“No. Well, not exactly. Zoey gave me the address, and I showed up here an hour ago.” I wince at my own words.
He seems baffled, furious, betrayed—don’t forget betrayed. Then his eyes blaze with understanding.
“But your texts… You were here this whole time?”
My words leave me.
I really messed up.
“You were testing me,” he realizes.
Say something! Fix this!
“Yes, I was, but only because I thought you were keeping things from me. Like your mom. You said she was okay. She’s not oka—”
“Don’t talk about her!” he snarls. “I can’t believe it. Do you… Do you even realize what you did? You followed me, spied on me! For fuck’s sake, Kass. Who do you think I am? Your puppet?”
Regret surges inside me.
“It’s not like that, I swear. It’s just… you’re always so closed off. You won’t tell me anything about your life.” The more I try to patch this up, the quicker he slips through my fingers.
I step forward, grasping his face between my hands. “I’m sorry, I messed up.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, fuming, and exhales a deep, self-soothing breath. Helplessness, fear—just two of the many things I’m feeling when I push to my tiptoes and sling my arms around his neck, hugging him with all I have. Not to sway his forgiveness, but because I feel so awful for what he’s had to go through tonight. I need this.
I need to be there for him.
He doesn’t reject me, which is a good sign, but he also doesn’t reciprocate the hug. I don’t care—I’m not letting go.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, holding on tighter.
Something tells me he knows I’m not apologizing for my mistakes. I’m apologizing for life putting him through this hell. How long has his mother been an addict? Since his father took everything and ran? Has he been dealing with this his whole life?
Every single part of me relaxes when he returns my embrace, his arms circling my waist and drawing me flush to his chest. Relief fills me to the brim as he rests his chin atop of my head.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, but his only response is a heavy sigh. Then, stupidly, I add, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Just like that, the spell is broken.
His arms are off me, his body far from mine.
“Are you serious right now?” His face twists in fury. “Maybe because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now. Like I’m a broken toy who needs fixing. Or maybe because this is shit, Kass. My life is shit! All of it. And call me selfish, but I wanted to have one good thing. Just one fucking thing.”
I’m about to blab out another apology, but the devil on my shoulder laughs at me.
Silly, girl, don’t you know?
It’s too late.
“I need you to go,” he says.
My breath catches in my lungs.
I look up at him, searching his eyes for anger, sadness—I’ll take any emotion—but what I see is… emptiness. Pure and total emptiness. It’s like I can physically feel him shutting me out. Closing himself off to me all over again.
“W-What?” I say even though I heard him loud and clear.
“You heard me. I need you to go. Get out of here.”
“Wait, Will, I’m sorry, I just…” My voice cracks. “I just wanted you to let me in.”
“This was a mistake.” He shakes his head. “Go.”
It feels as though there’s a piece of glass lodged in my throat.
“What was a mistake?” My heart swells with pain, and I manage to whisper a shaky “Us?”
He smacks his lips together, tasting the words wanting out of his mouth, fighting an impulse, fighting himself. Finally, he inhales.
“Just go. Please. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“But your mom. She needs help. I—”
“I said fucking go!” He yells so loud I jump back a step.
Will has never really yelled at me before. He’s yelled around me, but never at me. But, right now, he’s had enough. And I’m to blame. He’s right. I need to go.
So, I do.
I nod, cursing the tears forming in my eyes, and walk away. He watches as I trail toward my car. As if he’s making sure that I’m leaving. Like he doesn’t trust me anymore.
I don’t know that I trust me either.
I’m back into my mom’s car within seconds, and as I drive off, I wonder if he was right.
If this was a mistake…
Kassidy
Five days later
“Kass, so help me God, you check your phone one more time, I’m taking it away,” Morgan snaps, interrupting my obsessing with a threat I have no doubt she’ll follow up on.
“Sorry, I’m done,” I promise and power off my phone. I sure wish I could give my feelings the same treatment. How handy would that be?
Heart status: out of order until further notice.
Morgan does have a point. We’re supposed to be having a girls’ night. No boys allowed—not even Ethan. Too bad the blond intruder in my head didn’t get the memo.
It’s been five days since I put my nose where it didn’t belong. Five unbearable days since Will broke up with me—well, I think he broke up with me? Truth is, I have no idea where we stand, but if his radio silence tells me anything, it’s that we’re not in a good place. I haven’t seen him at school once. And I must’ve apologized twenty times.
He hasn’t answered any of my texts.
Not that I deserve any less.
Winter and Kendrick are still MIA, away on a last-minute trip to Canada—or so my mother says. I put on the performance of a lifetime pretending like the two of them disappearing this close to graduation wasn’t sketchy as hell. I’ve also been taking extra shifts at the pet store. It’s not like I have much to do after school anymore.
“Still no news?” Morgan picks up on my disappointment.
“None,” I mutter.
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two? The guy is head over heels into you one second, then the next, he just vanishes. Something doesn’t add up here.”
I wince. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dying to share what happened with her, but that’s not my story to tell.
Just as it wasn’t my story to know.
At least, not yet.
Perhaps if I hadn’t tried to force it out of him, he would’ve told me eventually. But on his own terms.
And when he was ready.
“All I can tell you is I broke his trust,” I say, as vague as I can be. “I fucked up. Bad.”
It’s been five days. Maybe it’s time I take a hint. Stop checking my phone every two seconds. Stop hoping his name will pop onto my screen. In my defense, it’s hard not to think about him. I still have one of his hoodies.
He left it at Morgan’s.
In fact, I’m wearing it right now. I glance down at my outfit. This simple piece of clothing triggers a foreign reaction in me. I strip off the hoodie, grab my phone, and turn it back on while assuring Morgan it’s the last time.
He has every right to never want to talk to me again, but I need closure. I’ll die before recreating my breakup with Blake.