I was standing there in the hall, trying to figure out how I could tell her we needed to meet for the school project. Or maybe I should just do it all myself. But the truth was, I had promised myself—no more talking to her. Yet here I was, bound by reality, forced to break my own rules. Then, unexpectedly, she came up to me. She asked if I wanted to do all the work, and without even looking at her, I nodded. She told me to send her the part she had to memorize and then walked away. I couldn't bring myself to look at her—especially after everything I had just learned. I did the entire project alone, prepared everything, sent her what she needed for the presentation, and then threw my phone aside, pouring myself a drink—Cola mixed with sparkling water. It had this weird, almost numbing sensation, and for some reason, I liked it. It stopped my mind from spiraling, from dwelling on the painful truth: Every happy moment I'd shared with her was just a lie. The feelings I thought were mutual had always been one-sided. The worst part? I had spent so much time with someone who never cared about me. It hurt so much that I drank those strange concoctions, hoping they could somehow ease the suffocating pain I felt inside.
A week passed. Friday morning came, and I had to present our project in biology class. Technically, I had done everything. But why did I still have to go through this humiliation? It felt like a cruel joke. I was already dreading the embarrassment, but shockingly, it went smoothly. We both did our parts, and we even got an A. She didn't react—no surprise there. She was so calm, so detached. The universe had already torn us apart, but still, it kept throwing us together in the most uncomfortable situations. I couldn't help it—I was still worried about why she seemed so calm. I ignored the small voice inside of me, the one that said I should be feeling something. But I didn't. I just moved on. Or at least, I tried.
Then Saturday came. Mara and I were hanging out at the mall, buying clothes, talking, and trying to enjoy the day. We sat down at Starbucks, sipping our coffee, until Mara brought her up. Pandora.
Mara: "I know it's a sensitive topic for you, but I need to tell you something."
Alex: "Okay, just say it."
Mara: "I was working with Pandora in French class. We didn't choose each other—it was random. Anyway, we were talking about a story that talks about life and friendships. When we got to a part about regret, she said something that stopped me cold. She admitted how wrong she was about everything she did to you."
Alex: "It's too late for apologies. The damage is done."
I stared at my phone, turning on a fake call to escape the moment. I had to leave. Why would she apologize now, after everything? After hurting me so deeply, after everything I had to endure? My heart had already turned cold. I didn't want her to say sorry. I didn't want to hear it.
The next Monday, I skipped sports class. I wasn't feeling well—flu, I guess. I sat alone on the bleachers, eating snacks from my backpack, trying to focus on anything but the pain. But I couldn't escape it. I felt it when someone was staring at me. I turned around and there she was—Pandora. She was pretending to be distracted by the field, but I knew. Her eyes were on me. And somehow, I felt embarrassed. I couldn't understand why—my face burning as if I was the one caught in a lie. I just kept eating, pretending nothing was wrong.
Finally, I couldn't hold back. I spoke, loud enough for her to hear.
"You know, if you want to talk, you can just come over."
She looked at me, surprised. Then she sat next to me. Neither of us said a word for what felt like hours. Just sitting in this painful silence. The truth had already shattered everything. I couldn't pretend anymore. No matter how brave I tried to be, I knew things could never go back to the way they were. The truth—her lies, the manipulation—had broken something inside me that would never heal.
Finally, she spoke.
Pandora: "Nice weather, isn't it? I like it when it's cloudy. I think it might rain."
Alex: "Yeah, I like the rain. It's like... it washes everything away."
Pandora: "I know what I did was wrong. I hurt you. I deserve everything that happens to me. I'm sorry. Even though I know it doesn't change anything, I hope someday you'll forgive me."
In that moment, I wanted to cry so badly. But I couldn't. Not a single tear would come. Just one small tear escaped, and that was it. All my emotions were trapped inside, suffocating me. I told her to go to the library, to sit alone where no one could bother us. As I followed her there, I felt this weird pressure in my chest. My head was pounding, and my heart was racing like I had just run a marathon. The weight of sadness and betrayal threatened to break me, but I swallowed it all down. We sat at a table in the library, talking about everything that had happened, about our separation. She smiled. I couldn't return it. But for some reason, seeing that smile—hearing her voice—was comforting.
But I also knew I was only hurting myself. I was holding on to a lie, to someone who had never truly cared about me.
I know what everyone is probably thinking right now: She's manipulative. She doesn't deserve you. But the truth is, my soul was tired of being lonely. No matter how many friends I made, no matter how much they cared, I still felt empty. And that bond I had with Pandora, as toxic as it was, still held me captive. My heart wanted her back. My mind screamed at me to stay away, to never trust her again. But the battle inside me was unbearable.
I made a decision, one of the most painful, foolish decisions I could make. I decided to trust her again. I don't know why, but I did. Maybe it was the part of me that still hoped, still believed that things could somehow be fixed. I was too scared to let go.
And then, Mara broke up with me. She said I had been telling my secrets to other people. But I never did that. Never. Maybe I had once, with Pandora, but never with Mara. She kept getting angry with me, pushing me away. So, I told her to never talk to me again. The strangest thing? I didn't feel hurt. I didn't feel sad. I didn't miss her. I realized something about myself—that Pandora had ruined my ability to trust anyone. That's why leaving Mara didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. It wasn't because I didn't care. It was because, after Pandora, I couldn't care anymore.