Mess To Be Made

54

"You okay?" Lindsay asked, concern riddled in her bright blue eyes as she stared back at me from the passenger seat of Rachel's car.

I let out a harsh, humorless laugh before responding honestly, "No."

"Aw," Rachel drawled, not turning around in her seat. I could see she was preoccupied with her phone. Likely texting Liam. "Trouble in paradise?"

Her voice was taunting and light and I wished I could match it. I wished I could say we were fighting over something stupid, like how he hated my driving. Or how I despised his need to always finish a song—God forbid we skip, even if there was only three seconds left. He always had to end the song.

"He ended it."

Rachel mirrored Lindsay, turning to face me from the driver's seat. Her phone hung on her fingertips now like a piece of useless cloth.

"Wait what?" Lindsay asked quietly.

"He ended—" I tried again, moisture cumulating at the corner of my eye. "We're done."

Before I could fully blink, Lindsay had climbed over the console, slithering her way into the backseat. Rachel threw her phone into the now vacant passenger seat, her full attention on me.

"What happened," Lindsay said, her voice kind and soft as she expertly hooked her arm in mine for comfort.

"I fucked up," I admitted, my voice choking out the words before the tears spilled over.

I sobbed. Lindsay held me. Rachel rubbed my arm.

It was weird.

This wasn't us. Lindsay was the crier. I was the comforter. Rachel was the realist. Those were our roles. They'd never had to deal with me like this before. I'm pretty sure Rachel had never seen me cry.

Yet here they were. Without question.

"Linds," I murmured into her shoulder after the warning bell rang. Rachel had left because she couldn't be late to her first period History class again.

"What?" Lindsay asked gently, one of her hands tightening around my shoulder while the other brushed a strand of blonde hair off my face.

"I get it," I whispered.

"Get what?"

"Heartbreak."

Lindsay's chest sunk, bringing my body with it.

"I'm sorry if I never—"

"Al," Lindsay cut me off and I could hear the sad smile in her voice. "Come on. I've never actually been in love. You know that. I just want to be in love."

She cuddled me closer to her.

"I know what it's like to be upset. To feel alone. And rejected. And sad. And angry. And tired. I know how it feels to be hurt by someone I want to love. It's fucking awful. But I've never actually been in love. So I can't even imagine how it would feel—"

"I'm not in—"

"Shut up." Lindsay let out a laugh. "I know you're upset, but I'm not letting that one slide just to appease your conscience. You're in love with him, Allison."

As if I hadn't cried enough in the past twenty-four hours, the tears rolled out of me like waves from a hurricane.

I felt Lindsay's cheek rest against the top of my head. "Fight for him."