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“Stan,” I call him with a weak voice, slowly entering his bubble.
I approach him carefully, kneeling in front of him. I sit on my heels as my eyes roam his face. His eyes are swollen, red, and puffy. The spark that was always present in them has disappeared, leaving nothing but void. His sight is lost somewhere in the books surrounding us; his broken expression is enough to break my heart.
“I talked to Coach,” he mentions in a hoarse tone. “He confirmed that everything is true. I—I have nothing in here.”
I’m here, Stanley.
I stay quiet because I can’t say that. I can’t pretend to become his future when he has nothing holding him here. I’m just a girl that he met in a class; I’m his downfall and destruction. Stanley’s right. He has nothing in this place. His future is in a well without ending, forever falling and never landing. All of his hopes and dreams have escaped from his hands.
I broke him.
I wrecked his future.
He got close to my chaos, and I used it to destroy him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, incapable of thinking something else to say.
His feelings are valid. He has every right to be angry, to suffer and grieve for what he has lost. Stanley has every right to feel like he’s on the edge of breaking down. He’s in the eye of a hurricane, and I can’t get him out of there even if I tried because I was the one that caused it.
I can’t compare my situation to his. I have options and the money to stay here; this is my home. Stanley’s heart belongs thousands of miles away, while mine belongs to him.
“I know that I made my own choices. I’m responsible for what I chose, but at the same time—” Stan trails off.
“You blame me,” I complete when he stops talking.
Stanley closes his eyes, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to pull himself together.
“I don’t want to do it, Bree,” he assures me without meeting my gaze. There’s a frown on his face. “I swear that I don’t want to because I know that it’s not your fault.”
I want to scream, beg him to push that absurd thought out of his mind, plead him to remember that it was that choice that brought us together. He knows my soul because of that decision. My own mistake is shadowing me. I’m responsible for ruining his life because I wanted to get out of something that ended up going out anyway.
Maybe he was always better off without me.
Is this the way of the world telling me that you can’t change destiny? Because I don’t want to think that Stanley was meant to lose his scholarship since the beginning. It would be so unfair. Many don’t work for what they want and take for granted what they have. Some don’t even value the tools and offers that they have. I’ve witnessed Stanley’s dedication to his career, the way that he has worked hard to get here, only to lose it all a year before graduating.
One year.
Twelve months, and he lost it all.
My chest feels heavy, I’m not getting enough oxygen, and a pressure crushes my torso. Physically, I can feel my heart breaking to pieces with every second that passes in which Stanley doesn’t look at me.
Look at me, please. Tell me that you didn’t mean it.
Please, please, please.
But he never does.
“It’s okay,” I choke out. “I blame me too.” My voice breaks, and all of my control goes to hell when I see a couple of tears roll down his cheeks. He wipes them away angrily.
That was the last nail in the casket for me to feel like the worst person in the world. I want to cry and beg for his forgiveness, but it’s not what Stanley needs. He has always made me a priority. Now it’s my turn to return the favor, even when we’re breaking apart.
I’m going to make him my priority.
I don’t have the right words. I doubt that they exist in a situation like this, but my brain is incapable of giving him advice. How to make him feel better when it was my acts that brought him to this position? Instead of talking, knowing that’s useless, I hug him tightly.
“How am I going to tell my parents?” Stanley asks, and it’s when he shatters completely, drowning his sobs in my chest.
My lungs contract, pain spreading in my chest. How is it possible that we’re able to experiment this emotional pain? It feels like the whole world fell on me, crushing me, leaving me motionless. I let silent tears stream down my face, even when I don’t think that I’m entitled to do it. I don’t have the right to cry.
