He scowled at himself in the mirror as the icy water ran down his face. He needed to snap himself out of it. But he soon found himself thinking about her again.

“Get a grip,” he said to himself. “You do not like her, it’s just a phase. You’ll get over it.” But he then saw the smile he adored invading his mind again.

His fist stung as it hit the surface of his sink. He muttered, “G---------,” as he finally gave in, and admitted to himself that he had some degree of feelings for her. And there was no way to know how she felt about him…. unless he told her.

“No,” he told himself as he left his bathroom. “It’d ruin everything we have worked so hard to do. Our friendship would be over.” He gave up trying not to think about her and walked slowly to his bed, wishing he had more time to think and clear his mind. He lowered himself onto his bed with a deep sigh, and picked up his phone.

He had one text, and it was from her.

'I’m all alone' She had said.

'Me too' He replied

'I don’t like being alone' She said just moments later

'Maybe we could be alone together, that way it is less lonely, I guess.' He hoped with everything he had that she would understand what he meant, what his implications were.

But as the minutes wore by, he felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment. The corners of his lips were tugged downward when he finally came to terms that she was gone.