He didn’t say it back. Of course, he didn’t. Why would he? I could only sit back in the limousine and watch as my whole world collapsed. I should be happy. I should feel over the moon because there’s no more school and I can finally have the break I deserve. But I don’t feel anything. I can’t. Not when I’ve lost my other half. I stare out the car window, thinking about our last conversation together. I want to be mad at him for not saying it back. For letting me walk away. Except the only person I can hold liability toward is myself because he’s done nothing wrong. He’s not scared like I am. He doesn’t have to hide. He’s proud of who he is, and one day I’d like to be like him.