**Priscilla’s POV:**

I froze. I didn’t mean to startle him. I must have looked like a creep, didn’t I? The expression on his face scared me even more; he looked so cold, yet so handsome.

My heart skipped a beat. I’d had a huge crush on him since I started school as a freshman. He was my senior by two years.

I was tired of how everyone treated him like he would break, even his best friend. I thought he should know him better. I knew that feeling of frustration of being pitied by everyone. I also lost my Dad in an auto accident at a young age. The feeling was overwhelming; he was my world. I cried so hard until I felt I had no liquid in me again. Everyone trying to protect me made me want to cry more. I wanted to get away from everyone, be alone. I wanted to stare at the sun as it set beyond the horizon alone, but deep down, I just needed someone to talk to, not someone who pitied, someone who understood how I felt; no one did.

I thought I could help him out. I had seen him walking earlier to a secluded part of the school. It was one of the calmest parts of the school with a chair under a big tree shielding direct rays of sunlight, exuding a cool and soothing atmosphere. I had seen him walking alone, nobody was around; it was my chance to try and talk to him. I waited for a few moments before following him, for it not to look like I was stalking him.

I saw him with his head bowed from a distance; he seemed lost in thought. I walked toward him, hoping he would notice my presence and raise his head. He didn’t until I was so close to him. I didn’t know what to do; calling his name would really startle him and would be an awkward way to start a conversation. I stepped on a twig accidentally; it made such a loud noise he snapped his head up.

His expression sent a chill down my spine. He looked very angry. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea, I thought. I should have listened to Janet, my best friend. She warned me against trying to talk to him. I’d never tried to start a conversation with him on a regular day because I was shy and a bit scared of him. Doing so when he’s sad and probably angry was a bad idea, she had said. I insisted I wasn’t trying to talk to him because I had a crush on him; I was trying to help him as someone who had been in that moment of pain and sadness, trying to help another in his time of need. I had convinced myself to believe that until I did.

“Hi Peter,” I said meekly.

“Hi, what do you want?” he asked very coldly.

I was taken aback by how cold he was.

“Errrm… I wanted to tell you sorry about your mom’s death,” I blurted out.

“Thank you, is that what you wanted? I’ve said it, now, can I have some time alone now?”

I felt so small in front of him; I regretted coming to meet him. I wished I could sink myself into the ground. He thought I was another one of those girls who had a crush on him, trying to get close to him in his most vulnerable state. I couldn’t have him thinking that. I tried again.

“I just wanted to tell you, if you needed someone to talk to, someone who understand you, I am right here for you,” I stammered.

“I’m tired of having to listen to the same nonsense from you all. I don’t know you; why would I try to talk to you? You claimed to understand me. How can you do?” he asked angrily.

This is going wrong, totally wrong. It wasn’t as I planned it in my head. I anticipated him rejecting my gesture, not just this. He is being really mean right now.

“I’m really sorry,” I replied.

“Yeah, right,” he said mockingly.

I turned my back and walked; I could feel him staring a hole in my back. I felt really embarrassed. I should have listened to Jane and resisted the urge to talk to him. I tried to make excuses for his reaction in my head. I really liked him and couldn’t hate him because he snapped at me. Perhaps he did because he had been pushed to his limits, and I just coincidentally ended up on the bad side of his mood. I felt sad; it was unfair. I didn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of his transfer of aggression. It all toiled in my mind. I was angry and pitied him at the same time. I was having a mixed reaction.

I saw Jane, and she waved at me from a distance; she was sitting there with a book on her lap, studying for the physics test we had this morning.

“So, how did it go?” she asked with piqued interest.

“He snapped at me.”

“Snapped at you? Why? What did you do?” She asked. I could see the change in her expression; she can be really protective of me.

“Apparently, I said the same thing everyone has been saying to him since morning, and he flared up a bit,” I replied.

“Who the hell does he think he is? He can’t snap at you for showing him empathy,” she said angrily.

“It seemed he had received enough sympathy for a day, don’t you think? It could be really frustrating, you know. It is totally my fault for being shortsighted,” I replied. I was trying to play down her anger. I didn’t want her to be angry at him.

“How is it your fault? He should have stayed at home if he didn’t want people to sympathize with him. It’s a normal human response to show sympathy to someone suffering or distressed. He cannot tell people how to show theirs. Most of the people who showed empathy did so out of genuine concern. So what’s his problem?” she asked.

“Come on Jane, let’s forget about it. It was my fault; I should have totally listened to you and not tried to talk to him.”

“Yeah, you should have,” she said, rolling her eyes at me. “But you couldn’t resist talking to your crush.”

“Oh, shut up Jane. Let’s forget about that; we have other things to focus on. The next class is starting soon,” I said.

“Where’s Phil?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen him. I hope you remember we have a physics test, and it’s 30 percent of the total grade.”

“Of course, I do.”

“You’ve studied for it? I’ve barely seen you sit down to read today; all you did was talk about Peter.”

“I woke up in the middle of the night and did my reading.”

“And you finished the whole topics?” she asked.

She always does this before a test or an exam. She knew I was always one or two topics behind. She was as hardworking and brilliant academically as they come, and quite the opposite was I. She always tried her best to make sure I was keeping up in class or completed the topics before a test and proceeded to ask random questions. We sometimes read together the night before a test or an exam