"Gloria, it's going to be okay," Ellie assured through the phone.

I had finally broken down enough to call someone for some comfort. I couldn't deal with any more testosterone. My mom would drive the entire way to New York to pick up the mess that is currently her daughter and drag me all the way home with multiple stops to ice cream shops along the way.

My mom knows me better than anyone else. She knows exactly what I need. However, in this instance, I did not want to be forced to leave, so I called my next best option, Ellie, who would come pick me up in a heartbeat, but I know for a fact that the girl is broke. She unfortunately, has to pay for her own gas, but that has yet to stop her from going on her extravagant shopping sprees.

"I'm not kidding around, Elle. I think I have serious feelings for him," I said quietly into the phone. I knew very well that I had pretty deep feelings for Miles, but to be honest, it still scared me to say it out loud.

I barely slept at all last night because of the reoccurring nightmare that would appear if I shut my eyes for more than five minutes. Instead, I laid on my back for several hours, staring at the ceiling and realizing exactly what I had just done.

When I got on the phone with Ellie, I recounted the events that's led up to the huge mess I was now in. Along with the story was a whole lot of crying and hiccups. I was surprised that she understood half of what I was blubbering into the phone.

"Are you honestly suggesting you might lov-," Ellie began before I promptly interrupted before she could finish her question.

"Please don't say the word," I groaned, slapping a hand to my forehead. It already caused panic to rise to my chest when I said that I had any sort of really deep feelings for Miles. The word that Ellie was about to suggest just might make me throw up.

"Oh my God, you do!" she shrieked over the phone. I pulled the phone away from my ear before she could make me anymore deaf than she already had. Ellie continued with her screaming and yelling. I rolled my eyes, keeping the phone well away from my ear.

When she began to go off on another tangent, I interjected to keep her focused. "Eleanor, shut your damn mouth for two seconds," I shouted into the phone, successfully shutting her up.

"Don't call me that," she whined into the receiver. Nothing pissed her off more than when I called her by her first name. She despised it, so I of course, as her best friend, prodded her with it constantly, which always earned me a shut up or don't call me that. Today, she must really be pitying me because it was usually followed by an insult directed at me.

"Can we get back on subject, so I can figure out what to do?" I pleaded, glancing at the clock.

I needed to be down at breakfast in twenty minutes, but I was no where near mentally prepared to face Miles at the moment.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry," my best friend chanted into the phone. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "Do you think you ended it too quick,

G?"

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I rolled that around in my mind.

Did I end it too fast without asking for an explanantion? I was pretty sure about what Jackson and Miles's conversation was about. I never did ask him about it though, but then it would be obvious that I had eavesdropped.

My pride was getting in the way, yet again.

"Gloria?" Ellie said softly after I hadn't answered for a while.

"Just thinking," I reassured her.

"I trust your judgement, Glors. You're my best friend, but you didn't let him explain at all. Plus, I know how you are with letting people in. You have a pretty good read on people. I doubt you started caring for someone who was just going to drop you," she advised.

I ran a jittery hand through my ponytail. She was right. I should have let him explain.

"What am I suppose to do now?" I whispered. I was clueless about how to get him back without sounding like a cold-hearted bitch, crazy, or just plain moronic. Even if he hears me out, he might not take me back. He doesn't have to.

It was quiet on the other side of the phone, and I was slowly panicking that my very outspoken best friend was silent.

"Elle?" I squeaked in to the receiver, almost hoping that there was a bad connection and that she wasn't at a loss of words.

"I-I don't know," she finally replied.

I yanked at the end of my hair and sucked in a huge breath.

What the hell was I going to do?

"I have to go. I don't want to be late for breakfast," I told her.

"Alright. Call me if you need anything, and if you make it to the championship game, your mom and I are coming."

"I will."

Before we disconnected, she left me with parting words. "If you care about him, then he's bound to care a whole lot about you."

"Bye," I said softly, pressing the red button on my phone.

I glanced at the clock and realized, I needed to be down there in five minutes.

Shit.

I pulled my Nikes out of the closet and shoved each foot in. I did not want to be late to breakfast and look suspicious to the boys or pathetic to not show my face to Miles.

Grabbing my phone and a key, I went out the door.

I jogged across the parking lot to the low lying building that housed the cafeteria. In the rush, I was in, I pushed the door open with a little more force than I wanted. The door slammed against the wall and a loud thump sounded across the mostly quiet room. Every head in the cafeteria swung towards the entrance.

I stood, deer in headlights like, self-conscious with all the eyes staring at me.

"Oops," I said softly, ducking my head. All the guys were disinterested in about 5 seconds and turned back to their breakfasts.

I scooted over to our team's table, nodding at the guys who glanced up at me.

Breakfast was awkward to say the least and made me want to pull my hair out.

I sat as far away from Miles as possible. Unfortunately, some of the guys noticed as well, looking between us and shooting me questioning looks. I pretended not to see them. We always sat next to each other or teased one another from across the table. Miles and I barely looked at each other. Well, he didn't look at me. I on the other hand, continued to steal looks at him from across the table.

I sat quietly with my bowl of oatmeal next to Harrison. I circled the bowl countlessly, barely raising the spoon to take a bite. Out of the corner of my eye, Harrison glanced my direction nervously.

He noticed I wasn't eating. The kid noticed everything.

"You okay?" Harrison asked. His voice cracking. Puberty has still yet to fully hit him this summer.

In most cases, I would answer in a shrill voice to match his tone, but even poking fun at my adopted-for-the-summer little brother didn't feel right.

"Yeah," I answered with my best attempt of a warm smile his way. I patted his hand that was laying on the table.

He nodded and pretended to look away, but as soon as I turned my attention back to the cold oatmeal in front of me, I could feel his eyes on the side of my face.

I had been sitting in the cafeteria for fifteen minutes, and the entire time I felt uncomfortable. Knowing that I would only get questioned more if I stay here, I scooted my chair back so I could get up.

"I'm going back to the room to get changed for practice," I told Harrison.

"You haven't been down that long and you barely ate anything," he argued.

"I don't feel super great," I lied. The thought of pulling Harrison into the chaos that was happening behind door 226 was something I strongly did not want to happen.

He seemed to understand and again nodded in reply. I grabbed my bowl from the table, glancing over at the other side of the table.

Jackson was the one to look up at me. His face was clearly confused and concerned. I gave him a small wave and tight lipped smile.

I could see he wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. I snuck a look at his best friend and found him in not much better shape than me.

His blonde hair was even more ruffled than usual, and there were faint purple circles under his eyes. His food was untouched on his plate. Miles stared at his phone. His thumb every now and then, scrolling.

I tore my gaze away and set my dish at the drop bin before walking out the door.

To be quite honest, it was hard to be in the same room with him without wanting to say something.

The amount of times I've asked myself what have I done is almost riducuolus.

I need to fix this or at least clear the situation up somehow. Ideas were no where to be found though. It was as if my mind had gone completely blank.

I trudged back to my room without anything to go off of if I somehow talk to him today alone.

Getting back in the room, I started pulling the clothes I needed out for practice. Seeing I had a little while until I had to leave, I pulled out my duffle bag that I needed for our trip to the semi-finals game tomorrow.

We were playing in two days from now, but Coach, as always, wants us to get there early so we can settle and rest up.

I began folding my uniform into the bag along with a few pairs of underwear, sports bras, and pajamas. It was when I was hunting around for my toiletry bag that the door handled twisted and opened.

I froze where I was, which happened to be leaning over my night table, opening the bottom drawer. I slowly turned my head to find my blonde-haired roommate walking in.

Miles glanced at me before ignoring me completely and heading to his dresser.

I stayed motionless over the night table. Unable to form words that were suppose to come naturally with my greatly prepared plan. I finally straightened up and ran a hand to smooth my hair. My nervous ticks were showing, and there was little I could do about them.

"Hi," I said barely above a whisper.

I wanted to slap myself with my oh-so-intelligent greeting. However, Miles outwardly ignored it and continued to open drawers at the dresser.

"Miles," I tried again, a little louder.

He still didn't show any sign of interest towards my presence at all. Miles pulled out his own uniform and set it on top of the piece of furniture.

I didn't know what to do at this point with talking to him or even what to talk about.

Miles began rifling through another drawer. He paid no mind to me at all, but he had no need to pay any attention to me. I had shut him out with no reason, not the other way around. However, that didn't stop me from calling to him again.

"Miles," I tried for the third time with a steadier tone.

To my surprise, Miles answered this time.

"What?" he snapped.

I was stunned that he had responded and had no idea what to even say at this point. I never thought I would get this far.

My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

"Are you going to say something or just stand there opening and closing your mouth like a fish?" Miles barked.

I blinked, not sure what to respond to the aggressive tone he just used with me. I shouldn't be surprised that he was angry. I was the one who had pushed him out suddenly, but wasn't it to his benefit?

"Looks like you're going to be a fish," Miles answered his own question in a bored tone.

"You don't need to be so mean," I finally said pathetically.

Miles laughed humorlessly, turning fully around instead of glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

"That's cute coming from you," he answered. His green eyes watched me, analyzing my every move. Although there was a mask of anger and irritation on the surface, I could see the underlying hurt in his irises.

"Miles, I-," I began before getting cut off.

"Save it. I don't want to hear your bullshit excuse. It's over. I got it. This is a summer thing only," he snarled.

"Wait-."

"I don't want to hear it, Gloria. Save it for someone who cares."

It was like a slap in the face when he said that. Another kick to my heart and my stomach sank to my feet.

"Did you actually care about me?" I whispered after several seconds of silence.

Miles grabbed his clothes for today and uniform for the game from the dresser.

He hesitated before speaking, and I could tell he was fighting with whatever he was going to reply with.

His emerald irises that had me weak in the knees almost every time he looked my way, met my blue ones.

"No."

I sank down to the bed as he walked to the door and left. It was over. I had successfully screwed this up and there was no room to fix it now. Miles didn't care then and doesn't now and my heart was ripped out of my chest and scattered across the floor.

The tears fell over my eyelids easily and wet my cheeks once again. It was going to be a long day.

...

I collapsed on my bed with my face landing firmly in to my pillow.

Not only have I screwed up my relationship with Miles, but I just screwed myself over for the game tomorrow.

We had practice for two hours and it was the worst I've done at a practice or game. I did horrible the entire time. I was yelled at constantly for all the errors I made at shortstop. I threw balls in the dirt, five feet over people's head, and bobbled countless balls. Then during hitting, I could barely hit simple front toss. I popped up and whiffed at who knows how many pitches.

I was so distracted by Miles though with a bored expression never leaving his features. He didn't look at me once the entire time and my mind was on overdrive.

Walker looked like a superstar today with all the mistakes I had. Not that that wasn't a good thing for Walker. He is my friend afterall, but I don't want to lose the spot I had worked so hard to get.

From my poor performance today, I can only guess that I won't be playing in the semis game.

I packed the rest of my bag for tomorrow and placed it next to the door.

The room was so quiet that I could hear my own breaths going in and out. There wasn't any talking, laughing, teasing. Nothing.

I sat on my bed and looked around the room. It had changed so much since I first got here.

The very first week consisted of a spotless room with everything organized and separated accordingly. He had his drawers. I had mine.

As the days wore on, the drawers began to become our drawers. I would have to hunt around to find anything of mine because all of my clothes were mixed in with his.

We found push pins down in the lobby and put up pictures that we had both brought.

Pictures of family, friends, and pets littered the wall that both our headboards were parallel too. I looked over our picture wall and scanned the photos of people smiling and laughing.

I reached down and pulled open the middle drawer on my night stand. Inside were my books that had eventually become Miles's books too. There were nights where we simply sat in bed and just read. It was comforting in that kind of silence.

A quiet that was shared with someone else. Your breaths intermingled in the air and the bed springs would make a noise when you shifted. The kind of quiet that you could look across the room in and see the person you care about intently reading. It was my favorite kind of quiet because I felt safe and at home.

Like the old saying, home is where the heart is.

And yesterday, I lost my home.

There was a knock at the door, which made me flinch out of the thoughts I was stuck in.

I was hoping that Miles would be standing at the door. Saying that this wasn't some summer thing. That this was very real to him too. If he was there, I knew I would take him back in a heartbeat. It's the times that you're not with someone that you realize you need them the most.

I sucked in a breath of air and crossed my fingers before pulling open the door. My fingers untangled when his best friend was standing there instead.

"How you holding up, G?" Jackson asked. A sympathetic smile stretched his lips across his face.

It was as if a hundred pound weight was thrown on to my shoulders. The five word question did me in. I was not holding up. Not at all.

"I'm not," I whispered. A whole new round of tears sprung to my eyes. My bottom lip trembled, and for the umpteenth time today, I felt stupid and pathetic.

Pathetic was the only word that came to mind when I tried to describe myself. I was an over emotional fool.

I barely registered the two arms wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me in. My face was buried into Jackson's sweatshirt, wetting the fabric. My own arms coiled around his waist. My knees were shot and trembling. The only thing keeping me up was the vice-like grip I had on Jackson.

I was, oh wait for it. You already know. I was pathetic. Standing in my room, crying my eyes out yet again to the best friend. I had sunk that far.

To be quite honest, before this, I never understood why people got so emotional after a breakup. There are other people out there, aren't there? It was all of a sudden that I understood it completely.

We were connected in some way that led to feelings that trumped all others. It's true when they say your significant other is your other half. They fill that little hole in your heart that's always been there, waiting for the right person to come along and fill it. You don't want to start over with someone else because you already found the person who you wanted to share it all with.

You get into a routine. Your life revolves in some ways around that other person, whether it's talking to them, hanging out with them, or just thinking of them. They occupy your life in some way now. The break-up means the hole in your heart is unplugged, part of your life doesn't know how to function any more and a stability in your life is now gone.

You plan for the future with this person. They are your future, and then suddenly, it's like magic and they're gone.

One of my supporting columns collapsed from under me and I was teetering to stay up.

"I'm so sorry," Jackson mumbled. His forehead was resting against the top of my head. He was the big brother I never had.

"Why?" I croaked. My voice muffled by his sweatshirt. Unfortunately, Jackson didn't smell of cinnamon and pinetrees, which I distinctively noticed as my nose was being pressed more against his chest. It was the silly things like how he smelled that stuck in my brain.

I craved the scent that had consumed me so many times. The bright smile that made his eyes squint just a little. The laugh that was deep and rumbled through his chest, and the point where he was laughing so hard, he stopped making any sort of noise and his shoulders shook.

I could name every single thing I missed about Miles, but the list would never end because I missed everything about him.