by Amanda Abram
“Tired?” Dylan asked.
“Yeah,” I said with a yawn. Closing my eyes, I added, “I haven’t been sleeping well lately because of, well, you know.”
I sat back up and ran a hand through my hair. “I’m just having a hard time getting over this. I’m so mad at Elijah, yet at the same time I miss him. It’s messed up.”
“It’s not.” Dylan closed his laptop and set it down next to mine.
“It is, though. All I can think about is how much he hurt me, and then a second later I’m smiling about something sweet he once said to me, or something thoughtful he did. And then I start to doubt myself. Like, did I overreact? Should I not have broken up with him over this?”
Dylan blinked at me. “Are these rhetorical questions, or do you want actual answers?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what I want.”
We were silent for a moment before Dylan said, “Well, you may not know what you want, but I know what you need.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
A sly grin slowly began to form on his face. “Do you happen to own any yoga pants? Sports bras? Sneakers?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because,” he replied, leaping off the couch, “we’re going to the gym.”
◆◆◆
Dylan’s gym didn’t look like any other gym I’d ever been to. There were no bright colors, no flashy lights, no loud pop music playing over the sound system. There weren’t even any treadmills or stationary bikes or stair climbers for people to use. It was mostly weights-related equipment. A lot of benches. A lot of machines with cables. Dumbbells. Weight plates. I was the only female in there, and all the guys looked like they either just got released from prison or were heading there. They all glanced at me curiously when we walked in, like they were wondering what a girl like me was doing in a place like that.
As soon as we were through the door, Dylan was greeted by a heavily tattooed man with scary-big biceps who was standing behind the counter.
“Yo, Dilly.”
“Hey, Vic,” Dylan returned the greeting. He ignored my snickering at the nickname “Dilly”.
“Who’s your friend?” Vic asked, turning his gaze on me.
“This is Cassie. She’s my plus-one today.”
The man arched a brow. “You never bring plus-ones. What’s the occasion?”
“This girl is in dire need of some therapy,” Dylan said, placing a hand on my shoulder.
A knowing look came over Vic’s face as he nodded. “Understood. Have fun.” With a wink, he turned his attention to the computer monitor in front of him.
I followed Dylan to the far end of the gym, where he stopped, unzipped his gym bag and pulled something out. “Here, these are for you.”
I blinked down at what he was holding out to me. “Boxing gloves?”
“Yep.”
“What are these for?”
“These are for that.” He pointed at a punching bag that was hanging next to us.
“The punching bag?” I shook my head. “No. No thanks.”
“Nonsense. The punching bag is exactly what you need right now.” Dylan grabbed my right hand and forced a glove onto it, and then did the same with my left hand. The gloves were a little too big; they must have been his.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” he said. “I want you to pretend this punching bag is Elijah. Or Hannah. Or both. And I want you to beat the crap out of it, okay? I want you to take out all your aggressions on it.”
I could get on board with that. Eyeing the punching bag, I tried to decide who I wanted to pretend it was first. Hannah was a good choice. She knew better than to make out with someone else’s boyfriend. But Elijah also knew better than to make out with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend, so I was faced with a difficult decision. In the end, I decided to turn the punching bag into a hybrid of the two: Elijannah, the couple nickname their friends had given them when they were together.
No one had ever bothered to give us a couple name. I guess Cassie and Elijah just didn’t go together.
At that thought, I threw my first punch. I wasn’t a violent person, and I’d never used a punching bag before, but as soon as my gloved fist hit the bag, I lost it. I let my rage take over to the point where I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing. I was punching, kicking, pushing—anything that would cause Elijannah harm. The more I replayed the kiss in my head, the more effort I put into my moves.
It only took a couple of minutes to wear me out. Dropping to my knees on the floor, I leaned forward and buried my face in the gloves as I let out a sob.
“Hey,” Dylan said gently, joining me down on the floor. He placed a hand on the side of my face and leaned in. “That was great.”
I sniffled and glanced up to see everyone in the gym had stopped what they were doing and were staring at me. They looked uncomfortable, like they didn’t know how to react to a girl crying in front of them.
“Are you feeling any better?” Dylan asked.
My gaze landed on him. He was staring down at me with an expression of concern mixed with mild amusement.
I nodded. Surprisingly, I did feel better. A lot better. Like a weight had been lifted. I was still hurt and angry, but at least now I didn’t feel like punching anyone in the face anymore.
Dylan stood and held out his hand to help me up. “I knew this would be good for you.”
I took off the gloves, wiped away the tears on my face, and fixed the hair that had fallen out of my hair tie. “Well, what do you know—you were right about something for once.”
He put on his best fake-hurt expression. “That’s rude. I just helped you out and this is how you repay me?”
I smiled as I handed his gloves back to him. “Sorry, Dilly.”
He scowled at my use of his gym nickname, but then returned my smile and tugged on my ponytail. “Are you going to be okay, Briggs?”
The answer to that question wasn’t as simple as I wanted it to be. But at that exact moment, with the adrenaline from beating on the punching bag still running through my veins, I could honestly say with total confidence that while I wasn’t quite there yet, I was going to be okay.
CHAPTER TEN
“You need a rebound relationship,” Lauren said as we headed for the cafeteria the next day.
I shook my head adamantly. “No way. That’s the last thing I need.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve had rebound relationships before. They’re fun and casual, so you don’t have to worry about getting too serious. As long as you’re up front about it with the guy, it’s all good.”
When it came to relationships, Lauren and I were on different pages. I liked long-term, serious relationships, while she preferred short-term, non-committal ones. She had always been a bit boy crazy, and in the six years we’d been best friends, she’d had crushes on at least seventy-five different boys. No exaggeration. She’d only gone on a date with maybe ten of them, but still, that was nine more “relationships” than I’d ever had.
“It’s too soon,” I said. “Elijah and I just broke up three days ago, and I’m not…” I glanced around to make sure he was nowhere near us to overhear me. “I’m not fully over him yet.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes in disapproval. “But Cassie, he cheated on you. He kissed his ex-girlfriend. How can you not be ‘fully over him’ yet?”
Because she’d never been in a serious relationship before, she had no idea that romantic feelings couldn’t just be turned on and off—even when you’ve been cheated on. But I didn’t bother to explain, because she would never understand.
“Hey, what are we talking about?” Dylan asked, appearing out of nowhere. He slipped in between us and threw his arms around each of our shoulders as we continued to walk.
Lauren removed his arm and stepped away from him. “I’m trying to convince Cassie here to start dating again.”
“Already?” Dylan asked with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t it kind of soon?”
“Thank you,” I said. “Th
at’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.”
“Ugh, you are both so clueless,” Lauren said, her voice laced with annoyance. She started to say something else, but an announcement over the intercom interrupted her.
“Cassandra Briggs, please report to the front office.”
The three of us stopped walking. Lauren and Dylan both gave me curious looks.
“What did you do?” Dylan asked with a smirk.
“I didn’t do anything,” I replied. At least, I didn’t think I had done anything that would get me in trouble. “You guys go ahead; I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”
They both nodded as I turned and headed for the front office.
My mind was racing the whole way there. Maybe I wasn’t in trouble. Maybe there was a family emergency and they were relaying a message to me. By the time I entered the office, I was freaking out and had myself convinced that whatever I was being called there for was not a good thing.
“I’m Cassandra Briggs,” I said to the secretary behind the counter. “You just called me down here?”
The woman, Shelley, smiled brightly. “Oh, yes.” She stood, walked over to the corner of the room, and picked up a bouquet of flowers. “Here. These are for you.”
My jaw dropped as I held out my arms to take it. “Huh?”
“It seems you have a secret admirer. These just got delivered here for you. They’re so beautiful.”
They were. The whole bouquet consisted of sunflowers—my favorite—and there was suddenly no doubt in my mind who my “secret admirer” was.
“Thank you,” I said politely.
“No problem.” Shelley sat back down, rested her chin in the palms of her hands and sighed. “Oh, to be young and in love again.”
I had to refrain from frowning. I was young, but I was no longer in love.
I just gave her an awkward smile before exiting the office and literally bumping into my secret admirer himself.
“Hey,” Elijah said hesitantly. “I see you got my flowers.”
“Yep.” My eyes darting down to the floor to avoid his gaze. “Thanks.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Um, there should also be a card in there somewhere.”
“Okay. I’ll look at it later.”
“Cool.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Look, Cassie, I—”
“I should go put these away,” I quickly interrupted, turning on my heel, and heading in the direction of my locker.
I felt a little guilty for leaving him standing there all alone in the hallway. He was trying. I knew that. But flowers weren’t going to magically make everything okay. They weren’t going to erase what he did.
After they were put away, I joined Lauren at an empty table in the cafeteria.
“What was that all about?” she asked, biting into an apple.
“I had a special delivery waiting for me at the front desk,” I replied, taking a seat across from her. “Flowers. From Elijah.”
She blinked in surprise. “Where are they?”
“My locker.” I grabbed a baby carrot off her tray and popped it into my mouth.
“Oh. Well, that’s sweet.”
I just stared at her blankly.
“What?” she asked innocently. “It is.”
I shook my head as I reached for another carrot.
Lauren slapped my hand away. “Get your own food, girl.”
“I’m not hungry,” I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest and slouching back in my chair.
“Then stop stealing my carrots.” She pulled her tray closer to herself. “By the way, we need to continue the conversation we were having before you got called down to the front office.”
“What conversation?” I asked, playing dumb.
“I’m going to find you a rebound boyfriend.”
I sighed. “Laur, I already told you, I have no interest in that.”
“You may think you have no interest in that but listen to me. If you started dating someone new, it would drive Elijah mad.”
“But I don’t want to drive him mad. I have no desire to hurt him or make him jealous. I’m not into playing games.”
“Okay.” Lauren took another bite of her apple. “Then you should just use a rebound to get your mind off him.”
My gaze flickered over to Elijah’s lunch table. It used to be my lunch table too. I would sit there every day with him, Dylan, and a few of their other friends. I always liked sitting with them. They never treated me like just Elijah’s girlfriend; they treated me like one of the guys. Like I was their friend. Now they made it a point to ignore me.
“Fine,” I said with a defeated sigh. “I’ll think about it.”
She smiled brightly. “Really? Because I can easily find someone to go on a date with you. Ooh! We can go on a double date!”
I suppressed a groan. “Fine. But I have one condition for all of this.”
“What’s that?”
“You need to let me know who you want to set me up with before you set me up with him, all right? And if I don’t approve, you need to be okay with that.”
“Okay,” Lauren said. “But there’s no way you’ll disapprove. I promise.”
She winked and flashed me a grin, making me wonder if she already had someone in mind.
And just like that, I was already regretting this decision.
◆◆◆
“So, Elijah and I broke up,” I mentioned casually over dirty dishes later that night.
Mom froze halfway through putting a plate in the dishwasher. “Come again?”
“Elijah and I broke up,” I repeated, handing her another rinsed plate.
She took it, placed it into the dishwasher with the other one, and then stood up straight and asked, “When did this happen?”
“Last Saturday.”
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s no big deal.”
I could see her gaping at me out of the corner of my eye.
“No big deal? Honey, you’ve been obsessed with that boy since last year. What happened?”
I didn’t want to tell her the truth, but my mouth betrayed me as it formed the words, “I caught him kissing Hannah.”
Mom gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Cassie.” She pulled me into a warm embrace that almost—almost—made everything better. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I rested my head on her shoulder. “I was upset at first—still am—but trust me, it didn’t come as a surprise. I’ve been suspecting for a while that he still had feelings for her.”
Mom pulled back and pointed over her shoulder at the vase of sunflowers sitting on the island in the center of the kitchen. “So, those flowers are—”
“Apology flowers,” I finished for her. Truth be told, I’d contemplated leaving them in my locker to die. Or throwing them into the nearest trashcan. But sunflowers were still my favorite flower, and it wasn’t like they had done anything wrong to me. They didn’t deserve such harsh treatment.
“I broke up with him,” I continued. “But he wants to get back together. He said the kiss meant nothing and that I’m the one he wants, not Hannah, but I just don’t think I can trust him right now. You know?”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I do know. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I just wish you had told me sooner. I don’t like the idea of you suffering alone.”
“I haven’t been suffering alone. I’ve had Lauren and Dylan by my side.”
“Well, that’s good, at least.” She smiled and nudged me away from the sink. “I’ll finish up here. Why don’t you go do your homework?”
“Okay.” As I dried my hands on a towel, I could feel her studying me.
“If you want to talk about this, you know I’m here for you, right? If you need help cutting Elijah out of photos, or burning any of the stuff he ever gave you—”
I laughed. “Mom, it’s fine. I don’t have any desire to cut him out of pictures or burn anythi
ng. I’m really doing okay.”
She looked like she didn’t believe me but accepted my answer anyway.
Up in my room, I stared at all the photos of Elijah and me that were stuck to my dresser mirror. Most people liked having all their photos online for the world to see. Me, I liked mine printed out. I liked being able to touch them. To glance at my mirror first thing every morning and see pictures of the boy I loved smiling back at me.
With a scowl, I removed one of the most recent pictures of the two of us. It was taken at a Halloween party a couple months ago. We’d both wanted our costumes to have a couple’s theme, but we each wanted something different. I wanted us to be Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger from Harry Potter. He wanted us to be a football player and a cheerleader. In the end, I caved and let him have his way. Thinking back on it now, I should have questioned his reasoning behind wanting those costumes. By dressing me up like a cheerleader, was he subconsciously (or consciously) trying to make me more like Hannah?
With that thought, I ripped the picture in two. No hesitation. I didn’t want to be a cheerleader that night. The costume was sparse, and I remembered it being so cold outside—where we’d unfortunately spent the greater part of the evening. By the time we left the party, my legs were goosepimply and numb, and I shivered non-stop on the ride home, even with the heat cranked. Elijah never once asked me if I was cold.
With a frustrated sigh, I set the torn photo down next to the card that came with the bouquet.
I still hadn’t read it yet. I didn’t want to.
I didn’t care what was written inside. It could have said how sorry he was. How much he missed me. How much he loved me. How much he wanted me back. It could have said that, if he had to, he would wait until the end of time for me to love him back.
It didn’t matter. The image of him kissing Hannah in the backseat of his car was now forever etched into my brain. I couldn’t just rip it up and throw it away.
Opening the top drawer of my dresser, I placed the card inside and closed it. Maybe someday I would read it, but that someday wasn’t going to be today.
