I look up at the orange leaves that keep falling from the trees, the bitter wind seeping right through my jacket. The sun shines through the tall branches, but it’s still no warmth to it. The red and orange leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk pass the concrete, mind wandering a little. And with each step my mind goes back to the day before; the race and my twisted ankle. Silently I curse my clumsiness as I feel slight pain shoot up through my leg, but I learn to ignore it as I walk further. It wasn’t bad enough that I couldn’t walk on it, but I still couldn’t walk too far so I’d ended up being carried home by Tiffany as well, despite my protests.

It’s an early Monday morning and slowly I yawn, not really ready for the day but still trying to make the best of it. I look up to the blue sky, not a single cloud to be seen and not a single sound, except for the wind passing me by. Then I start to think of a specific smile and laugh, before I feel myself faintly smiling as well. Slowly I take my phone out of my pocket before typing a message, feeling the sudden need to write Tiffany something. Eagerly I type out something before clicking send, smiling a little for myself as I walk.

“Do you want to meet me by the entrance, or are you already inside the classroom?” I type simply before putting my phone back in my pocket. A while passes and I’m almost by the football field when I feel a buzz in my pocket, indicating a new message. Slowly I take out my phone to read Tiffany’s reply, feeling excited to finally see her again until…

“I’m sick.”

Nothing more or nothing less, and confused I look at the message. Tiffany seemed just fine the last time I saw her during the marathon, but she must have gotten a cold or something. I let my fingers type out a reply. “Well I hope you’ll get better soon Tiff! ^^ I’ll miss you though.” I type out in hopes of cheering her up, adding a small heart on the side. Tiffany always nags about how monotone my messages are, so I figure to be a little “expressive” for one.  I wait for a reply but it never comes, not even when I enter the classroom. I frown slightly but don’t think too much about it as class starts, and alone I start a new day.

**

The hallway is usually crowded after school, everyone wanting to go home at the end of the day. It takes about ten minutes before most of the students are out, but as I look down at my watch I notice that it’s probably nobody here now. My footsteps echo throughout the hall as I’m probably the only one here. I stayed behind in the library to finish my English essay, not really wanting to go home to a lonely apartment at all. I could visit Tiffany, but seeing that she didn’t reply I suppose she didn’t have the energy to.

Without much of care I type in the code to my locker and open it up, gathering necessary books and sheets, humming along to myself until I hear something fall down on the floor. Confused I look down towards my shoes until I spot a folded, white paper between them. Carefully I bend down to pick it up, my hands holding onto the corners as I study the folded paper. Silently I wonder what it is as I close my locker door, not remembering putting that one in there earlier today. Come to think of it I haven’t even been in my locker today.

Cautiously I turn to spot if anyone is around, but since I’m probably the last student I suppose no one is here. I lean my back on the multiple lockers before looking down at the paper again, slowly unfolding it until I can somehow straighten up the creases.

“Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

 Confused I look down at the message, wondering if I read the content right. “Don’t wait until it’s too late?” I slowly whisper to myself as I stand there, wondering what this could mean.  I must have stood there for a good minute or two when another pair of footsteps echoed throughout the hall. My eyes wander up from the paper and towards a shadow of a figure almost passing me by. But suddenly the person stops a couple of meters away from me and slowly I feel a little nervous.

By the posture and outfit it isn’t hard to see who it is, and as she turns around to look at me, I feel shivers down my spine due to the icy glare. The person doesn’t do anything for a while, just simply stares before taking a step towards me in her red heels.

“Well, well… It’s been a while loser,” Hyuna says with a certain tone to her voice, studying me up and down before taking another step. Soon enough she stands in front of me, hovering over me due to the height of her shoes. “So how does it feel?” she asks after simply looking at me, and confused I look up at her. What am I supposed to respond? I try to part my lips, but again nothing comes out.

“Oh I forgot, the loser can’t talk,” Hyuna sneers before tilting her head to the side, eyes widening a little in mockery. “Is it hard to be around people who aren’t your precious little girl toy?” she asks with a high pitched voice, probably to annoy me as she stands there.  “I still feel bad for Tiffany you know,” she begins while checking out her perfect manicured nails. “She could’ve been so popular, but she chose you, and on top of it all you’re dating!” she exclaims with fake surprise. “I always knew something was off about you two, but I didn’t think you would be that weird… Oh such pity,” Hyuna continues to press my buttons like that, waiting for a reaction of some sorts. Outside I stay stoic but inside I want to scream and make her stop, the heavy feeling in my chest back as my throat stings. I wanted to say something, but I still kept my lips shut, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

With my lack of response she lifts up her hand and my heart starts pumping again as I shut my eyes, waiting for an impact of some sorts. But instead I only get a cold, almost gentle touch beneath my chin. “What a shame, you could’ve been quite popular yourself if you knew how to socialize,” her voice sounds softer than before, but her words sting. “But you know?” she asks and I don’t reply. “Only the weak gets stepped on.”

Confused I open my eyes as I hear Hyuna laugh, but instead of a laugh with humor I hear nothing but mockery in it. And as she retracts her hand away from my face, I feel my hands get lighter and multiple thuds emit from the floor as my books are promptly pushed down.

Hyuna laughs again before turning away and walking away, but before she completely disappears from my sight I see her turn her head back around, giving me a long stare before finally speaking. “I’ll be waiting for the day she realizes how big of a loser you are and ends it with you. What you’re doing is sick, I tell you… sick.”

Her voice drips of disgust and venom, before she turns away with a sneer and finally exits the building. When the click of her heels disappears I finally let myself break down, my knees falling to the floor as I try to think clearly about what happened. I shouldn’t let her words affect me, but even then I still feel bad, very bad as I sit there with nothing but books and papers on the floor. Maybe Tiffany would’ve been better off without me? Honestly I do think so from time to time, how different things might have been for her if she didn’t know me. I suppose she wanted other people to hang around, but since she is now deemed as “the girl who’s with the loser”, I suppose no one wanted to be with her.

I sigh by that as I sit there alone, letting the time pass before I finally regain some strength to get up and collect my books. Then I slowly walk out of the school and head straight home, not bothering to look back.

**

The hours tick by and slowly I find myself thinking too much again. My head is heavy with thoughts as I stare up at my ceiling fan, lying awake. It’s probably midnight by now, and though I try to let sleep consume me, I simply can’t. Another fifteen minutes pass with nothing happening until a small buzz is heard from my night table. I turn away to see my phone lit up, a notification on the screen and slowly I grab my phone. My eyes squint together from the sudden light as I try to read the message with struggle.

“We need to talk.”

The message is from Tiffany, and for some reason something feels off as I read it. Silently I lay there for a while, wondering what I’m even supposed to say. My chest feels a little heavy again, but I try to ignore it as I try to come up with a response.

“Talk about what?” I answer after a while, and another minute passes without Tiffany replying. I feel the uneasiness inside of me as I sit there alone, a million questions running throughout my head. I’m about to reply, but my fingers don’t seem to move. Confused I just lie there until I sit up, still staring at my phone for a while. What does she even want to talk about? Without knowing what to type I opt for calling her, really wanting to know what’s going on because this is worrying me.

I let my thumb hover over the call button, debating if I should call her or not. It’s twelve and I suppose Tiffany won’t be so happy, but at the same time I just need to hear her speak for myself to really figure out what’s on her mind.

When I click on the call button, I place the phone next to my ear and wait for her to answer. The dial tone rings once, twice and even more until I’m about to hang up again. This was a stupid idea anyway; why would she pick up?

“Hello?” I hear a hoarse and tired voice answer me, and for a while I nearly jump in surprise because that did not sound like the usual happy Tiffany. I stay silent for a while, trying to part my lips but I stand still. “Hello?” I hear again and then I get back to my senses. “Tiff, what’s going on?” I manage to stutter out after a while, the feeling of talking still a little foreign. I’ve gotten better, but Tiffany is the only one I’m really comfortable talking to as of now.

I hear her sigh on the other line along with some rustling in the background, probably from movement. Even before she speaks I can feel my chest turn heavier again, my stomach forming knots as I sit there, wondering about what she’s going to say.

“You’re probably going to hate me,” Tiffany starts and again with a somewhat shaky voice, the time passing by before she continues. And with every second I feel my heart drop just a little because I knew this couldn’t be good. A heavy pang shoots throughout my chest when she finally continues again, and by her words I feel myself shatter a little more.

“I don't think I can do this.”