It was the fourth day of the last week of junior year when Jason and Behati broke up.

This originally started as a buzz among the students. And essentially it was just a whisper from someone who saw the two of them arguing on the football field near the stands in penultimate class. The gossip said they were so angry with each other that from afar you could see smoke coming out of their ears.

I remember thinking that the news was a bad joke when Audrey told me because even at that moment I knew that this would break Jason's heart — this thought made me want to cry.

At the end of class, I found Audrey in her locker, “do you know where he is?” I asked as soon as I was close enough to her.

She rolled her eyes.

She hated when I was not courteous at the start of a conversation.

“The last time I heard about his whereabouts, he was still on the football field,” she said.

“Okay, thank you so much, miss White,” I said, bowing with a half smile.

She rolled her eyes.

Again.

“Nice try, Miss Funny.” she said out loud as I walked towards the football field.

***

I saw him walking to the parking lot from afar.

I stopped for a second to think about what I should do.

Nothing felt right. Everything looked out of place and blurred. And I felt myself struggling to stay above the surface.

I saw him getting in the car.

I started to run.

Because deep down I knew that moment was important.

And when I was almost there—almost there —, my heart turned to ash.

He was sitting with his hands on the steering wheel and even though I could not see his face directly, I knew he was crying.

He was paralyzed. And I knew that inside his mind, he was fighting a battle to control his emotions. I knew that my best friend was trying with all his strength to control himself and stop crying—just stop crying.

I took a deep breath and I went to sit against a tree.

I wanted to get in that car and say that everything was going to be okay, or something else that really would not help at all.

I want to do something to make him stop crying.

But I knew he needs more alone time than generic motivational quotes.

***

I sat under that tree for a long time

I did my best to give Jason privacy — so he could feel his emotions without anyone bothering, or judging him— but at the same time I kept an eye out for when he wanted to get out of that parking lot.

I was worried about him, but I kept my distance.

And when I noticed him starting the car, I ran to approach and knock on the driver's window.

I scared him.

He did not notice me under that tree.

And after the initial shock, he just stared at me.

I stared at him too.

And we just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I sighed.

And suddenly open the driver's door.

“Get out, please,” I said as he continued just staring at me with red eyes.

He thought for a moment before getting into the passenger seat.

“Seat belt please,” I said lowly.

I looked at him.

He did not look good. His face looked like someone who had never experienced happiness. His movements seemed lethargic. And his eyes were red and swollen.

my eyes filled with tears.

I averted my eyes.

I took a deep breath.

We did not need another emotional person in that car.

***

I drove to our favorite bakery and bought Jason's favorite strawberry pie.

After I returned with the pie, we sat in the car in deathly silence.

I could hear the silence closing in around me.

I wanted to do something to get that pain out of his chest.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted him to look at me with smiling eyes and not eyes that at any moment could fill with tears.

He was sinking and I could not do anything. I was just there witnessing his decline.

I swallow my urge to cry for my best friend.

“Do you have something important today?” I asked, whispering.

He shook his head.

“Okay,” I said.

I looked at him and gave him a sad half smile.

And after that, I finally started driving.

***

I drove for over forty minutes non-stop.

And as soon as I started driving, the only thing I could feel inside the car was an overwhelming sadness. The feeling was overwhelming and final, and it felt like all the joy in the world was gone and turned to ashes.

We remained silent for twenty long minutes until that melancholy became too much for me.

I glanced at Jason quickly and saw that he was still looking at his hands.

I took a deep breath.

And I finally put Jason's playlist to play.

Queen started playing like a ray of light inside Jason's car.

I turned the volume up to the heights.

I looked at him again with wide eyes.

And I could not control myself and opened the biggest smile I gave that afternoon.

“Come on Jason, Queen needs you,” I said louder than the music, “will you let them down?”

I took a deep breath and sang at the top of my lungs.

I felt him looking at me and after a moment he started singing with me the songs he knew by heart.

That made me happy.

His voice made me happy.

So happy.

At that moment, I could feel the music surrounding us and turning a horrible time into a tolerable time.

I looked quickly at him and saw the sun coming through the window lighting up his face and the wind blowing his hair, and I saw the half smile he gave me as he sang along to the song.

For a brief minute, I could not see the boy who was crying in the parking lot. In that brief minute I could only see a beautiful and healthy boy with so much amazing stuff to see and experience and learn and a spectacular life ahead of him. I was happy for that boy.

I looked out to sea and felt that that car on that road was the only place I should be that day. And I promised myself that I would do my best to make Jason look like that boy I saw sitting next to me for a moment again. For him to go back to being the boy I had known for most of my life.

That thought became a mission for the days to come.

“Can you stop at a drive-thru before we arrive?” Jason asked me suddenly after forty minutes on the road.

***

The landscape took my breath away like every time I visited that place.

I could see the sun shining on the horizon and the sea as blue as the sky in spring. And I could feel the air entering my lungs and promising me life and happiness in the near future.

That cliff by the sea was one of the most beautiful places in the world and, at the same time, it was one of the places with the happiest memories of my childhood. Coming back there was like coming home after a long time away.

“My first thought when you kidnapped me was that you were going to kill me, and throw me into a shallow ditch away from everything and everyone,” he said as we got out of the car, “but after a while I remembered this place.”

“Who guarantees that I will not do it here?” I asked, smiling.

“After much consideration and reflection, I have decided to have a little faith in you, and your goodness,” he said with a half smile as he took our food from the backseat.

“My goodness?”

“Yeah, your goodness,” he said, winking an eye at me. “Besides, you wouldn't kill your best friend. You love Me. I’m your sunshine, Summie.”

“If I were you, Jason, I would lower your ego because it is already making you delusional, sweetheart,” I said while I took a blanket from the trunk.

“Ouch,” he said, placing a hand over the heart, “you hurt me saying these things.”

I opened a huge smile.

“Well, you are going to survive it, I think,” I said, while throwing an arm over Jason's shoulders.

We walked to an area with grass and flowers near the cliff.

We can hear the roar of the waves below us.

I could smell the scent of flowers in the air.

And despite all the pain and crying and suffering that had led us to that moment, in that place, I could have sworn that sitting on an old blanket next to Jason with the sky above us and the sea below us was the closest that human beings could ever get to happiness on earth.

Happiness.

It was a conflicting feeling.

Because I was sad for Jason, and for his relationship, but at the same time, I was happy for that moment, that memory we were building despite the terrible circumstance.

“Let's eat? I'm starving,” Jason said.

***

We were silent for almost an eternity on top of that blanket eating fast food.

I waited for him.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to make a horrible joke that would not be funny, but he would laugh anyway. I wanted to make him smile.

But I could not do that.

I could not do anything to make him feel better.

The only thing I could do was wait for him.

Thus, I waited.

I waited until he wanted to talk to me. Talk to me about what happened earlier. Or about school. Or about the future. Or about a wonderful song he had recently discovered. Or about what was going on in Aaron's life.

I wanted to talk about anything or everything.

But I know that deep down it was not the conversation itself that was making me lose my mind. What was making me lose my mind was the prospect of letting him sink into the ocean, and that there was nothing I could do to keep him from getting lost in the depths of the unknown.

I wanted to dive into that ocean and keep him from drowning.

That was a foolish thought.

I was fool.

A fool.

I looked at Jason.

I could not see his eyes—because of the red cap he put on as soon as we started to eat, it blocked my view of his eyes.

I could not stay silent any longer, wondering what was going through his head.

That silence was killing. Slowly and painfully.

I took a deep breath.

“Jason?” I asked, whispering.

I was almost afraid of his answer.

“I can’t understand,” he replied, also whispering.

His voice sounded like broken glass.

“We talked about it,” he said. “We made that promise to each other. She —,” his voice broke in half

He took a shaky breath.

“I can't understand, Summer,” he said.

“What can you not understand?” I asked, feeling sick.

“I can't understand her,” he whispered like a nurse lost on an immense battlefield. With blood on his hands and sweat on his face. Lost and deeply tired.

He took a deep breath.

“Some time ago,” he said, “we talked about what would happen to us after school. If our relationship was going to have an expiration date or if we would have a long distance relationship or something like this. We talked a lot about it, you know. Because none of us wanted to be in a relationship for years only to break up after graduation like it was some type of business transaction. We — Behati and I— wanted something real. Something lasting.”

His hands were restless, and he was looking at an area with pink flowers as if it held the answers to all his questions.

“We talked about it,” he said, almost like a prayer. “And I thought we had come to terms about the future. About our future. My future. With her,” his voice sounded lost and broken. “But now everything seems to be falling apart. I feel myself falling apart. Just falling apart. Because I created this whole scenario in my head, and today I find out that this was all just a tale I've nurtured all these years. It’s not real. It’s a tale. A silly tale I convinced myself was real.”

He placed a hand over his throat and was quiet for several heartbeats.

I looked at the sea again.

I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks on the cliff. And I could feel the salty air filling my lungs. And for a moment I wanted to dive into that sea and I wanted it to strengthen me and give me the power to never again be a slave to my emotions.

I wanted freedom from my emotions and feelings.

I wanted to feel that my heartbeat is just and only for me.

I did not want to have to use my heartbeat to count how long someone has been silent.

I wanted my heartbeat back.

I closed my eyes.

I closed my eyes for a long time.

And like a ghost appearing in the middle of the night, he let out a humorless laugh. A wicked laugh that scared me for a moment.

That laugh broke my heart.

I open my eyes.

And I looked at him.

“I don't want to have these kinds of feelings, Summer. I don't want to have this mess in my head,” he said, taking off his cap. “I'm so mad at myself. I'm so mad at Behati. And I'm so mad at the world for normalizing the concept of school relationships not being lasting. But above all, above all this anger, the most dominant feeling is sadness,” he whispered as he ran a hand through his hair and brushed it away from his face. “And the only thing I want to do is cry. I just want to lie down somewhere dark and cry. The height of my adolescence, isn't it, Summer?” he said, looking at me with a half smile. “But boys don't cry.”

I wanted to ask what had happened.

I wanted to ask for an explanation.

I wanted to say that I was not understanding anything.

I wanted to ask if he would talk to Behati again.

I wanted to shake his shoulders and scream for him to tell me the whole story.

I was not that person.

I was not that person.

He did not deserve that.

I was his friend.

His best friend.

He was in an emotionally sensitive and delicate place.

He needs a friend.

I was his friend.

I could not do that.

And I would not do that.

I took a deep breath—as if just that breath would free my heart.

“Thus, I think you are not a boy,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He laughed.

And I felt his laughter echoing through my body.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps the phrase “boys don't cry '' is wrong. Maybe it’s not wrong at all. But I'm not quite sure yet,” he said.

I opened a big smile.

A smile he could not see.

“You should make a t-shirt,” I said, taking his red cap.

“Of what exactly?” Jason asked softly.

I used the hand that was not holding the red cap to simulate a sign in front of us, ““Boys don't cry. But I'm not quite sure yet.” I think this has a great chance of making you a billionaire.”

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Please don't be a snob when the money comes,” I said playful.

He laughed.

Again.

“I would never do that,” he said as he pulled us down onto the blanket.

We were laying on top of that blanket.

Side by side.

He looked at me.

“If you want, I can even buy a plastic pool for you. Only if you want.”

I could not control my smile.

“Really?”

“Of course. I'm going to be a billionaire, silly,” he said.

“Oh, I almost forgot about it,” I said, lightly tapping my hand on my forehead. “Thus, besides my pool, will you take me to a fancy dinner party to celebrate your success?”

“Yup. At Aaron's restaurant,” he said, “I mean, if he accepts us at his super fancy restaurant.”

“We're going to be without dinner then,” I said, putting the red cap on my head. “Because if he ever has a restaurant, he will never accept us there. He will say something about Tweedledee and Tweedledum bringing bad luck.”

“Maybe, but I'll test my luck with him,” he said, smiling at me.

I looked into his eyes.

I blinked.

And for a brief moment that smile reached his eyes. And for a heartbeat he was back to being the boy I was in love with.

Not the sad parking lot boy.

But the boy I had loved my whole life.