His gaze sends a chill through my body, making me wonder why I ever invited him into the house in the first place. I shut the door behind Thomas, and run up to my room, forgetting all about my bowl of cereal. As I lay in my bed, my thoughts are jumbled inside my head, and I know only one thing for sure: that Thomas and I still won't talk to each other, no matter what reason he had to ask Erika out. I lay my head on my pillow and close my eyes, I try to imagine what my future is going to hold. Tears are nowhere to be found on my face, nor are there any forming in my swelled, red eyes. The burning sensation at this point is from the dryness of my eyes, and I know that there is no more reason to cry than there is to forgive Erika. My phone vibrates, and as I lift my head up to receive my phone, I realize who the message is from and I set the phone back down onto the night stand. (Thomas: please, y/n...) I don't understand why he's still texting me, he doesn't understand how badly I want to just stop talking to him: period. My phone vibrates again, and this time the message surprises me. (Thomas: listen, I have to tell you something. Are you going to listen?) I realize that I picked my phone up and began to type before I could even stop myself. By the time I could even manage to stop myself, I realized I already pressed the send button. (Me: what is it Thomas? You have one text message, that's it.) I quickly lay my phone back onto the stand, trying to figure out why the sudden urge to text Thomas came over me. My phone vibrates for the last time, and I receive the device from the night stand, setting it on my chest, trying to calm myself before I read it. I pick the device up with both hands, then slowly unlock my phone. As I read the message, a thousand butterflies soar through my stomach, creating a sudden urge to throw up and smile at the same time.
