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42

“At least I didn’t wake up in the wrong bed.” I came around the front of the car, crossing my arms.

“Luce,” he said, pausing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I warned, “and don’t try to make me out to be dumb. You fooled me for a while, good for you, but not anymore.”

“Hey,” he said, lifting his hands and walking towards me. “What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?” He tried wrapping his arms around me, but I shoved him away.

“I can answer both those questions with one word,” I said, glowering at him. “Holly.”

His eyes widened for the shortest second. “What about Holly?”

I huffed, trying not to look at his eyes. I could achieve a higher degree of anger if I didn’t look into them. “I’ve arrived at my own conclusions about Holly, but why don’t you tell me your story? Because I’m sure it’s an interesting one.”

He wrapped his hands around his neck, looking up. “Holly is my friend.”

I laughed. “A friend who invites you into her trailer with a baby on her hip? A friend who greets you with a pretty little dress and spreads her legs for you later? After the baby’s tucked in of course.”

“You were there last night,” he said, almost to himself. “I had this feeling, like you were right there. Turns out I was right,” he said, looking straight through me.

“Yeah, damn right I was there last night,” I said, “and I saw everything.”

“And why were you there?” he asked, staying calm. “Why did you follow me?”

“Because someone had been telling me for weeks now you and Holly were having this thing behind my back, but I ignored it because I thought I could trust you.” I paused, biting my tongue because I was too close to crying. I couldn’t let him see he’d caused me that kind of pain. “Boy, was I never so wrong about anything in my life.”

“Let me get this straight because you’re talking like a crazy woman right now and I have a tough time following that dialect.” Jude exhaled. “Someone told you Holly and I were getting it on behind your back? Someone told you where she lived and where I was banging her brains out?” he asked, shifting his weight. “And you believed them?” His voice wavered, like he was hurt, but he didn’t fool me. This kind of man had perfected his acts, all his acts, in order to juggle multiple women.

“I’m glad I did,” I answered. “Turns out I was right.” The parking lot was filling up and we were catching more attention that I wanted.

“Who told you about Holly?”

“That doesn’t matter,” I said, glaring at a group of girls trying to get within hearing distance.

“Trust me, when it comes to Holly, it does matter.” He was defending her, to me. I needed to get angrier.

“Sawyer told me, okay?” I said.

Jude’s face shadowed, his jaw straining. “Sawyer Dickhead Diamond told you I was cheating on you with Holly,” he paused, swallowing. “And you believed him?” His face was pained, like he was cut as deep as pain could go.

I bit my cheek and nodded.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Why hadn’t I just asked him? It was a question I hadn’t asked myself yet, and it was one I couldn’t answer. So I made something up. “Because you would have lied.”

His eyes closed, his head sagging. “So you trust Sawyer more than you trust me?”

Yesterday, that would have been answered with a hell, no but today I wasn’t sure, so I let my head answer for me with one sad nod.

“Then I guess there’s nothing left to say,” he said, not looking at me.

“Oh there’s plenty more to say,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Sounds like there’s just one thing to say,” he said, shifting his weight, staring at me like he didn’t recognize me.

I knew that’s where this whole thing was leading, but I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t say it yet.

“Don’t worry about me, babe. I’ve seen so many backs walking away from me that this is old hat,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t killing him like it was me. “Say it,” he said, his voice shaking.

I bit my cheek. I wanted answers, explanations.

“Say it!” he yelled, charging forward, the sinews of his neck bursting through his skin.

I swallowed and closed my eyes. “Bye, Jude.” Turning away, I jogged across the parking lot, warning myself not to look back.

I rarely heeded my warnings, as this whole Jude mess had proven.

Glancing back, I found him standing in the same spot, frozen in place. And then he turned and walked away.

The excited buzz of a Friday morning echoed down the hall when I weaved through the metal detectors. Everyone acted like nothing had happened, like my world hadn’t just been flopped on its face. It was just another day for them, when my days felt like they were ending.

I stood there, unable to move. A river of students shuffled by me, some ignorant to me feeling like I was standing on the ledge of the world, about to jump, and others staring at me over their shoulders like I was an exhibit at the zoo.

“OMG, Lucy!” Taylor said, popping up beside me. “What was that out there with you and Jude? Did you guys just break up? Did he just drop out? He just walked off the school grounds and kept going. What is going on?” she asked, shaking my arm, streaming another wave of questions I wasn’t able to process. “Lucy,” she said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “What is with you?”

I was suffocating, really suffocating. I had asthma as a child, nothing real serious, but I outgrew it before middle school. Or I thought I’d outgrown it. My lungs felt like deflated balloons I couldn’t fill and my breaths came in short, panicked bursts. I couldn’t be here right now, I couldn’t do this.

I needed a way out of this mess I’d found myself in.

A hand grabbed mine from behind, spinning me around. “Let’s get you out of here,” Sawyer said, pulling me under his arm and guiding me back out the door.

“Sawyer, what the hell’s going on?” Taylor shouted after us.

“Put a clamp on it, Taylor,” he muttered, shoving the door open.

The fresh air helped right away. My breathing slowed as my lungs filled to half capacity. A tear finally slipped free.

“I’ve got you,” Sawyer said, squeezing my arms as he led me to his shiny white car in the front row. He guided me into the car, snapped my seatbelt into place, and reclined the seat.

I covered my eyes with my forearms, letting another tear escape.

Sawyer crawled in beside me, fired the engine, and flew out of the parking lot. He rolled down my window, allowing another rush of air to fill my lungs. I was almost breathing normally again.

“Thank you,” I said after a while. I didn’t know where we were going, I was beyond caring, but I didn’t care as long as it was in the opposite direction of Southpointe.

“Yeah,” he replied, blowing out a breath, “it was kind of the least I could do since I was the one responsible for you feeling the way you are.”

“How are you responsible for me feeling like crap?”

“Because I was the one that told you about Holly,” he said, turning down a gravel driveway.

I stiffened at the name. “You weren’t the one screwing her.”

Sawyer chuckled tightly. “Not that I recall.”

Rolling to a stop, I removed my forearms and sat up. “Are you busting into Bon Jovi’s or something?” I asked, looking at the McMansion in front of us. It was on the lake, but unlike the cabins that lined the rest of the lake, this was a cabin on steroids.

“This is my place,” he said with a shrug, shoving open the door.

I didn’t move; I hadn’t anticipated Sawyer would take me to his place. This didn’t feel right—showing up at another guy’s place during school hours thirty minutes after I’d broken up with my cheating boyfriend. If this got out, in addition to the slutty girl known for giving a guy head in between classes, I’d also be labeled a rebound opportunist.

42
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