(RIVALS) The Upside of Falling ✔️

Chapter 42: Fearless

Becca

That night my phone never rang. I kept glancing at it every ten seconds, hoping the screen would light up and Brett's name would appear, but it never did.

All my texts went unanswered.

All my calls went straight to voicemail.

Brett's just busy with his mom, I told myself.

At first it worked. I managed to deceive my own mind that Brett was taking care of his mother that night. I convinced myself that was the sole reason why he couldn't call or send me a quick text back.

But the next morning, he wasn't at school.

I walked into Mrs. Copper's English class and my heart dropped when I saw that his seat was empty.

And that was when my mind went into overdrive. That was when every worst case scenario flew into my head and obscured my vision, making my brain feel like it was running laps around itself.

I ran to the bathroom after first period and called Brett. Even though I knew better, I still felt disappointed that he didn't pick up. I left him a message asking him to call me back but my phone never rang.

That was the first message I left but many would follow in the upcoming days.

I began to sulk my way through the hallways which started to seem a bit too crowded and a bit too loud.

I had convinced myself the happy couples kissing and laughing in the halls were put there on purpose to mock me, rubbing their healthy relationships in my face. Since when did everyone get so damn happy all of sudden? Why do you only notice other people's happiness when you're feeling sad?

I ate alone at lunch at our usual table that was beginning to feel like my usual table. I tried to read the book in my hands but the words blurred together and my eyes glanced over them without actually absorbing their meaning. 

I kept glancing upwards at the cafeteria door, waiting for Brett to walk outside with a smile on his face and a tray in his hands.But he never did. And I hated the disappointment I felt every time I glanced up at the sound of the door opening and watched a stranger walk out.

I recalled a time when lunch was my favourite part of the day - an hour long break full of french fries and kisses. Sixty minutes that I had Brett's attention all to myself, sixty minutes that made me feel happiness that I hadn't felt in eighteen years.

But now, sitting at the same table by myself, those memories felt like they belonged to someone else. I couldn't help but think back to all the other hundreds of lunch periods I had spent at this table alone, not a care in the world. It's struck me how I seemed to have moved backwards - back to the beginning of the school year and back to when I used to roam the halls alone.

I was beginning to understand that even though Brett wasn't physically here with me, he was still here. It felt like he tattooed himself onto my heart and no matter where I went, he was still with me. I couldn't even walk down a freaking hallway without picturing him leaning against a locker or walking beside me.

That, I decided, was the worst part. How on the outside, it appeared as if nothing had changed - same school, same hallway, same class, same desk. But on the inside? Everything had.

So I continued to eat lunch alone. And then the day after that. And then the day after that until the entire week passed and I hadn't heard a single word from my boyfriend. 

Could I even still call him that?

Eventually the entire week passed and I hadn't heard anything from Brett. I must have left him a hundred messages at this point and he couldn't even leave me one.

I went to his hotel to see him, but he wasn't there. The woman at the front desk informed that he had checked out a week ago.

A week ago.

I wanted to cry. I had every right to cry. But I refused to let the tears spill out -- I refused to be weak.

All I wanted was to speak to him. Just to hear his voice and have the slightest clue what was going on and what I did wrong so that I could fix it. But every time I reached out to him, he didn't respond.

For the first time, I understood what it was like to be on the other side - to be the one making all the moves and getting nothing in return. I never realized how empty it made you feel. Was this how Brett felt every time he put effort into our relationship but I remained afraid? Afraid to give my heart to someone else? Afraid that they would break it and break me in the process?

When I was a kid, I used to fear the ocean. It was so vast, it seemed to stretch on for ages until it fell off the edge of the earth. I would stand at the shoreline with the cool waves brushing against my toes and fear the unknown places that this body of water could take me. Until, one summer's day, my father held my hand and walked into the ocean beside me, assuring me that the world could only swallow you whole if you allowed it to. 

Standing in the water with the mud burying inbetween my toes and the seaweed wrapping itself around my legs was exhilarating. Once I was inside, I realized that there was nothing to fear but fear itself. I promised myself that day that I would be fearless.

But that promise was short-lived. The day my father left I began to fear the world. I developed a fear for reliance, for change and, most importantly, for love. Love was a four letter world that held the vastness of the entire ocean. But like that summer's day taught me, it was only scary until you bit your tongue and took a step in.

I love you, was the last thing Brett said to me. There was not one ounce of uncertainty in his voice when he said those words. His eyes were wide, aware. His voice was strong, certain. His heart was there, open. 

Brett wore his heart on his sleeve and all I had to do was wrap my palm around it until it was mine - but somehow I knew that it already was. After watching his father hurt his mother, it still didn't allow him to lose faith in love. He remained hopeful - he put all his hope in me even when I least deserved it and all I did was let him down.

I didn't want to let Brett down anymore. I didn't want to be another person to add to his list of people he loved who disappointed him. I didn't want my name to occupy the spot after his father's.

And even now, after a week of rejection, not one part of me doubts the truth of Brett's I love you. I just need to find a way to make him remember.

I need to find a way to show him that I love him too.

I need to find a way to be fearless.

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