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I thought she would at least acknowledge that the poem was about her and say something. Anything. But instead, she passes the rest of the class hearing everyone else’s poems and doesn’t say a word to me edgewise.
When the bell rings, I jump out of my seat, ready to escape this hell I’ve created for myself. She didn’t say anything, because she doesn’t feel the same way I do. That’s why she is ignoring the poem and me completely.
I’m so out of sorts when I leave the classroom that I don’t even know where I’m rushing to. When the boy’s bathroom comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief and head towards it. It’s completely empty inside, but still I rush to an empty stall to lock myself in. But when I turn to close the door behind me, long black curls hit my face as Valentina turns to close the stall for me.
“What are you doing here, Val? This is the boy’s bathroom, for crying out loud!”
“Why were you running away from me?” she counters instead of answering my question.
“Leave, Valentina. I need a minute alone, and you shouldn’t be here,” I say through gritted teeth.
“No! Not until you answer me. Why were you running?”
“I wasn’t running,” I tell her, pulling back away from her as far as I can in the cramped stall.
“Yes, you were. You flew out of Mr. Harris’s classroom like you were auditioning for track or something.”
I turn my head, not wanting to look her in the eyes for fear she will read every secret I have hidden in them. But who am I kidding? Valentina Rossi knows everything there is to know about me, and after the poem I just read, so do most of my classmates now.
“Logan, answer me!” she shouts more forcefully, but I refuse to break my silence, my wounded pride making the decision for me.
“Fine. You don’t want to answer that question, then answer another. Was the poem about me?”
“Who else could it be about?” I scoff.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Logan,” she says, sounding angry and a little bit hurt.
“What do you think?” I throw my arms in the air in defeat.
“I’m not sure. Not until you tell me.”
“Are you serious right now, Val?! Of course it was about you. Everything I do is about you.”
She leans against the door for balance, her eyes staring me down.
“Is that how you feel about me? About us? That I’m your sanctuary?”
I nod, running my fingers through my hair in frustration that I have to spell it out for her.
“Then why are you upset with me?” she questions, confusion marring her beautiful features.
“I’m not upset, Val. That poem was personal. I didn’t want to read it to anyone. Not to Mr. Harris, not to a room filled with our classmates, and least of all to you.”
“Why? Why not to me?”
“Because I know you don’t feel the same way about me, Val. That’s why,” I finally admit, the confession spitting my heart in two.
“How can you say that?” she pleads, bridging the small gap between us.
“I just feel it, okay?”
“You feel it? And just how do I make you feel, Logan?” she chokes out, pained, no longer hiding the hurt I’m inflicting on her.
“Val, just go. Please,” I beg. “I don’t want to have this discussion with you right now. Especially in the bathroom. Just leave.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me how I make you feel!” she shouts, slamming her fists into my chest, demanding truths I’ve tried to deny.
“Like all I’ll ever be good for is to be your friend. Nothing else,’’ I blurt out, shaking her shoulders. “And as much as I crave your friendship, I want you more. Don’t you get that? I love you, Valentina Rossi. I fucking love you, and I hate that you are making me say this shit with a toilet right here.”
