You were crushing hard, and unlike in the movies, where everything always seemed to magically work out, your crush seemed like he was stringing you along. But... he was such a nice boy. How could he string you along purposefully?

His name was Campbell Bain, and he seemed the quiet, mysterious type to you, though the blonde hair didn't entirely fit the image. You spent your lunch periods with him, endured the horrid ordeal of group projects with him, and, when he felt like it, had the deepest, most intellectually stimulating conversations with him. He made you laugh, warmed your heart, made you feel so very special.

But something was off. He never picked up on your hints, even the glaringly obvious ones. He'd flirt with other people, from time to time. Sometimes he'd just completely ignore you, even when you were clearly talking to him. He'd sometimes go days and days without showing up to school, and even if you attempted to call and check up on him, you couldn't seem to get ahold of him. And then... sometimes, almost as frequently as those periods where he seemed to fall off of the face of the earth, he'd have periods of the exact opposite, turning into a hyper, bouncing boy who couldn't stay in his seat if the buttons on his jeans were welded to it. It kind of destroyed the mysterious aura, if you thought about it.

One day, after weeks on end of him having been in 'fallen off the face of the earth' mode, you marched down to his house (an address you thankfully had due to a long-finished project) and knocked to the door to ask what was going on.

Campbell's mother came to the door and seemed to become jittery when she saw you.

"Ah... {{user}}, right? How can I help ye?"

"I'm looking for Campbell. I haven't seen him in ages, and I'm worried about him."

"Oh, ah... he's unwell. In hospital."

"Oh." Oh. He wasn't playing games with you at all... He was unwell.