The Breakup Artist

by Shannen Crane Camp

  David kissed me good-bye as the bell rang, and then I made my way to math. With only one class today, I actually felt like I might be able to handle the workload. Everything felt completely perfect. Too perfect. This should have been my first warning signal, but because I’d never experienced true happiness, I wasn’t anticipating a change of course. Real life throws you curve balls, and mine was coming fast. I was about to discover that in “normal” life, just when things start to look up and you become comfortable, things fall apart when you least expect it. Of course, being the social virgin that I was, I blissfully went about, enjoying my comfort zone, not knowing that the “falling apart” phase was lurking just around the corner.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I approached my locker after school, ready to deposit my math book and spend a lovely afternoon with David when I noticed a girl standing there. She wore stylish clothes that just reeked of designer labels. I suspected that she hadn’t spent less than $100 on jeans in her life. Her hair was dyed blonde in the way that actually made you wonder if it was dyed or natural. That color had definitely come from a salon and not from a bottle.

  I approached the girl warily, sure she was there to give me a job, or maybe tell me that I’d been switched at birth and her incredibly rich parents had decided to take me back under their wing as their own, pay for my college, buy me a new car, and generally make my life easy. That wasn’t the case.

  “Amelia Bedford?” she asked in a way that made her sound like a CSI agent trying to approach a murderer for questioning without scaring them off.

  “Yes,” I answered apprehensively.

  “I’m Rachel McKlintock,” she said, as if that name should mean a lot to me. It did ring a bell, of course. Everyone in school knew Rachel McKlintock’s parents were something like the fourth wealthiest people in the state. This was quite a feat in California, if you take into account that it’s where all the movie stars live. No one really knew why the McKlintocks had so much money, but that didn’t really matter. If you’re rich, you’re rich.

  “Okay,” I said, still wondering why someone like Rachel McKlintock was approaching me.

  “I have a job for you. I need to—”

  “Oh no . . . sorry, I don’t do that anymore,” I said definitely. I didn’t even want to let her get any further than that into her speech, or I just might not be able to say no.

  “Since when?” she asked, the perfect picture of indignity. After all, she was Rachel McKlintock. Shouldn’t everyone fall at her feet, ready to serve her?

  “Since two hours ago,” I said, waving her aside so I could get into my locker. She didn’t budge . . . not that I had really expected her to.

  “Well, what if I told you I was willing to pay a bit more than you normally charge?” she said. I knew she was going to say that, which was exactly why I didn’t want her to go on talking. I groaned and looked around to make sure David wasn’t there to witness this moment of weakness. It wasn’t that I was actually considering listening to her proposal, but if she was going to throw it at me, I didn’t have much of a choice. I could just refuse anyway.

  “I’ll give you five hundred dollars,” she said, waiting for my reaction to this. My reaction was just what she likely had expected it to be. My eyes grew wide, and I stared at her in disbelief. “Here’s the thing,” she went on, not waiting for me to speak, “I’ve been dating this boy Alex because he’s rich.” Well, that was extreme honesty—at least she was able to admit it. “I guess he’s cute and everything, but I’m just not that into him anymore. But my mom is so obsessed with me marrying him because if our families were joined by marriage it’ll make her look good at the country club or something bogus like that.” I suddenly felt like I was back in the Victorian period where someone was promised to someone else because his or her parents thought it was a good idea. I didn’t have any pity for Rachel, though. Somehow she just wasn’t exactly a pitiable person.

  “So break up with him,” I said, pointing out the obvious, for which I was sure she’d have a great excuse as to why this was impossible.

  “My mom won’t let me. I’ve told her a million times that I don’t like Alex anymore, but she just doesn’t get it. Unless he leaves me for someone, there’s just no way I can get out of this. Even Daddy won’t listen to me.” She pouted slightly at this. Oh poor girl, even daddy wouldn’t listen. How horrible her life must be.

  “I’m really sorry about your . . . uh . . . situation, but I just can’t help you. I’m quitting the business. Sorry.” I tried once again to get into my locker, and she blocked me once more. This ritual was truly becoming old, and I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised my eyebrows at the girl before me, almost asking for a reason to forcibly remove her from my locker.

  “You seriously won’t just take this one job for five hundred dollars?” she asked me, wondering why I was being so unreasonable in the face of so much money. Honestly, I was wondering that exact same thing, but I couldn’t take the job after I swore to David that I wouldn’t. That would make me just like all of the other girls I’d helped in the past. It would make my word cheap and our relationship and the trust it was built off of even cheaper.

  “I seriously won’t,” I responded, matching her whiny yet authoritative tone. I turned to walk away, figuring I could live with keeping my math book in my backpack until tomorrow, when the girl grabbed me by the arm. I hate when people do that. It made me feel like a child being scolded. “What?” I shouted at her, causing her to jump a bit and heads to turn for just a second.

  “One thousand,” she said simply, and I wondered if I was hearing her correctly. I could have sworn she had just offered to give me one thousand dollars to break up with her boyfriend. It was a job that would probably take a day. I looked around me once more to see if David was nearby. Knowing him, he would be waiting by my car just so he could spend a few extra minutes with me. David. My wonderful, trusting boyfriend who helped me out when I needed him most. The one who wouldn’t think I’d go back on my word because I’d promised him I’d stop my business. He was nowhere to be found, and I was pretty sure I was just about to sell my soul to the devil. And the devil was tapping her very expensive shoe on the concrete floor impatiently.

  I pulled a blank fact sheet out of my backpack, having never gotten around to throwing them all away, and handed it to her. “Email me with this information and your phone number and don’t come to school tomorrow. Fake sick,” I said, feeling pretty scummy. I didn’t think even David could argue with doing just one more job when it was paying so well. But did that mean I should tell him and risk having to give the job up?

  “I’ll bring you the money on Monday,” she said matter-of-factly, as if $1,000 was like pocket change. I nodded wordlessly and watched her walk to the school parking lot. I knew I was lower than scum, but I just couldn’t seem to think clearly. In the face of such an offer what else was I supposed to do? But should I expect David to understand that, or should I just keep it to myself on the off chance that he’d react badly?

  I walked to my car dismally and sure enough David was waiting there, his face lighting up as he saw me approaching.

  “What took you so long?” he asked, pulling me against him. He kissed my neck, making me feel worse and worse about my decision with every wonderful thing he said or did. “Do you want to come over to my house today? I kind of want you to meet my parents.” On any other day that should have made me feel magnificent, but as it was I just felt like it was a knife in my heart.

  “Actually, I’m not feeling too well . . . and I’ve got a lot of math homework, so I think I’m just going to go home and work on that,” I said monotonously. David looked at me with concern and I knew what he was about to ask. “I’m fine. I’m just a little worn out. I think I’ll probably finish up my math and just go to bed early.” He kept his eyes trained on mine, the worry still evident. “Really. I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?” He nodded and gave me a quick kiss before walking to his car
, and I made my way home feeling pretty bad about myself.

  ☼☼☼

  I woke up the next morning with blonde hair and a relatively good idea of how I was going to get rid of Alex Swensen. The fact sheet Rachel had emailed the night before read:

  Name—Alex Swensen

  Age—18

  POI—Parties, Travel, Tennis

  Deadline—One week

  Though this description of Alex was fairly predictable and extremely stereotypical of what I’d always thought rich kids were like, it gave me something to go off of. For style I’d just copy Rachel and hope that Alex was relatively dim as far as conversation went. If he started talking about Italy or nineteenth-century European art, I was screwed. My wardrobe for the day consisted of a purple, sleeveless, high collared Victorian style top with ruffles down the front and a short black pleated skirt. I wore plain black flats on my feet and a sparkly purple rhinestone bracelet to tie the whole thing together. I pulled my bangs back on top of my head then pushed them forward with some bobby pins to give it that “rock star poof” (as I always called it) and curled the rest so that it fell in natural-looking ringlets around my face.

  The effect was pretty flattering, but I wasn’t sure what David would make of it. Through all of my plotting and planning the night before, I still hadn’t come up with a way to keep David out of the picture. I thought that maybe if I could just stay away from our normal spot, he wouldn’t even know I was at school. I had called him the night before and told him that I was starting to feel really sick and that I wouldn’t be in school the next day. It was the exact same thing I was sure Rachel was doing at that moment. My only hope for pulling this off was that David wouldn’t be looking for a blonde, and so hopefully he wouldn’t be able to spot me. Another little detail that worked in my favor was the fact that Rachel and Alex apparently hung out by the tennis courts near the football field, far away from the library. I could use the south entrance instead of the east entrance so that I wouldn’t run into David at all.

  Though I felt like scum for deceiving him, I somehow figured that it was better that he never know rather than having him find out and get hurt. Obviously it would be better for me that way, but somehow it had to be better for him as well.

  I drove to school, leaving myself just enough time to park in the side parking lot and barely make it to my class on time. I didn’t want to run the risk of seeing David in the hallway on the way to class. I’d also have to remember to wait for a few minutes after the bell rang to make my way to the tennis courts, just in case he decided to loiter around the hallways today.

  Miss Tess seemed to take note of my drastic change in style during psychology, but said nothing, as I knew she would. She had observed my happiness in the last few days and had made a few cryptic remarks about how love was in the air, but now she just stayed behind her desk and eyed me suspiciously from time to time. When the bell rang, I made a process of putting my things in my black leather purse and checking my appearance in a little hand mirror until Miss Tess actually had to kick me out of her class.

  The tennis courts were nearby, and I wondered as I walked if Alex would have a group of friends with him or if he and Rachel hung out at the courts alone. If he was alone it would be much easier to get the job done, but I was used to having to work around friends, so either way I’d be fine. When I turned the corner to the brick wall separating the pool from the rest of the school I saw a blond boy walk by me. I thought for a split second that it was David and instantly lowered my gaze to the ground, though I knew I was just being paranoid.

  Just as Rachel had promised, I found Alex at the tennis courts with a few male friends. I tried to ready myself for the upcoming job, but found that I had no desire for the tasks that I used to find at least mildly amusing. This really had become work for me. If I hadn’t been lying to David about it, I was sure it would at least feel a bit more like it used to, but the new added layer of deception was taking its toll on my conscience. Still, I had gotten this far and it was too late to go back, so I made myself walk those few last steps to the group of boys. I put on an alluring smile for the tall, dark, and handsome boy in front of me.

  Because I’d have to get Alex to break up with Rachel, I’d have to play this differently than all of my other conquests. I made no reference to Rachel as I shamelessly flirted with the boy before me. I simply told him that I had gotten lost looking for one of my classes because I was new and tragically not used to the discomforts of the public school system. This, of course, got him wondering about my background. I then hinted at my rich parents and good upbringing, all the while laying on the charm and completely ignoring his love-struck friends. This made him feel special, as I knew it would, but by the end of break he still hadn’t made a move.

  I was glad I wouldn’t have to worry about the complexity of explaining to David that I had taken a job but I was slightly disappointed that Alex hadn’t taken the bait enough to choose me over Rachel. I reasoned that, because it was a different type of job, it would take longer than my usual routine of breaking the news and cushioning the blow.

  The routine at lunch followed much in the same pattern that the break time scene had. We flirted, he implied that he was single without coming right out and saying it, and I continued to get him interested in me. By the end of the day, I had still come up short, and I wondered if maybe Alex had to actually break up with Rachel before making a move on me because of his parents. It hadn’t struck me before that these kids actually had an image to maintain. I guess I had just figured that because they were rich kids, they’d behave like spoiled celebrities who did stupid and scandalous things just to get noticed.

  With this reassurance firmly in place, I walked to my car, thinking I’d give Alex the weekend to stew over my offer. I’d just get his number from Rachel and text him, hinting that I was really craving good company at a nice restaurant. It was my fatal flaw to assume everything would work itself out and so, I shouldn’t have been at all surprised to see David leaning against my car, looking like he could murder someone.

  I approached him cautiously, like a child who had dirtied their new and expensive Sunday clothes. He didn’t say anything when I reached him, but he simply stared at me, a mixture of disbelief, anger, and hurt on his beautiful face. I didn’t know what to say, though I knew I owed him some sort of explanation. My embarrassment flooded together with my stupid pride, telling me that I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone. I looked down at the ground, refusing to speak first, and biting my lip to keep from telling him how sorry I was. How much I wanted to keep him in my life. How stupid it was of me to take on another job after promising I wouldn’t. How much it hurt me that I’d lied to him. How I wanted him to forgive me and forget the whole thing.

  Of course, I said none of that and just continued to stare at the ground. He looked for a moment as if he might say something, but then shut his mouth and walked away without a word, his face a mask of disappointment and sadness. The wetness on my cheeks served as a cruel reminder of my own stupidity. It seemed like I had been crying a lot that week.

  Chapter Nineteen

  David didn’t come to pick me up for our date that night, though I wasn’t sure if I had really expected him to. What I did expect was an angry phone call or email. I expected an angry anything, really. Anything would have been better than the silence I experienced that Friday night. My mother was out, as usual, and I was beginning to wonder if she was just going to stay at some other house now that we’d had our little encounter. The house was completely empty and silent, just like my life. I had tried to call David several times, but he never picked up. I left at least four messages telling him I was sorry and that if he’d just let me talk to him I could explain everything, but it seemed like no matter what I did, he didn’t feel compelled to call me back.

  Saturday passed much in the same way. I saw my mother briefly in the kitchen as she was on her way out the door. She gave me a little nod of her head by way of a greeting but sa
id nothing. I had finished my homework for the entire weekend the night before, which left me with absolutely nothing to do. I tried to paint, but found that I couldn’t think of a single thing that would make me feel better.

  After hours of sitting around staring at my paints, I picked up the phone and called Rachel.

  “Hello?” said a groggy voice. It was almost one in the afternoon, so the fact that Rachel was still sleeping was quite a feat.

  “Hey, it’s Amelia,” I said dully. “I was just wondering if Alex has broken up with you yet.” Under any other circumstances that sentence would have sounded incredibly rude and out of place, but as it stood, it was really the only reason I could be calling Rachel.

  “Not yet. He hasn’t called me all weekend though, so I’m assuming that’s a good sign. Maybe he’s thinking it over and trying to find a way to let me down easy.” She laughed at this, though I didn’t see what was so amusing about it. “Anyways, if he doesn’t call me on Sunday, I’ll just ditch school Monday to give you another chance at getting him to do it. After that, I’m rescinding my offer.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” I said unenthusiastically.

  “I figured you would,” she said, and then the line went dead. I was beginning to notice that none of my clients seemed to posses the ability to say “good-bye” to end their phone conversations. They all just kind of hung up. Maybe it was because in their eyes I was more like the hired help—more like a vending machine than a human being. I ran my fingers through my blonde, messy hair, fully aware that I hadn’t brushed it that morning, and searched through the contact list on my phone. I now had six numbers saved rather than just five, though it didn’t make much of a difference, since that sixth number wouldn’t answer my calls.