[6] my apologies to singing sunshine's sleepaway camp

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I lie on my bed, phone in hand, scrolling through Instagram

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I lie on my bed, phone in hand, scrolling through Instagram. I feel so empty, like all my organs have disappeared. Dramatic, I know, but I can't get Archer out of my head. When he hugged Kit. I can't stop thinking about it.
     
Stop it. I tell myself. You were just friends to begin with, this shouldn't bother you.

But it is. It is.

My thumb absently slides from photo to photo. It has a mind of its own right now.

I look at the people I'm following. Bree, Nikki, Kit, Tessa, Rach, and...Brandon. I'm following Brandon? I don't unfollow him, though. I don't want to hurt him more than I already have.

I look at Bree's account. Mostly just of her in the mirror. Then I look at Nikki's; a lot of pictures with her friends. Then I look at Kit's.

And my heart dares to stop.

The newest picture. It's a selfie of her and Archer. He's smiling widely. Kit is beside him, her arm around him and her face millimeters from his. She could turn to him and they'd be kissing. My stomach twists. At the bottom of the picture she wrote "Love him :)." My head aches.

I cross the hall into the bathroom and take a makeup remover wipe. I take off all my makeup. Now I know why I did this. I wanted to impress him. Because I like him.

I guess it's easier to admit when you know there's no chance.

When he walked into English, I thought he dressed like that because he wanted to impress me. No, he wanted to impress Kit. No, he doesn't like me. No, we're just friends. No.

I walk back into my room and take off my dress. I put on sweats and a baggy sweater.

That's me.

Then I flop on my bed.

How did it take them that quickly to...are they dating? Maybe I'm thinking about this too much. Maybe-

My phone rings. It's Archer.

I feel nauseous as I lay my phone down on my bed. It sounds like it's pleading with me, but the rings are the same sound as always. I listen to the rings of the rejected caller, trying to imagine Archer on his phone, FaceTiming me and wondering why I'm not picking up.

And I cry.

I've never felt this before. I've never felt like my heart is gone. Not breaking. Just gone. I cry into my blanket. Then I'm full on crying, mouth contorted and eyes squeezed shut as warm tears escape my eyes and cling onto my lashes, which is really annoying.

It takes me a few minutes to realize I shouldn't be crying. It really makes no sense.

I wipe my eyes and get up, leaving my phone.
             __________

The past few days of school have been hard. I've been intentionally ignoring Archer, running out of class before he can catch up, looking down at my sneakers when we pass in the hallway. I hate that I'm doing this, but I don't want to talk to him. This is the only alternative, I guess.

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