YOU CAN'T BREAK ME

I was secure, unshakable. Making friends was pretty hard, but eventually, I stopped caring. I wondered why they didn’t like me.

In high school, things changed drastically when Grayson approached me. People suddenly knew my name, and I was hated even more. Everything I believed began to crush. The walls I built so high started to crack. I thought I wouldn’t need anyone’s attention...but I want his. My heart beat fast whenever he was near me.

But I knew he was out of my league. He was a star impossible to reach.

HIGH SCHOOL

“I can’t believe she actually thinks we’re her friends,” a familiar voice scoffed, dripping with disdain.

I was heading to class, walking past the girls’ bathroom when I heard their sharp and cruel voices.

“I know, right? It’s so pathetic. She’s just so... desperate. Always clinging to us like she has no one else.”

My heart tightened painfully. I stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Weren’t we friends? They said we were. But now I realized they had been pretending all along, feeding me lies that I eagerly swallowed because I wanted to believe that somehow...I belonged with them.

“Did you see the way she looked at Grayson today? Like she actually has a chance,” Cresilda snickered.

Abe scoffed. “She can dream. But you know what, I can tell that she’s really dense, I mean why can’t she see through our lies? It has been a month since I keep pretending.”

“Your fault. You approached her.” Cresilda laughed. “I would never.”

“I thought she was Grayson’s friend. He smiled at her like they were very close, yet she stood there as stiff as a poll. But she came in handy though. I like her notes, they were very accurate.”

I backed away, my breath hitching as I tried to take in their words. I felt the sting of betrayal that cut deeper than I ever thought possible. All those moments I’d spent with them were just a cruel joke to them.

I found myself running to the back of the school. I leaned against the wall. I felt weak. I felt so sad, so disappointed. Their laughter echoed in my ears, and I knew that I was more alone than ever before.

My heart broke. I thought I’d finally found people who cared. Why was it so difficult to trust people?

The bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. I wiped away the tears that escaped my eyes and forced myself to walk to class.

I entered the room and I saw them—my so-called friends—sitting at our usual spot, smiling and chatting as if nothing had happened. Their eyes lit up when they saw me, and they waved me over, pretending everything was perfectly normal.

I hesitated, my feet glued to the floor. I wanted to confront them, to ask why they would say such hurtful things behind my back. But the words caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt exposed, as though everyone in the classroom could see right through me.

Swallowing my pride, I forced myself to take a seat beside them.

The fake smiles they plastered on their faces made my skin crawl, but I pretended, too. I laughed when they laughed, and nodded when they spoke, all while I wanted to slap them. I wish I could do that.

But the truth was, I was too embarrassed, too sad to confront them.

Now, I had to remember when the friendship started.

I didn’t have many friends growing up—actually, none at all. My classmates were just that: classmates. We shared the same space and exchanged greetings but it never went beyond that.

When I was just a child, I was content with one friend and gave all my time and affection, but before I knew it, we no longer spent time with each other. I would cry a night but I would move on the next day.

I was always the one on the outside looking in, and finally, I told myself I didn’t have to beg for someone’s attention. If they didn’t like me, I had to accept it. I convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone and that I was better off alone.

But then, when they first reached out to me, it felt like a lifeline. I wondered why they’d suddenly shown interest in me, but I was so tired of being alone. They were nice and funny. They would sit next to me, eat lunch with me, and share their happy experiences.

I let my guard down, and let them in, and for a while, it was good. I laughed with them.

But the friendship had always been one-sided. It was an illusion I’d created to fill the void of loneliness. They never really saw me.

All because of Grayson.

The transferred guy from fourth year, A class. He would sometimes sit in the class when our teacher was not around. And speaking of the devil, Grayson walked in.

My heart did its usual flutter, but this time, it was tinged with bitterness. How could I want his attention when I couldn’t even trust the people who claimed to be my friends? Because of him, I was approached by people who craved his attention, using me to get their claws on him.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I plastered on a smile and laughed when I was supposed to, but inside, I was hurting. I was truly alone, surrounded by people who couldn’t care less if I disappeared tomorrow.

And the worst part? I still wanted to be noticed, still wanted to be seen—but I didn’t know how. They couldn’t see me.

Minutes dragged on, and their words from earlier replayed in my mind, over and over, each time cutting deeper. Watching them felt like another knife twisting in my chest.

I glanced around the classroom, watching my classmates chat and joke with ease. Everyone seemed so connected, so sure of their place. And there I was, sitting next to people who didn’t care about me, pretending that I was okay.

I wanted to scream, to tell them how much they’d hurt me, but instead, I sat there, silent and pretending. I would move on from this. I knew I could.

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