By now, the tears were streaming down my cheeks, rivers of dispair and hopelessness. I was as if some cruel monster was tearing at the edges of my heart, trying to rip it apart and at the same time tortur me by doing it, putting me through this terrible nightmare called love…

“I don’t really know what to say, Bette. We’ve had this conversation thousands of times before and I really wish I could do something for you. You really deserve to get whatever you want, but maybe she’s just… I don’t know, this probably sounds like a cliché, terribly cheesy and isn’t helping one bit, but maybe you should focus on other things.”

I look at Shane unbelievingly. “You can’t be serious, Shane… you know I tried. It’s just that everything reminds me of her and she seems to overtake my mind and I can’t stand it. Sometimes, when I’m alone, I think that next time I see her, I’m just going to shout at her how I feel, because I do feel mad for her not seeing through me. I know it doesn’t make sense and the fact that she doesn’t realise is a good thing, I don’t give her any signs either, but it’s so damn hard to just keep on pretending.”

“I won’t tell you to find anyone of your own age.”

“And by this, you’ve done it anyway.” I wipe the tears away. “I’m really sorry to be bothering you, Shane.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She gives me a weak smile. “I just can’t begin to imagine how you must feel, but I’m trying. Anyway, I want you to pour your heart out at least to someone.”

“Thanks, you’ve got no idea what this all means to me. I know we have the same conversations every week and we seem to be going in circles. I know you’d probably rather be with Carmen right now, because she brings you happiness and sex and I bring you just this exhausted-from-feelings teenager.”

“If I see Carmen all the time, it isn’t exiting anymore, is it?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“So do you ever plan to tell her? Ms Kennard?”

“I don’t know. Yes. No. No. That letter I wrote her… sometimes I think I’m going to give it to her, anonymously. But that would imply not knowing her reaction and that would drive me insane, the idea she might know who it is, might know it’s me, but by then I’d be off to college and I wouldn’t know.”