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Oh yeah, probably because I have a broken heart.
I think that's what this is.
My chest hurts. My heart hurts. My eyes hurt from the tears that wouldn't stop falling last night. Everything feels numb and heavy. Like someone is sitting on my chest. Or trying to drown me.
"Jenny!" Mom screeches.
I roll over and swipe the screen on my phone. The alarm stops blaring and Mom stops yelling.
Reluctantly, I force myself out of bed and head to the bathroom across the hall. I turn on the shower. Undress. Stand under the hot water. Let a few more tears fall. Shampoo. Shave. Conditioner. Dry myself off. Pick out jeans and a sweater. Blow dry my hair. Attempt to slap on some make-up. Deodorant. Grab a granola bar. Slip my backpack over my shoulder. Kiss Mom goodbye. Head outside.
I'm frighteningly aware I'm just going through the motions.
He's standing by his jeep when a fresh wave of heartbreak hits me. It's not fair how handsome he is. Or that he'll never be mine. I'll never feel his rough, calloused hands caressing my bare skin again. Or his plush lips molding imperfectly to mine. Pretty sure that kiss was his first. The first one he remembers, anyway. He really had no idea what he was doing. But I still liked it. Because it was Matt.
My Matt.
No, not your Matt. Someone else's…someday...
I walk towards him slowly, taking in as much of him as I can. Before he leaves for college and these morning car rides are swallowed up, a forgotten memory in the not-so-distant future.
His dark wash jeans hug his hips and the white long-sleeve shirt that stretches just enough over his muscled chest to make out the peaks and valleys of his pecs. The ones he rubs all over me when we're at the gym playing basketball. The ones I daydream about in the middle of Statistics.
Matt notices me staring at him and does a goofy, awkward wave. I shake my head, mumble, let's get this over with under my breath, and hurry over to the boy who doesn't want me. Romantically. Ever.
"Morning," Matt chirps as I slide into the passenger seat and buckle my seatbelt.
"Morning," I respond, trying hard not to look at him as we pull out of the driveway.
Maybe if I just stare straight ahead, the aching pain in my chest won't hurt as much.
"I have to run some errands after school," Matt tells me as he fiddles with the radio on the dash.
I close my eyes and sink into the seat beside him, praying the four-minute ride is over soon. The tension between us is thick and unyielding. "I'll see if Fallon can give me a ride home."
"No," Matt shakes his head. "I meant I have to run some errands, but I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat after?"
My heart clenches in my chest. "I'm busy tonight."
Matt looks slightly dejected but recovers quickly. "You have a hot date or something?"
"Or something," I mutter in response.
"What does that mean?" he snaps. He hardly ever loses his cool and I'm even more uncomfortable by his anger than I was by his blatant rejection.
"Nothing," I swallow hard, trying to figure him out. He's always in a good mood. Why is he suddenly so...wishy-washy?
"You're seriously blowing me off because of Saturday?" he raises his voice a little, causing me to protectively cross my arms over my chest. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's more hurt about the whole situation than he's letting on.
I scrunch my forehead. "You're joking, right?"
Matt runs an exhausted hand through his brown hair. "I don't understand why you're being like this."
I shake my head, agitated. "You do realize that less than 48 hours ago you were touching me, right? With no shirt on. Here in this car. Then you kissed me, told me you didn't mean to and that you can't cross that line again. Come on, Matt. I'm confused and humiliated. No one has ever seen me with my shirt off before. That was...it was too much. I just need a little bit of space, OK?" And I'm in love with you. And it freaking hurts that you don't feel the same way.
"We can't even hang out now?" His grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turn white. "Can't even get food together?"
I want to tell him that we can. That we can just forget everything and go back to the way things were. But the words don't leave my mouth because the sharp pain in my chest is a constant reminder that it's not that simple.
