I didn't go to school the next day.
Or the day after that.
For about a week, I barely left my room. I'd come out to eat, use the bathroom, then go back. My phone stayed in my hand but I wasn't really looking at it. I wasn't doing anything. I was just — stuck.
By the end of that week, I finally understood what I was feeling.
I had a crush on her. Had probably had one for longer than I'd realized. It had grown so quietly, over so many years, that I hadn't noticed until it was already there — taking up space inside me I didn't know was empty.
But she had a boyfriend.
So I waited.