for Lydia, because she made me a GORGEOUS cover and is always, always, incredibly kind to me ❤️❤️❤️

I have never really been one for attention, usually blending into the crowded throngs of people at my school. I don't necessarily scream SPECIAL so I never expected anything more than maybe a curious glance my way to see what I was doing. This, though, this is entirely different.

I can feel my face practically flaming with stares of surprise gluing onto my skin as I make my trek down the hallway and towards my locker. I haven't had this much attention on me since word got out that Ford and I dated, and even then people weren't this nosy. Back then it was kind of just a few whispers and stares my way but now it's full on stares and complete silence, like I just assassinated the president. Maybe they didn't expect my transformation to include a new boyfriend, or maybe they're simply shocked that yet another popular boy found his way on my arm. Whatever the reason, all I can ask is for them to stop and resume their lives without digging into mine.

Even when I reach my locker I'm not safe, the kids around me who haven't been at their lockers all year are now conveniently leaning against them. People are so fucking annoying and stupid sometimes. I mean, seriously, what's the big deal? I get that maybe it would've been a bit of a surprise at first but to go to standing around the halls waiting for some type of confrontation is just idiotic and frankly, pretty annoying. Maybe dating Brady wasn't the right choice after all, but now that I've done it there's no going back—especially not when I know that he cares about me so much.

Haphazardly I glance towards my right—Ford's locker—and spot Ford looking right back at me. Correction, glaring right back at me. His hand is gripping onto his locker so tight that I can see his white knuckles from here, and he's literally just standing there with his eyes narrowed and glaring at me like I've done something unforgivable. I'm tempted to shout at him or something, but then I remember my talk with him the other day.

"And I know that he likes me back, and I don't want to mess this up so whatever we have going on ..." I sigh, slightly hating myself for being so blunt. "It needs to stop."

I meant every single word of it, even though it hurt a little. Brady's a great guy, and even better kisser, and I really don't want to hurt him so knowing how much he seems to hate Ford, getting rid of Ford for good was and probably always will be the best decision. Though now that I'm glancing at Ford and seeing how angry he seems, I'm not too sure if I made the right choice. I've been having to make so many decisions that I'm no longer sure what's considered right or wrong—I'm just confused.

Just as I'm about to say something to Ford—or do anything really—Brady's lean body stands between us, giving me a since of familiarity in such an immensely tense area. "Hey." He breathes effortlessly, as if the entire school doesn't have their eyes trained on us.

"How do you do that?" I wonder softly, glancing around me at the hushed whispers and nosy glances. "How do you act like everything's alright?"

Brady smiles. "I just think about you."

This time is my turn to smile, momentarily not letting the onlookers bother me. Even before we became a thing, Brady never failed to make me feel the slightest bit better about things. How did I never notice before? He must've thought I was such an idiot chasing after Ford—a boy who never truly loved me—while he sat from afar simply watching our lives pass by. It hurts me to think of what I put him through, but mostly because of the irony. I was in the exact same spot as he was, watching from afar as someone I loved chose others—countless others, might I add—while I sat idly by, waiting for the single glance my way that would light up my entire week. Now we've found each other—in such different circumstances—and just thinking about it brings an even wider smile to my face as I tuck a few hairs from my bun behind my ear.

"You've just made this day so much better." I sigh lovingly, shutting my locker and leaning against it as Brady continues to smile at me.

"I'm glad," Brady chuckles, before reaching for my Literature book and taking it in his lean arms. I try not to let my heart swoon, but it's pretty difficult. "And I have a proposition for you."

"What are you proposing?"

Brady uses his other hand to run through his wavy, tawny locks. "I think that we should go out. On a date. Together. Wait." He sighs exasperatedly. "Will you go out on a date with me? Like, a first date?"

And I laugh, not because the thought of us going out on a date is humorous, but because of how adorably nervous and uncomfortable he seems. I'm not used to being around a guy who's this vulnerable. Sure Ford had his moments, but for the most part he was confident and charming, never missing a beat when it came to stealing my heart.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologize when I notice a look of hurt flash through Brady's evergreen orbs. "You're just so cute, Brady."

"Thank you?"

"What I mean is, of course I'll go on a date with you." I roll my eyes playfully, stepping forward so that I'm that much closer to Brady, so close that I can look up at his innocent eyes and hear his soft breaths. He's so nervous and it's adorable yet assuring at the same time, because I know I was the exact same way with Ford.

Brady's face relaxes as his arms wrap around my waist, but before he can say anything the sound of a locker slamming interrupts our moment. I glance around him as Ford comes storming down the hallway like a hot lighting bolt, shoving anyone who blocks his way.

"The hell is his problem?" Brady grumbles, gently wrapping his arm around me and pulling me towards his chest.

"I don't know," I watch Ford continue to shove through students, all until he disappears from sight completely. "And honestly?" I turn to face Brady then, allowing my lips to lift into a small smile. "I don't care. He isn't my boyfriend anymore, right?"

Brady beams. "Right."

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"I'll see you at home." Dad waves goodbye before closing the door of the restaurant behind him, leaving me alone in the huge lot.

I sigh before grabbing a broom and beginning to clean. Since I've realized that Ford working the same hours as me would only cause conflict, I told my dad that I'd rather work the night shift. That way I could still work and earn money but avoid all of the pointless drama and stress that comes with being around Ford. Also, it'll keep my heart under control and focused on the right thing—the right boy.

I won't lie—I've thought about Ford when I've been with Brady, and not in always in a spiteful way. We've only been dating for a few days, and I'll compare the little things Brady does to Ford—for instance, like the way he walks. Brady walks with caution and care, always asking me if it's okay to hold my hand whereas Ford was confident and would hold my hand if he felt like it, without asking. I can't decide which I like better, but I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't compare Brady to Ford because that isn't fair to Brady in any sort of way. Brady deserves my honesty and respect and I can't give that to him if I'm constantly thinking about my ex. So, I've gone out of my way to eliminate him from my life.

I spend a limited amount of time at my locker, make sure that I'm only ever alone when Ford has a class so he can't surprise me, and I've

made sure that when Ford happens to be in sight that I exaggerate my feelings for Brady. So far it's working, and I've had to do less and less to keep Ford from me because he's gotten a hint and backed off. Besides, I'm happy with Brady, I really am, and I want us to work out. I want to find someone that's good for me and cares about me just as much as I do about him, and I think I've found that in Brady. He's sweet and warm and funny, and it's refreshing to find someone so wonderful. Plus we're taking things slow and steady, not rushing into things. It's perfect.

After sweeping the floors until they're pretty clean, I get out a rag and begin to wipe down tables with multi purpose cleaner. I start in the back with the larger tables until I make it to the front and then the maître d' stand that's coated in crumbs from the earlier maître d's obsessive snacking. It makes my job harder, and more disgusting, as I scrub to pick off dried up stains from the stand.

From behind me I hear footsteps and then the door open, and my tired mind assumes that a lost costumer is planning on begging his way to a grilled cheese and coffee. "We're closed." I grumble, not even bothering to turn around as I continue to scrub off stains.

"So you pretend to be." Ford replies. "But I know you're the same old open book, Leah."

I whip around, my highlighted hair flying around my face and a few landing in my mouth. "Ford." I sigh, tugging those few hairs out of my mouth. "I thought your shift ended at 3?"

"It did," He steps forward, now only a few feet away from me. "But I had to see you, to speak to you—"

"Because of Brady." I interject, letting my mind get the best of me. From the way Ford glances at the freshly swept floors I know that I'm right.

"Yeah," Ford shrugs with his hands in his jean pockets. "Because of Brady. Because I can't stand to see you with him."

Now it's my turn to shrug, "And I can't stand your bullshit."

"Guess we have something in common."

I inhale sharply in an attempt to keep my cool. "You're ridiculous. You're ridiculous and annoying and downright jealous."

"And you're incompetent, inconsiderate and downright mean." Ford fires back. "Did you think I didn't notice all of the times you 'playfully' smacked Brady's butt? Or the way you immediately grab his hand when I walk down the hallway?"

"It's called being affectionate."

"It's called being catty." Ford spits. "And I don't appreciate it."

"You know what I don't appreciate?" I spit right back, stepping forward so that I'm about a foot away from Ford. "I don't appreciate you barging into my life and telling me how to live it. I don't appreciate you coming into my father's restaurant about four hours after your shift ended just to criticize me on the way I treat my boyfriend. I especially don't appreciate how horribly you continue to treat me even though we aren't dating, we aren't friends, and we don't even speak to each other! I don't appreciate you throwing all of your problems on me and then leaving me stranded and confused the very next morning, like it's all my fault! I don't appreciate you making me feel like crap every fucking time that I'm around you!"

By the time that I finish, I'm out of breath and my entire body is shaking. My hands are clenched at my sides as if ready to strike, and my back feels stiff, like I've been tightening my spine. Ford doesn't look too happy either, with his lips pursed into a straight line and his eyes watering in the most minuscule way.

"You're right," He chuckles softly. "You're absolutely right. In fact," Ford takes a few steps back. "Maybe I should just stop. Forever."

I inhale shakily, slowly relaxing. "Maybe you should." I mutter softly.

And then I close my eyes, waiting for the moment to pass and for my life to go back to how it was. It feels like I'm on a bullet train heading thousands of miles per hour to a location unknown by me. There's no captain or whoever to control it, and I'm strapped down tightly so that I can't move. I'm being pushed back by the sheer force of the train, and were somehow increasing in speed until everything becomes blurry.

And then I open my eyes.

And the train stops.

And Ford is gone.

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a u t h o r s n o t e

i'm literally in health rn and I'm supposed to be doing book work but I REALLY WANTED TO POST. i can't really do a lengthy authors note today so just tell me what you think and send your girl some love because it's PERIOD WEEK :/