My feet won't move no matter how much I try. It's cemented to the ground, slowing sinking into it like it's plunged into quicksand. My heart sinks with it too.

Vivian and Vincent are surrounded by a huge flood of people, staring amazed and excited as Vivian asks Vincent to go to the Winter Formal with her. Vivian has never been one to make the first move since guts naturally flock to her, so it's no wonder why people are so shocked by this. Not to mention, they're the couple everyone has been expecting for the entire year.

My nose burns like when I accidentally sniffed pool water into my nostrils as a kid. It tingles and burns, crawling up into the inner corners of my eyes and I'm forced to blink back the salt. My chest doesn't even rise from my huffs of air, making me wonder if I'm even breathing. My heads become shady and heavy, the sound of a radio without signal forces it's way tint my head and vibrates my ear drums from inside. Why am I like this?

I take out my phone and scroll through Sunday's text messages and read over Vivian's text one again for hundredth time.

Vivian: Hey, I'm sorry about everything. Do you think we can just make up and be friends?

Me: Yeah, of course. You shouldn't be sorry. Everything was my fault.

Vivian: Yeah, but I had some responsibility too. I should've just asked Vincent out myself. So, I'm going to Monday.

Ouch. So it is my fault. I blamed myself, but knowing Vivian thought the same, stung.

Me: Okay.

I'm not as relieved as I thought I would be. This was what I wanted, for Vivian to forgive me and for her to be able to get with Vincent. But, my chest feels like it had giant rubber bands constricting it. A foreign feeling of indignation started to rise from me. For once, I feel a slight tinge of anger towards her. I force myself to suppress it and pretend I'm okay with everything.

The crowd roars as Vincent accepts, his voice so quiet I'm surprised anyone could hear. My heart drops to the ground and the quicksand, without hesitation, swallows it whole. Vivian dives in to hug him, his arms in the air, not knowing what to do with them. His eyes meet mine through the sea of students, and I plaster a fake smile onto my face. He smiles back, him arms dropping limply to his sides. Vivian pulls away confused why Vincent didn't hug her back. She follows his gaze and lands on me. Before a scowl can grow onto her face, I smile her at and leave in the other direction.

The snow forced me to sit inside for lunch. I regret it. Freezing in the snow for thirty minutes couldn't have possibly been worse than this.

After school, I have tor trudge through a foot of snow, lots of it getting into my shoes and soaking my socks in icy water. With every step I can hear the crackling of snow under my shoes and the squishing of my damp socks. Vincent's car crawls up on the side of the rode, stopping a few yards ahead of me and his window rolls down.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" Vincent asks, poking his head out.

"Don't you have track practice?"

"No, its Winter. The season's already over."

"Oh..."

"I thought we established that I drive you home everyday. Plus, you still have to tutor me."

"You don't need help with math anymore."

"I need help with biology."

"I suck at biology."

"You have an A in the class."

"Fine," I cave, partly because my feet are freezing, but mainly due to an urge I can't pin-point. Once I saw Vincent, I just wanted to stay and talk with him. If I didn't, I probably would regret it for the rest of the day.

I slide myself into the passenger seat and toss my backpack in the back. Vincent suddenly unbuckles himself and climbs out of the car.

"What's wrong?" I follow him with my eyes as he rounds around the front of the car and goes to my side, swinging the door open. He kneels down and starts to untie my shoes. I'm shocked, my feet flinching, but Vincent pulls in back towards him and takes off my sodden sneakers.

"Jeez, Wendy. Why did you let your feet get so wet? Don't you know what boots are for?"

"I don't have any."

"You live in a state with snow and you don't bother to invest in boots?" Vincent sighs. He takes off my socks too.

"I can do it myself."

"You won't. Obviously since you've been walking in snow with cold feet."

"Thanks," I say sheepishly.

"You're welcome. Just don't let anyone take off your shoes but me," Vincent jokes. At least think he was joking.

While he's still on the passenger side, he draws the seat belt and buckles me in. He stretches himself so his head reaches over my left shoulder, and I can see his back flex as he hovers over. I take in a sharp breath of air, and hold it until Vincent stands up. He smiles, happy with his accomplishments and returns to the driver seat. Instead of driving me home, Vincent takes a u-turn and goes the opposite direction.

"I thought you wanted to study for biology."

"We can do that tomorrow." While he's driving, I have no clue where we could be going. At first, I thought it was the usual stop by a fast-food chain for fries or for ice cream. However, he drives past them. Then, I thought we were running errands, like picking up his little sisters' tutu and his dad's suit from the dry cleaners. We pass that too.

"You looked like the talk of lunch today," I say.

"Yeah... I guess."

"Don't sound so indifferent. You got yourself a nice date for the Winter Formal."

"I would've rather gone with a friend."

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen you around your friends lately," I change the subject, realizing it was starting to pain me to think about the Winter Formal.

"Are you going?"

"Huh?"

"To the formal."

"Oh, me? No. I don't like that kind of stuff."

"Did-did... Did a guy ask you?" Vincent stutters.

"Of course not!" I laugh. "No one would ask me."

"I would," Vincent pipes up. I pause, my stomach fluttering. Quick, say something!

"Of course you would. You're my friend. But we should just stick to hanging out by eating."

I must've said something wrong, because Vincent's face drops and he refocuses on the road. Finally, Vincent stops in front of a movie theater.

"A movie on Monday?" I raise my eyebrow.

"I'm a rebel."

"I forgot my money at home."

"I have money."

"I'm not going to keep letting you pay for everything. i don't like leeching off of people."

"I'm not 'people'. I'm your best friend," he argues playfully.

"Who said you're my best friend?" I tease.

"I have a feeling."

I scoff and laugh at him. we leave our stuff in the car and head inside. I manage to cough up fifteen bucks after ransacking my backpack, so I pay for a large popcorn, two drinks, and two soft pretzels. I would've bought more, but that's all my fifteen dollars could manage. Even with that amount, I probably wont get through the movie trailers before the movie even starts.

There were limited showings since it was weekday. Surprisingly, the animated one was completely sold out since it just came out, along with the action one Vincent wanted to see. That just left us with one we never heard of before, and two that had been advertising trailers we knew. Out of those two, one was a romance, and the other, a horror movie.

"Maybe we should go with the other one since you can't handle a horror movie," Vincent suggest.

No, it would be too awkward-- two friends who have a slightly ambiguous relationship watching a romance together.

"Let's see the horror one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, haunted houses are physical so it creeped me out, but a movie can't be that scary."

"Whatever you want," Vincent agrees and buys two tickets.

The theater is already filled with a lot of people, since Vincent and I came a little late. The movie preview was already starting to end. The middle section, as expected, was already filled out. Thrill seekers sat in the front for maximum immersion and fear. I pull Vincent towards the back, relieved. If it wasn't for the fact most seats were already filled, I couldn't have made an excuse to hide my fear and regret of picking a horror movie.

I nervously munch on the popcorn as the movie starts. At first, its not bad, but I was still scared. The exposition mainly consisted of an eerie setting and some introduction of the characters and circumstances. However, Vincent didn't pay much attention to it and entertained himself with my nervous facial expressions while he ate his pretzel. Then, bam! A jump scare. I flinch and some popcorn jump out of the container I'm holding. Vincent can't contain his laughter as he clasps his hands over his mouth. The music turns up as the protagonist runs away from her pursuer. I panic and shield my face with the bucket of popcorn. There's some shuffling beside me, but I don't dare to look. My eyes are shut tight and I try to cancel out the screams and booming sounds.

Vincent takes the bucket away from me and places it in between his thighs. I use my hands instead to shield my eyes. I feel Vincent's hand over my head and he pulls me down to lean on his shoulders. My conscience tells me to pull away, to resist. Wendy, he's going to the Winter Formal with Vivian. Isn't this cheating? Aren't you only his friend? A shriek from the theater speakers scares away my hesitation and I drive my face between the seat and the back of Vincent's right shoulder. I'm in the back corner, so now one notices me squeamishly hiding.

Vincent bend down, whispering in my ear, "We can leave if you want."

"No, you paid for these tickets. We shouldn't waste money."

"Fine, here just eat." Vincent hand me my pretzel and I accept it. As I eat, I stiffen up everything there's a loud sound. Vincent's hand clamps over my ear that's turned towards the movie screen.

I feel my ears and cheek burn up. At least its dark, so Vincent can't see my glowing red face. I can't suppress the ambiguous feelings I'm experiencing. I can't control my emotions. I sit everyday in class, with a face of a dead fish as I take notes. I can fake interest as my friends shop for the pair of jeans. I can handle the boring dinner conversations between Wren and my dad about the sports game. I can look past any disagreements with my friends. I can hide any feelings I don't want to show. But, with him, its different. I'm so confused. I don't know what to feel or how I feel. I can't do anything about how I feel. Vincent Miller, you're my weakness.