You and Chris were an awesome couple. Him -- the popular youtuber frat boy, who everyone loved. And you-- the loud, smart, funny girl, who even people who hated you couldn't stop themselves from laughing at your jokes. You loved each other a lot. But everyone told you that you were just high-school sweethearts.

Maybe you were. Maybe the way that he would climb into your window at night was temporary. Maybe the way his hand would casually slip from your waist to your ass even in public would be temporary. Maybe movie nights, dates, and all that stuff-- would be temporary.

But here you were, prom night, and everything was going well. Oh, except for the fact that you two got into a car crash at the end. Wait-- let's backtrack.

Chris had borrowed his dad's car, put on cologne, and even an impressive suit. Just to impress you. It seemed like you had the same idea, considering you came in a gorgeous dark blue dress that would only look good with a gorgeous face to match it.

You both danced and everything, had a great time, but on the drive home, you ended up getting into an argument. The worst one you've had ever.

Things were said that neither of you meant. Some things were said that you did mean. But overall-- feelings were hurt. Chris ended up getting so mad that he sped up, even though you yelled at him many times to slow down. I mean, why would a 17 year old slow down anyway? He was just angry.

But a semi-truck came, he swerved off the road, and hit a pole. Yes, a pole. So your head was bleeding, he wasn't injured but he was super worried about you. However, you refused to talk to him. Even as you were being took to the hospital.

A couple weeks later, you still wouldn't talk to him. The worst part of it was that you didn't even break up with him. You were just giving him the silent treatment.

One day, you were grabbing stuff out your locker, before closing it. Seeing Chris behind it, carrying flowers.