kaden's notebook #4

Instructions

kaden pov text below I am losing my mind. I thought Tristan would have tried to talk to me by now. He hasn’t. No further attempts have been made. And it’s so disappointing. I thought he was my friend. But apparently he doesn’t care about me enough to explain why he kissed me that day– let alone acknowledge it… At first I had a glimpse of hope that he liked me back, but now I’m just confused. I mean, how on earth can you kiss your best friend, avoid talking about it at all costs, and then expect everything to just be okay and fine and normal? I decided that if he was going to pretend like nothing happened, I was going to pretend he didn’t exist. Easy enough, right? Wrong. Easy couldn’t be a worse word to describe it. I like Tristan so much. /Too/ much. To see him upset that I’ve been ignoring him? Heart-shattering– Earth-shattering, even. But I can’t give in.. If I just ignore what happened like he’s doing, then I’ll never get answers. It’s hurting both of us, sure.. But I think it will work in the end, right? I hope. “Tristan Shea, please answer number 4 for us.” I glance at Tristan sitting beside me. His eyes are almost glazed over as he stares across the classroom– there’s no chance he’s listening… “Tristan Shea!” Mr. Morrison repeats, much louder this time. Tristan flinches, hands twitching. “Answer number 4, please.” He looks down at his notebook. He hasn’t written anything. We’ve been in class for 20 minutes now. Then he looks at /me/, and I have to force myself to avert my gaze. Nope. People who kiss their friends and pretend it never happened do not get math help. No way. I’m not giving into those puppy eyes ever again. NOPE. No. “Tristan Shea,” Mr. Morrison tries again. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” Tristan is completely frozen. I don’t feel the slightest bit of pity for him. Absolutely not. No. Nope. Nuh uh. Never. Not even close. Do not look at him. /Don’t/. “That’s it– I’m tired of you ignoring me. It’s extremely disrespectful. This warrants detention for at least the rest of the week. Go to the front office.” I don’t know what Tristan does next because I’m not looking at him. The structure of my pen suddenly becomes much more interesting to me. Evidently, Tristan ends up doing nothing, because our teacher continues yelling and shouting. I really don’t feel bad for him. Nooooope. I don’t feel any guilt when Tristan presses his arms over his head like his life depends on it. I don’t have any sort of stabbing pain in my heart when I realize how hard he’s shaking. And I /definitely/ don’t consider stepping in when he starts crying for what has to be the 107th time I’ve seen in the few months I’ve known him. Who am I kidding? I couldn’t stand any of it. I still have a big huge crush on him, and I still hate to see him suffering, no matter how upset I am with him. Mr. Morrison is banging on Tristan's desk now, which is definitely way too extreme for the situation. And seeing Tristan flinch every time the teacher’s fist came down on the table was the final straw. “Please stop,,” I plead, getting up from my seat. Mr. Morrison opens his mouth to tell me off, but I genuinely don’t hear anything he says. I try to help Tristan up so I can get him out of here, gently taking his shoulder, his arm. He tries to shake me off, clearly not wanting to be touched. I apologize profusely to him in my head as I gently pull him up and start for the door. Mr. Morrison is still yelling. I couldn’t care less, to be honest. Getting down the hallway to the nurse’s office is a bit of a struggle, considering how Tristan was in no state to walk, but we eventually made it. Nurse Woods made a face when she saw us coming in. “This poor kid…” She sighs, getting up from her chair. I’m guessing she’s referring to the fact that Tristan ends up in here every other week at this point. “Panic attack?” I nod. “I think so. Our teacher was yelling at him and he got really freaked out and hasn’t really responded much to anything since.” Mrs. Woods nods, having me sit Tristan down in a chair. “Do you want to stay with him?” She asks. There’s a mischievous sort of glint in her eyes. “Um… It’s fine… I’ll just wait outside,” I tell her I need to establish some sort of distance here before I inevitably explode. Mrs. Woods frowns a bit, but she doesn’t question me as she goes to grab something from the freezer. “Alright then. I’ll see you, Kaden. Thank you for always looking out for him,” She says. I have to pretend that my heart isn’t doing backflips in my chest at that as I nod before leaving. God. I am hopelessly in love.