I was ten years old when I first experienced disappointment.

I can remember it so vividly as if it happened yesterday. The shrieking of children, the hushing of parents, the screeching of the AV systems as the headteacher brought the shoddy microphone to her lips.

"Parents, relatives, and friends," she said, "It is my honor to welcome you all to St Peter Primary School's annual Christmas concert." The audience clapped. "We have so many bright children here ready to wow you with their talents. First up, we have the musical stylings of Day and Knight." The headteacher chuckled. "Please give a loud round of applause for Nigel Dayton and Oliver Knight!"

The excitement I felt for the performance vanished in an instant. The moment their seats were empty. The second I saw the reserved signs in the front row. Excitement was no longer what vibrated my heart, no, it was disappointment.

But despite the pain that infiltrated every fiber of my being, I played.

I played my heart out.

What else was there to do? Crash and burn in front of all my friends? My classmates? All the other parents who actually gave a shit about their children? No. I wasn't about to embarrass myself. I wasn't going to look sad. Or angry. Or hurt.

What useless emotions.

I soon learned that those unwelcome and cumbersome emotions were a direct result of caring, of having expectations, of wishing for the impossible. So I stopped. I let go of those feelings. I taught myself the art of not giving a fuck. Of having zero expectations.

Zero.

It happened slowly. Every year. I felt myself care less. It started first with my parents. Soon my classmates. Then the world around me. Then myself, I guess, if I'm being honest.

And over time, it became easier. Nothing affected me. Nothing. Like I was numb. Like I was a vessel with nothing inside.

No heart, no feelings, no emotions.

I know it's not ideal. It's not a healthy way of living life. I know what. I really do. I am so fucking aware of that fact. But what else was I supposed to do? What other solutions were there? Especially for a child? A child that was never lucky enough to experience the joys of parental comfort, love, or pride.

Was I to cry? Beg? Pray for the affection?

No.

You can't be hurt if you don't care. I've known that for years. I've lived by that mantra for years. It's been my shield for fucking years.

So why am I disappointed now? Why am I feeling like I did when I was ten years old? Why did I allow this to happen?

But most importantly...why isn't she here? Why isn't she in the front row looking up at me with those rich brown eyes? She isn't smiling up at me?

Why isn't she here?

Why?

"Alright! Alright!" the MC hollers, settling down the crowd. "This next band is a hometown favorite, give it up for Catharsis!"

"Ready boys?" Jaime asks, glancing at us as he tunes his guitar. We all nod, and he turns back to the audience. "We got a couple originals for you guys today, and a little treat at the end! Let's give 'er!"

And I play.

I play my heart out. Hitting every beat, running all the fills, bashing the drums so hard that my stick breaks. Twice. But I play. Like I've always done. Claps, snares, and thuds fill my ears, travel up my fingers, arms, filling my body with noise. Noise. It's drowning out the clamouring of disappointment that's running rampant in my brain.

This is what happens when you start caring. This is what happens when you aren't careful. You start to feel. And feeling? It doesn't feel good. Not at all.

"This last one is Acquiesce by Oasis," Colt pants into the mic, shooting me a side-eye.

I nod, jaw locking as Jaime leads us into the intro. The crowd roars as they recognize the song. I scan the front row. Again. She's not here. The one person who's smile I actually care about. What an idiot. A fucking moron.

The next four minutes are hell. A hell I brought on myself. Like a fucking masochist.

"Thank you!" Colt shouts as the song comes to an end.

I rush off stage, my entire body tense with anger, hurt, pain, and disa-fucking-pointment.

"Oh my God, Ollie!" Raven yells, running up and wrapping her arms around me as I stand stiff as a board. "You were so good! Like amazing! Seriously!"

"Thanks," I mutter as she pulls away, frowning at me. "What?"

Raven purses her lips. "Looks like you need a drink."

I scoff. "More like ten."

"Come on then," she says, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bar. "Let's do a shot."

"I'd rather drink alone," I say.

"Just one teensy tiny little shot," Raven coos, tossing me a flirty smile. "Please?" She pauses, biting her lip. "I'll pay!"

I blink, letting out a chuckle. "Money is not the issue, believe me."

"Come on, Ollie," she begs. "Let's have some fun! Celebrate and shit. Let's go!"

I sigh, scanning Raven's eager face. She wears a lot of black stuff around her eyes. It's heavy. Thick. Distracting.

"Just let me get my phone from the basement," I say.

Raven rolls her eyes. "You don't need your phone, okay? I'll entertain you."

"You will?"

"Oh, definitely," she smirks.

A distraction.

Better than disappointment.

***

Maxine's advice plays in my head as I approach the bouncer standing at the entrance of the bar.

Act cool. Don't look nervous. Be confident.

"ID?" the burly bearded man asks, giving me a curious once over.

"I'm on the guestlist," I say, tone even as I peek at his clipboard. "Kennedy Carmichael?"

The bouncer grunts, checking the names. "Oh, Ollie's friend." He looks up at me. "You're late, you know that right? Their set ended an hour ago."

"I know," I whisper, guilt washing over me. I hope he understands. I'm sure he will. "I had a family emergency."

"Right," he hums, stepping aside. "Well, enjoy."

"Thanks," I murmur, anxiously adjusting the cuffs of the leather jacket as I squeeze inside the packed bar. The scent of stale beer and foul odor permeates the air around me as I look around for Oliver.

Where is he?

"Kenny, hey!"

I spin around to find Cliff standing behind me. "Oh, hey, I didn't know you were coming."

"Oliver invited me last minute," he says, looking over my shoulder. "Plus, Max was busy tonight."

"Right," I say, flicking my nails. "Have you umm seen Ollie anywhere?"

Cliff scratches his head. "I think I saw him head down to the rehearsal space downstairs a few minutes ago."

"Where's that?"

He points down the dark hallway. "That way."

"Okay, thanks," I say, casting him a small smile. "I'll see you in a bit. Have fun!"

"Mhmm," Cliff hums, bringing a Coke to his lips. "You too."

Energy and excitement burst inside me as I push my way through the hoards of people, trying to reach the rehearsal space. I can't wait to tell Ollie that my mom called. It's insane. It's like all my wishes are finally coming true. And I know he's going to flip. He's going to be so happy for me. He's going to be-

I freeze in the middle of the hallway, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach.

He's going to be...kissing another girl?

I can't move. I can't speak. I can't hear. There's no music playing. There are no people around me. There's nothing. Just me.

And them.

His hands on her waist. Her hands in his hair. Their lips crushed together. Nausea threatens to overtake me, creeping up my throat, coating my tongue. No. This isn't happening. Why is this happening? Oh, my God. My eyes well up with hot tears. Oh, my fucking God.

I thought we were-

"Move! You're in the way," someone says, shoving me to the side.

"Sorry," I say, disorientated, distraught, devastated.

Immediately, Oliver's glazed eyes snap open and lock with mine. "Kennedy?"

That's all it takes. My name slipping off of his tongue.

Tears.

I turn around and run towards the exit, my shoulders colliding with random people as Oliver calls out after me.

God, I'm such an idiot. Why? Why did I think we were something? We're nothing. I mean nothing to him. It's a game. A ploy. A charade. I should've known. I'm smarter than this. How did I let this happen? Why did I think he was different? Why did I-

"Kennedy!" Oliver shouts as I stumble down the sidewalk. "Stop!"

I pause, catching my breath. "Go away," I whisper, wiping under my eyes. "Leave me alone."

"Not until you tell me why you're here," Oliver says, coming up behind me. Confused, I turn around. "Why are you here, Kennedy? Huh?"

"What?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "Why am I here? Because you fucking invited me!"

Oliver scoffs. "I invited you to my show." He checks his watch. "Which ended a while ago, so I ask again, why are you here?"

I blink, my heart hammering in my chest. "I'm sorry I missed your show but something came up and I-"

"Something important, I bet," he cuts me off. "Don't tell me, you had extra credit work to do or something."

"No, it was that-" I clench my teeth together. "You know, it doesn't even matter anymore. Why don't you go back inside and finish sucking that girl's face, huh? You seemed to be enjoying it!"

Oliver cocks his head to the side. "You seem angry. Why?"

"God!" A neurotic laugh tumbles out of my mouth. "You're unbelievable!" I shake my head, my fingertips thrumming with bubbling frustration. "I can't believe I- Oh, my God."

Oliver's intoxicated expression hardens. "Why are you mad, Kennedy? Say it."

"You're not seriously asking me why I'm mad," I say, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why do you think, Ollie?!"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Beats me."

"Holy shit," I whisper under my breath, scanning his face. "You need some serious help."

"Ken-"

"No," I state, turning around and walking away, my steps heavy, defeated, livid. "Drink some fucking water."

"Oh, typical Kennedy!" Oliver calls out. "Running away like she always does!" I continue walking. Don't look back. "Keeping everything bottled up!" Ignore him. Just walk. Walk! "Only ever caring about herself!" I stop, breathing heavily. "Why are you angry, Ken?! Fucking tell me!"

Enough!

I spin around, glaring at Oliver as I scream, "Because I like you, you fucking idiot! That's why I'm angry! Okay? God, you're so fucking stupid!"

"Oh." Oliver stares at me with an unreadable expression for a second before he takes five purposeful steps towards me.

"Wha-" The question gets swallowed as he grabs the back of my head, slamming his lips against mine, wrapping his arm around my waist, my body relaxing into his.

I've imagined this moment for a while now. When I'd be falling asleep. In my dreams. Sometimes in class. I pictured how it would feel to kiss him. How magical. How comforting. I thought about how soft his lips would be, how they would taste. Everything.

Huh.

Strawberries. He tastes like strawberries.

Oh, my God.

He tastes like fucking strawberries!

Placing my hand on his chest, I push him away. "Get off of me!"

Oliver staggers backward, confusion plastered on his face. "Why-"

"You still have her fucking lipgloss on your face!" I yell, fighting back tears.

"Shit." Oliver wipes his mouth, his brows knitting together. "Kennedy, I-"

"You what?" I ask, shaking my head. "What?!"

"I'm sorry," he says, honest desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry about-" He pauses. "But I like you too, I-"

"What?" I blink. "You like me too? Oliver, you were just making out with another girl! How could you say you like me?"

"It was a mistake," he whispers, bringing his hand to my face. I step away. "Kennedy, please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like I-" He swallows, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like I cheated on you or something. We're not- I mean, it's not like-"

I nod, stifling a manic chuckle. "Like we're dating? That's what you were going to say?"

"Well, yeah-" he stammers, wincing. "Fuck sakes." He meets my gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? I really am."

I scoff. "Why are you sorry, Oliver? Huh? If we're not dating, then you have nothing to apologize for, right?"

"Well-"

"You know," I muse, remnants of strawberry floating around my mouth. "I think that this little arrangement of ours is over. I'm done with this." I look over Oliver's shoulder at the black-haired girl walking out of the bar. "You're free to make out with whoever you want now."

"No." Oliver shakes his head. "I don't want anyone, I want you. Only you."

"Ollie!" the girl calls out, swaying side to side. "What are you doing? Come back! I miss you!"

"Right," I say, resolution in my tone. "Only me."

"I'm serious, Kennedy," Ollie says, trying to take my hand again. "She means nothing to me. I promise it was one time. I wasn't thinking, I was just upset and mad that you didn't show up and-"

Everyone has problems. A story. A past. Demons. I have plenty. The burdens. The pressures. The weight of expectations. They follow me every day.

I don't need more problems. His problems. His demons. His burdens.

It'll kill me. It'll destroy me.

"Goodbye, Oliver." I pull my hand away, nodding at the drunk girl smoking behind him. "I'm sure you'll have a great winter break."

"Kennedy, please!" Oliver begs. "Don't leave, I'm so sorry! I really am!"

"Me too," I say, shrugging off his grip and walking away.

And I walk. And walk. And walk. With no destination in mind. No idea where I'm going.

Lost.

Always lost.

"KC?" I crane my neck to a voice coming from a car pulling up to the sidewalk. He parks and hops out. "Hey, what're you doing out here?"

"Hi," I say, wiping tears off my cheek. "I'm just uh- on a walk."

"Were you crying?" Sawyer asks, scanning my face intently. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing," I mumble, cringing at myself. Hilton Hears is going to thank me for this one. "Actually, umm...Oliver and I broke up."

"Oh," he hums. "That sucks, sorry."

"Yeah," I say, chewing my bottom lip. "Sure does."

"Do you uh- want a ride somewhere?" He points to the Hummer. "Max's place, maybe?"

Somewhere. Somewhere safe. Warm. Comforting.

"Actually," I say, pulling out my phone. "Can you drive me to New Haven?"

"New Haven?" Sawyer asks. "What's in New Haven?"

"My mom," I smile, focusing my energy on the good. "She called me."

Sawyer's eyes light up. "No way! What?! When?"

"I'll tell you on the drive," I chuckle, nodding at the car. "Will you take me?"

"Of course." Sawyer opens the passenger's side door for me. He smiles, expression soft as he adds, "Been a while since we've been on a road trip together."

"Yeah," I say, climbing into the car. "It has."

Maybe being lost isn't so bad.

It's a way to be found. 

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*SIDE-EYE*

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