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I masked it so well, how hurt I was. I did so many things wrong when America came back.
"Don't worry about me," I'd told him. "If you want to go back to America, it's your choice." He'd done exactly what I said to do, dumping me and taking America back as if we hadn't been going out just one day before.
We still spent time with each other. I saw to that. It would hurt too much to be separated from Brady for any reason. I forced myself into being content with my part of best friend, and made myself forget those amazing three days.
America and I became friends, and while she was a kind girl, we didn't really have that much in common. She was so...girly. I hid how much pain it caused me to be near the girl who'd caused Brady, my Brady, such confusion and pain.
And after mine and Brady's first kiss, (clever dare, if I do say so myself) he seemed to notice how my eyes would tighten the tiniest bit at the mention of America and how I stiffened infintismally when he spoke about her in that ad