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Something cold was pressing against the back of my head. At first it felt good, but now it was hard and uncomfortable.

"Stop," I mumbled and opened my eyes. 

A boy with dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes was staring at me in confusion.

I glanced to my side and took in my surroundings. The mystery boy had me in his lap and was holding what I assumed to be an ice pack to my head.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"The ice. It hurts," I said.

"Oh," he removed the ice pack and set it on the ground beside us. "Are you okay? You were crying before you fell."

"Ya, I'm fine."

"I don't know that much about girls but I do know that usually when they say that they aren't fine."

I stayed silent. What did he expect me to do, spill my guts out to him? He was a stranger. And of course I wasn't fine, I probably never would be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

The truth was, I did want to talk about it, I wanted to scream and cry and I wanted someone to hold me and tell me it was okay, to tell me was okay.

So I did.

I told him everything.

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