To Kayleigh, for also helping me to choose a story (even though she chose a different one lol) and sharing my love of Glee. Plus she's an incredibly amazing person with even better writing skills. Also GREASE IS AN AMAZING MUSICAL AND YOU'RE PSYCHOTIC

I, Leah Oberlin am never one to be weak, instead choosing constant positivity over anything else.

But yet, as I stare back at my blotchy and red reflection I know that for the past few months my life has been anything but.

Each day during fourth period study hall I excuse myself to go to the bathroom for my scheduled cry. Here is where I let out all of the pain and misery that I'm forced to endure every time that I look at Ford Turner. Here is where I know I can be alone because the first floor bathrooms are considered disgusting and gross when really they're the exact same as the junior hallway bathroom, just a few floors lower. Here is where I'm not the positive Lea Oberlin, the girl with the undeniable voice and the innocent personality.

Here, I'm weak.

I release my final sob before gathering up as many paper towels as possible and soaking them in freezing cold water that I then dab my face with. Once the blotchiness has subsided, I go into my makeup kit and take out my daily facial moisturizer before deeply applying it to my face along with concealer. Then, I swipe on lip gloss, mascara, and white eyeshadow to complement my dark green blouse and light jeans that are rolled up at the cuff to show off my black booties. My dark brown hair is curled with locks from each side of my head pulled back into a small circle pinned with Bobby pins to add some type of attention getter there. I'm all about subtlety when it comes to hair.

When I'm happy with how I look, I briskly exit the bathroom and head back to study hall, just as the bell to end fourth period rings. I grab my stuff from study hall and plaster on a look of pure determination as I make a beeline for the lunch hall and the pizza line. I'm usually not one to fall for the lust of junk food but pizza always has been and always will be my weakness. My parents have enlisted into me the importance of health and eating right, so I try my best to eat salads for lunch but on days like these even I'll admit that a slice of veggie pizza and fries is way too tempting to pass up.

After I've bought my meal and a bottle of zero calorie lemon water, I leave the lunch room and head straight for the auditorium. Usually you're not allowed to eat in there or go in without a teacher but since I'm basically an honorary guest, I can do whatever the hell I want. The auditorium is my safe place though, so I'd never so much as dream of doing it any harm. I've been coming here to sing and express myself since the ninth grade, and now that I'm a junior in high school it's never felt more like home. The seats are all made out of comfortable red velvet that's fuzzy to the touch and there's up to 100 of them. The stage, though slightly worn from countless musicals, is as inviting as a basketball court to a shooter or a track to a distance runner.

For me, though, it's home.

Once the heels of my booties click-clack against the floor of the stage, I exhale in relief. I set my tray down on the brown piano before taking a seat on the cushioned stool and smiling to myself as I look down at the well-loved keys. My fingers delicately run along the keys, sending waves of sound erupting throughout the auditorium. Before I know it, the chords to Hopelessly Devoted are underneath my fingertips and the song is gently erupting from deep inside of my heart where it sits and eats away at me.

"Guess mine is not the first heart broken / My eyes are not the first to cry / I'm not the first to know / There's just no getting over you"

The song by Olivia Newton John is my all time favorite from Grease, but what Sandy felt cannot fully compare to what I feel.

Back in the eighth grade was when I officially met Ford Turner. We were the best of friends, so much so, that we did absolutely everything together—from clubs to homework to sports. Eventually we expanded our duo to a quintet, inviting along Kendra Gilmore, Brady Hire, and Landon March. We became our own definition of a squad, an inseparable group of kids who never dreamed of breaking apart. And for two years that's exactly how it was.

Until I ruined everything.

Me, with my betraying heart and raging hormones couldn't contain myself whenever I was around Ford. I had easily developed a crush. Between my freshmen year I became awkward and easily embarrassed around him, always trying to impress him even while the others begged me to forget him. They tried to tell me that liking him would only lead to heartbreak and/or the end of a friendship. But I was so head strong and stubborn that I didn't so much as listen to them when I knew in my heart that they were somewhere close to the truth.

Why does the truth always have to hurt so much?

I found myself asking this question constantly through my freshmen year, and it became a reality when Ford began to have crushes on other girls. They were always pretty, bubbly cheerleaders who he would flirt with at his football games and promise to take home. Sometimes he's let us meet them, most times he wouldn't because there were always so many. I secretly kept track of every single one, hoping and wishing upon a star that one day I would be one of those girls and that I would be meeting his family—again—at dinner and talking about our future.

But that would never happen.

At least I thought so.

Everything changed one night. One night I made him meet me in the woods behind Landon's house. I was sick and tired of swallowing my feelings and coming home crying over someone who I knew deep down inside that I had no chance with. So on that night I lead him deep into the woods and I kissed the living snot out of that boy. At first it was mortifying, because it hadn't occurred to me that he might not actually like me back. But I was proven wrong, so wrong, when he kissed me back.

And then he did it again.

And again.

Before we were rolling around in the sticks and grass and dirt and flowers, sweaty and fat with lust for one another.

Before he yanked a condom out of his pocket and said no words as I let him take from me the one thing that should've mattered to me the most.

But I didn't give a crap because he was finally mine. He was finally the boy that I could call my boyfriend, he was finally the guy my parents could meet—again—he was finally everything that I wanted him to be and more. Sure sometimes the relationship felt a little one sided, but he constantly told me they he loved me, even when people would whisper about how he was too good for me. Even when I'd come crying to him and telling him how I kept hearing that he was cheating—he'd hold me so tight to him that I would almost pass out and he'd just keep whispering over and over "Fuck them in the ass, Leah. Fuck 'em where it hurts because they damn sure don't deserve to do it to you." And I believed him.

Until he stopped.

One day, completely out of the blue, he told me that it was over. Claiming that it was too much, he suggested that we see other people. At first it didn't exactly register for me, like when your phone isn't working you kind of pause and think for a moment—you don't just chuck it at the wall. You wait it out, try to get it fixed by somebody, right? Well it was kind of like that for me. I told myself that I'd wait for him, however long it took. Brady, Landon and Kendra began to act weird around me and Ford though. They were always angry, always picking fights with Ford or yelling at him to the point where he'd blow up and leave us. I, with a raw and bleeding heart, would run after him and try to calm him down, but I stopped when he started yelling at me for no reason at all.

And now it's all over. Ford left us and began to hang out with the football players and cheerleaders while Landon, Kendra, Brady and I remained close. Throughout it all, I pretended that I was okay without him but I knew and I'm sure that they knew that I would never truly be over him. Whenever I see him my heart aches. Whenever I smell him I want to cry. Whenever I think of the things we did together my entire body shakes and feels like it's about to explode.

But as my shaking fingers begin to play the beginning chord of the chorus, I don't dare back down from the lyrics.

"But now there's no where to hide / Since you pushed my love aside / I'm out of my head / Hopelessly devoted to you / Hopelessly devoted to you / Hopelessly devoted to you"

The words exactly express my feelings. There's no way I'll ever be over Ford, and I do feel like a fool because there's no doubt in the world that I'm devoted to him hopelessly and irrevocably. I'm still waiting for him, and I always will be, but it just sucks so much to see him walking the halls with other girls and other friends who seem so much closer to him than me and the others ever were. It's just not right, and not fair, but I try not to think too negatively on the subject as I finish the song and the final chord rings through the auditorium.

I'm just about to start eating my lunch when I hear a squeak from brand new sneakers from stage right. I look up, and feel my heart stop in my chest as Ford slowly makes his way over to the piano.

"You sound great." Ford smiles at me, his hand stroking the piano in a way that makes me jealous because I know how that piano feels—being touched by Ford is a blessing from God. "Then again, you've always sounded great, Leah."

I look away, feeling as if I don't deserve to look at his handsome face or his luminescent brown eyes. "Thanks." I murmur while fidgeting with my hands in my lap. Then, with a little more confidence, I look back up at him and smile softly. "You know how I love my Grease."

"I know." Ford smiles. My heart melts into mush and puke as he gets closer to me, so close that I can see the small amount of stubble growing on his chin and cheeks. It's cute—like fluff growing on a newborn duck.

The silence that follows is enough to drive me insane. Here I am, with the boy who I've been dying to talk to since sophomore year and I can barely hold a conversation. Honestly, no wonder he broke up with me. I'm a pathetic excuse for a friend and a girlfriend, and I don't deserve anyone nearly as amazing as Ford. But through my mental battle, I'm still able to speak—though meek and quavering, "What're you doing here, Ford?"

"I knew you'd be here." Ford scoots beside me onto the piano stool until our knees touch, and he gently wraps my hand in his. "Some things never change." He murmurs before planting a chaste kiss onto the back of my hand, sending wavelengths of warmth and euphoria through my veins and into my heart. "And thankfully, you're one of the things that I don't mind changing."

"Ford ... " I sigh shakily, using my free hand to tuck away a few locks of chocolate hair behind my ear.

"Leah," He grips my other hand and places them both in his lap on top of his thigh. "Why are you thinking so much, huh?" Ford smiles, slowly leaning forward until his lips graze my neck. "Just ... relax a little bit."

"W-What?" The words blurt out of me, and so does my actions as I slip my hands from Ford's grasp and abruptly scoot away from him.

The smile slowly drops from Ford's handsome face, and I feel my heart sink as he slowly scoots off of the stool and stands up. No, not again. He can't leave me again, he can't just walk out of my life like he found it so easy to do less than a year ago. "F-Ford wait." I quickly stand up from the stool, slamming down on a few piano keys in the process, and briskly walking to keep up with Ford's strides before he completely exits the stage.

Ford slowly turns around and sighs while throwing his hands up into the air. "I don't know what you want from me, Leah. I'm here trying to-to talk to you and you don't even seem to care."

"I do care." I quickly attempt to assure him. "I just ..." I shake my head, already hating myself for how much I've always manages to fuck everything up. "I don't deserve you."

If I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry, that promise would officially have been broken because of the hot tears cascading down my face. I wish that Ford didn't have this power of me but it's inevitable. I'm weak and typical and pathetic, someone that is no where near good enough for someone as amazing and wonderful as Ford. So maybe that's why I feel so much like crap right now. Maybe that's why I can't stop crying and my throat feels like it's slowly constricting.

And maybe that's why when I finally look up from the ground, Ford Turner is gone.

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a u t h o r s n o t e:

other than that, see you on the flip side (-: