… and with Becca suddenly around, it really, really seems like he needs it.
I want to give it back to him. So bad. Make him keep it in his pocket, make him wave it in front of his face whenever Becca smiles at him … or goes near him.
CHAPTER 5
Okay, so that ski trip was not the best. In fact, it was the worst, actually. It sort of felt like the beginning of the end for me and Grady. I didn’t mention anything about it to Grady though—that day and how I felt about him and Becca. The whole thing gave me aching knots in my stomach, and I didn’t know how to broach the subject or discuss it maturely—you know, unemotionally. I didn’t want to be that type of girl—the kind that clings to her boyfriend, and throws a tantrum if he pays attention to another girl. I mean, I’d never been like that in the past, and I didn’t want to start now.
But the thing was, in the past there had never been a reason for me to be like that. But suddenly—with Becca around—suddenly I felt vulnerable and threatened, and itched to make ridiculous demands. Like, he couldn’t talk to her, or look at her … or get within ten feet of her.
I wanted to make those demands. Bad.
But I knew it was irrational. And would make me look pathetic and insecure. Which I suddenly was. Big time. I mean, about our relationship. It was so heart-wrenchingly painful and sad because I never once felt that way before. Ever.
But now I felt it royally.
And then …
It was only a few days after the ski trip that I was in Grady’s room. We’d been kissing in between this project we have been working on for like, the last two years. We’re making a video game together. We both are artists, so that part we do together. But I write the script to the game while he programs it. It’s going to be absolutely awesome … if we ever finish it. The looong breaks for kissing don’t help. (But they’re fun.)
As we were kissing, reluctantly Grady had to go downstairs, since his mom kept insisting he take out the garbage. She’d been insisting for the past hour—getting louder. Grady finally sighed, pulling away from our swoon-inducing kissing, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
While he was gone, I noticed his phone sitting on his desk—abandoned. Score!
I was going to put a funny post on his SpacePage status (we like to do that to each other when we catch either of our phones abandoned) but I got sidetracked, swiping through his phone’s photos, getting all warm and mushy inside as I adored our adorable, perfect couple-ness. But then—wham! My heart froze like ice. Because the next picture I swiped to was a photo of him and Becca with their arms around each other, kissing.
CHAPTER 6
I almost dropped the phone.
Couldn’t breathe. I crumbled into the nearest chair, not able to take my eyes off the horrific photo—Grady looking so delighted and happy as he laughingly kissed Becca.
Everything inside me died.
It was like a jagged knife sliced through my heart, ripped it to shreds, and threw it on the floor. Stomped on it.
How—how could he do this? Dear, sweet Grady? How could he betray me like this?
I felt so wounded and deserted. Totally demolished.
Just then Grady came back into the room. He’d been smiling, about to say something funny, obviously, but then he saw my stricken face and immediately his smile fell.
“What is it?” he asked sounding alarmed. “Mandy, what happened?”
His questioning eyes darted to his phone still in my hands, then to my stricken eyes. Immediately, awareness seemed to dawn in his bewildered brain. He placed his palm against his forehead, just held it there, looking agonized. “The picture,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for you to see it.”
The way he said it—he didn’t sound guilty. At all. Or ashamed. It was more like he was apologetic. Like he was terribly sorry I saw it, but not like he’d done anything wrong.
“How could you?” I choked out.
He shook his head slightly.
“How could I what?—Mandy, it was a joke.”
He made this incredulous chuckle noise, “Look at it—we’re laughing.”
“I did look at it—you’re kissing!”
He shook his head. “We’re not really—it was a joke, Mandy. Look at it, we were laughing our heads off. We had just went down the ‘Kiss of Death’. Look at the sign we’re standing under.”
The sign says: “I Went Down The Kiss of Death.’
Grady explained with a small smile, “So, Becca suddenly kissed me as I had a guy snap a picture of us under the sign. She did it as a joke.”
When I just stared at the picture, not saying a word, Grady went on, now sounding gentle, “Look, it wasn’t romantic. It was a joke, Mandy. Look at us—laughing. Not being romantic, just joking around.”
When I still don’t say anything, because everything inside me has died and all I can do is stare at the horrible picture, he says softly, “I didn’t mean for you to see it.”
“No kidding.”
“No—I mean, because I knew you would take it this way. I knew it would make you react like this.”
“React like what? A girl that has been cheated on?”
“Mandy, you weren’t cheated on. It was a joke.”
I clutched my stomach, tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t get the joke.”
He made this tiny grunt noise. Then groaned, “No, I know. But I swear, it was funny. We cracked up laughing about it. It wasn’t romantic—it was a joke.”
“Yeah, super funny,” I murmured, dead inside.
He stared at me, looking uncomfortable.
I swallowed. “If you didn’t want me to see it, why didn’t you delete it?”
“Because I didn’t want to delete it. It was a great memory.”
Pain sliced through me.
Everything inside me hurt. So bad. I couldn’t breathe.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing. “It was that great of a memory, huh?”
“Yeah, but—Mandy, not like that.” He took me into his arms, holding me tight. “I didn’t want you to see it—this is why. Not because I was cheating on you—because I wasn’t cheating on you—it was because I knew you would take it wrong and you’d be hurt.”
“Take it wrong that you were kissing another girl,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
“I wasn’t kissing her. I didn’t kiss her back. We were both laughing. It was just a joke. It was funny … but I guess you had to be there.”
I had a feeling if I’d been there it wouldn’t have happened.
CHAPTER 7
After that day, neither Grady nor I ever mentioned the picture again. I couldn’t even bring it up with my friends. The memory hurt too much, and I just couldn’t talk about it, not even with them. I knew I’d start bawling, and I knew they would be all upset and alarmed and mad at Grady. I just couldn’t go through that—talking about it. Admitting it aloud. That my sweet Grady—doting, adoring Grady—had kissed another girl. And defended it. Tried to laugh about it. Like it was no big deal.
… but if it was no big deal to him, he would have deleted it.
It hurt so bad.
Nothing had ever hurt so bad.
I curled up on my bed, fretting about it a lot. In fact, that was what I was doing the next Friday night when Grady called from work.
“Hey, a bunch of us are going skiing tomorrow,” he said cheerfully. “Please tell me you can come.”
I winced, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can’t.”
I really couldn’t. I had to switch with people so I could go skiing with Grady last weekend. I couldn’t do it again. I really couldn’t. I owed everybody now extra work hours. No one owed me. Not one person. Some people I owed double, in fact. So, I was screwed.
It made my insides tighten. “Who’s all going?”
“Everybody,” he said. “We’re figuring it’s probably our last trip for the season.”
I wanted to ask him if Becca was going, but I figured I already knew. She was probably why he said �
�everybody” instead of naming names.
It made that sinking feeling come back in my heart.
“Okay, well,” I sighed, dying inside. “Have fun.”
“You sure you can’t come?” he said coaxingly.
“No. I wish I could…. But I can’t.”
“Bummer. It won’t be the same without you. I’ll miss you.”
To be honest, he doesn’t really sound that torn up, though. Not like he usually does when I can’t do something that he really, really wants me around for. But then again … he likes to ski. And I suck at it. So I can’t really blame him for not dying at the thought of having to go without me.
If it weren’t for Becca, it would be no big deal at all. But there is Becca. So, it is a big deal. In fact, it’s a massively gigantic huge deal.
When I get off the phone, I clutch my stomach a moment, not able to shake the feeling he’s slipping away. It hurts so bad.
As I’m getting ready for work, my friend Nicole calls. It does not ease my worries. At all. She sounds concerned, “You’re not coming skiing tomorrow?!”
“Can’t. I have to work.”
“You have to come. Becca’s coming.”
She says it like she knows all the anxiety in my heart.
I slink down on my bed. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”
“So, you have to come.”
“Look, I can’t. I tried. Really, really tried. But I can’t babysit the guy. I have to trust him.”
“Yeah, sure—trust him. He’s awesome and loves you. It’s her I don’t trust. At all.”
“Me either. But what can I do, though? There will always be someone like her around, right? He either loves me, and will be steadfast and faithful, or he doesn’t, and he won’t. I guess this will show me which it is.”
“No! Don’t do this. Guys are weak, and girls like Becca are scheme-y. She’ll get him to cheat without him even realizing he’s doing it.”
“He already has,” I mutter.
“What?!”
But I can’t tell her about the picture. It hurts too much to even think about it, let alone talk about it. Plus, she’ll demand I come tomorrow and I just … can’t. I can’t bear to get there and then have him leave me to go off with his friends again (aka: Becca again).
“Mandy!” Nicole says coaxingly, “Just come.”
“I can’t,” I tell her, feeling all kinds of nausea, and sadness, and worry.
Hollow inside, I murmur, “I need to go, okay? Have fun tomorrow, though.”
Then I hang up really quick.
She calls me back, but I don’t pick up.
I just clutch my stomach rocking back and forth a bit. But I’m being dumb, right? I mean, Grady is the sweetest greatest guy in the entire world. We’re tight. He loves me dearly. I’m just being paranoid, like he said … right?
CHAPTER 8
A moment later, after hanging up with Nicole, my friend Sara texts, “Nicole says you aren’t coming tomorrow. Mandy, you have to come.”
I sigh. “No, actually, I have to work.”
“Mandy, no! You haven’t seen Becca with Grady in history class. It’s HORRIBLE. You have to come. Switch hours with Todd. The guy loves you—give him your puppy dog eyes and he’ll switch with you in a heartbeat, and pay you for it.”
True. Probably. Our assistant manager, Todd, seems to have developed some strange crush on me. I don’t want to take advantage of that, though—of him suddenly wanting to please me so bad (it’s weird!) but then again, right now I’m sorely, sorely tempted to do it.
But no.
It’s bad.
And wrong.
And I shouldn’t have to babysit my boyfriend. There will always be pretty girls buzzing around him, trying to draw his attention. I can’t hang over him with a fly-swatter every second of the day. He’s going to have to do some swatting on his own … or if he doesn’t, then I guess we aren’t as perfect for each other as I always thought. (Though it’s terrifying to think Becca might spend all day tomorrow whispering in his ear that we’re not.)
The thought makes me shudder. And my stomach feels like its full of rocks. But come on. He’s either committed … or he’s not.
Sara types determinedly on, “Or just quit. You hate your job. You’re always saying you want to get a new one. This can be your reason to stop talking about it and actually DO it.”
After a moment, I answer back: “Right. I should get a new job, definitely … the question is: Do I need a new boyfriend?”
“No!! You guys are the perfect couple. What you really need is to push Becca off a bridge.”
CHAPTER 9
Well, I didn’t follow Sara’s advice. I didn’t quit my job … or push Becca off a bridge, though I wish I did. The day after the ski trip Sara and Nicole came over to my house looking grim and bearing muffins. With sympathetic little frowns, and worried eyes, they stuffed me with muffins as they informed me that Becca had hurt her leg on the ski slopes and Grady carried her to the lodge, then spent the rest of the day sipping hot chocolate with her all cozy and chummy by the fire.
When Grady finally came to my house that day, I called him out on it.
He grunted. “What? She was injured. And it was sort of my fault—we crashed.”
“Why? Because you were skiing together all day?”
He squinted. “You sound mad. She’s a good skier. Am I not allowed to ski with a good skier just because it’s a girl?”
“Not when she sits in your lap.”
“She fell in my lap.”
“And kissed you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Why do I get the feeling any time I’m near her you’re going to be this way?”
“What? Hurt?”
“Look, what I’m seeing is you’re upset that I was being nice to a friend—that I hurt. Mandy, I crashed into her.”
“Because you were skiing with her.”
“Yeah. I was skiing with her. She’s a good skier. Sue me if that’s what I wanted to do while I was skiing—hang out with someone that can ski.”
Pain sliced through me like a knife at his words. Because that really, really sounded like a slam at me—since I’m not really that great of a skier. I know that’s probably not the way he intended it. He’s so not like that. He’s a sweet guy and doesn’t put backhanded jabs into his remarks. Ever. Still, it kind of feels like a backhanded jab. A really deep and cruel one.
“Mandy,” he says, rolling his eyes with a teasing grin, “That didn’t come out right. I mean, I didn’t mean it the way it probably sounded to you. Look, lets start over, okay? I had fun, yes. But I would have had way more fun if you were with me—of course.”
“But you had fun? It didn’t even sound like you got to ski. You stayed with Becca by the fire. Our fire.”
He grins slightly, raising his eyebrows. “Our fire? We own it? I wasn’t aware we owned the title.”
“Well, you should have been aware, and you shouldn’t have sat at it with another girl.”
“Okay. Noted. I wasn’t aware we owned the fire.”
“Grady, stop making jokes, I’m mad.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m making the jokes. I don’t want you to be mad.”
My lip quivers. “I’m hurt.”
He makes a moan noise and takes me into his arms. “Don’t be hurt,” he says soothingly. “I’m sorry I sat at our fire with another girl.”
It feels so good to be in his arms, I kind of melt, and I know I should just drop it. Let him just hold me, because it’s comforting and I know if I go on, he won’t be able to comfort me anymore. But I have to go on, because I can’t stop myself. I need to get rid of the knots twisting in my gut, and though I know this isn’t actually going to help it unknot, I can’t keep it inside me anymore either.
I reluctantly back away from him, just a step, so I can peek up into his eyes. “Just tell me … are we still the same? Are we still us?—a couple?”
He
looks up at the sky a moment. “Are you asking me to choose?—a friend, or you?” He looks into my eyes, “Don’t ask me that, Mandy.”
Trembling, I yank myself out of his arms, so beyond hurt that I feel like I’m going to die. “I guess I just got my answer.”
Tears already streaming down my face, I run into my house.
CHAPTER 10
Immediately, when I get to my room, I get a text from Grady, “Are we broken up????”
When I don’t answer, he texts: “I don’t want to be broken up.”
He writes, “I just don’t want to have to choose between you and a friend.”
Crying, I type: “Then I guess, yes. We’re broken up.”
“Mandy … I’ll miss you.”
CHAPTER 11
Of course I bawled my eyes out after getting Grady’s text.
I can’t believe it. Grady and I are over. It won’t sink in. It’s impossible.
It’s ironic, though. Deep down I knew it would end like this if I let Grady go on that ski trip alone. My friends had tried to warn me, and, of course, I’d had the sinking, gut-wrenching feeling they were right. But still, I hadn’t wanted them to be right. I wanted Grady to be my Grady. Be steadfast … and truly love me. Love me like he used to—when all he wanted was me, and wouldn’t even dream of keeping a picture of another girl kissing him, not when he knew it would hurt me. But now he was even willing to break up over that girl.
A pang of terrible sadness wrenches through my heart whenever I think about it—and really, it’s all I can think about.
Yesterday I kept half-thinking Grady would come back to my house all apologetic, and beg me not to break up with him. That he would say of course he was willing to stay away from Becca since it hurt me so much. But no. He did absolutely nothing. It killed.
I feel deserted. Lost.
All last night I was tangled in my sheets bawling my eyes out. I got zero sleep.
Want To Hate You ... Too Bad I Love You Page 19
