The Problem with Forever

“Can we get together after school?” he asked as the bell rang. “For a bit?”

“Yes. Of course,” I said, smiling even though it wasn’t real.

The dread I felt grew throughout class, and I only distantly listened to the upcoming speech schedule Mr. Santos laid out. I would have to give mine during lunch next Tuesday. Rider would do his on Wednesday.

I still hadn’t finished my speech.

But I wasn’t really focused on the example speeches Mr. Santos was giving. I was too busy noticing the fact that Rider didn’t look me in the eye. Not when he sat down. Not when he looked over at me and not once during the class.

When the bell finally rang, I jumped in my seat, startled. I ordered myself to chill out as I packed up my bag. Rider waited at my desk, his gaze fixed on the front of the room.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice oddly flat.

My stomach twisted as I nodded, and I only managed a half-hearted wave to Keira on the way out. We didn’t speak until we were outside, walking side by side under the overcast skies.

“Rosa and Carl won’t be home for a while,” I said, twisting my fingers around my keys. “You want to go hang out there?”

His brows furrowed and for a moment I thought he was going to say no. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

We didn’t talk on the drive and my nerves were stretched thin by the time we

headed inside. I dropped my bag by the steps. “Um, do you want anything to drink?” I asked, walking toward the living room.

“Nah.” He followed slowly, stopping by the china cabinet to check out the soap carvings. “I’m good.”

I dropped my keys on the island and went to the fridge, grabbing myself a Coke. A tremor coursed through my arms as I headed back to the living room. I sat on the couch and started to reach for the remote. “We could watch a movie or—”

“Actually, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.” I toyed with the tab of my soda. “Okay.”

He walked around the coffee table and sat on the couch—on the third cushion, putting an entire cushion between us. My fingers stilled on the tab. “I don’t know how to say this,” he said,

resting his elbows on his knees. He slowly shook his head. “I really care about you, Mallory. I really do.”

Oh, God.

I put the soda on the end table before I dropped it. “I really care about you. I...I love you, Rider.”

His jaw flexed. “Yesterday was a mistake.”

My lips parted on a sharp inhale. I didn’t hear him right. There was no way I heard him right.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy what...what we did. I do—I did, but this can’t go on. We can’t get together. Not like this,” he said in that same flat tone. “I’m sorry.”

For several moments all I could do was stare at him. I tried to process what he was saying, but the pounding blood in my head made it difficult. “I...I don’t understand.”

“We can’t be together,” he repeated, still not looking at me. A crack fissured my chest, and I sucked in air, because it felt so real, a line of fiery pain. “We can be friends, but that’s...that’s all.”

“I don’t want to be just friends with you,” I blurted out as I jerked forward. “You said you loved me. Just yesterday.” My voice caught as the knot expanded in my throat. “Like a little over twenty-four hours ago. I don’t understand.”

He placed his palm to his forehead. “I do love you.”

“Then why are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” I put my hand on the couch, grounding myself, because it felt like it was moving. Like the entire world was trembling. “That doesn’t...make any sense.”

“I just can’t be with you. It’s over.”

Then the strangest thing happened. An odd, almost suffocating feeling of relief hit me. It was over. I could just go back to the way—