For All The Wrong Reasons

by Brownell, Rachael

  The more I remember, the more it hurts.

  Because what stands out most is the way Quinn was practically fucking Kara with his eyes while I was grinding against him. He watched her all night while we played our little game. He let me make a fool of myself in front of everyone while he made his final move.

  He took his last stand.

  But then came home with me.

  Nothing happened between us that hasn’t already happened. We made out, a lot. He felt me up a few times. The important thing is that we never crossed the line. Not that I would have been able to stop him. Hell, from what I remember, I was encouraging him to jump over the line, erase it, and do as he pleased to me.

  Thankfully those weren’t the words I used. At least, not from what I remember.

  So for the next two days, until the ‘final showdown’ as I’m now calling it, the plan is to stay away from him. To avoid seeing him and keep my distance. It shouldn’t be that hard as long as I keep my head down and stay focused.

  The only hiccup in my plan is that he knows me too well. When I canceled our coffee date this morning, clearly lying to him, he called me out. I should have come up with a better excuse, but I couldn’t think as I watched him pull into the parking lot.

  Clearly I’m an idiot.

  It would have been a better idea to stay away from the coffee shop altogether, but I didn’t. Instead, I tortured myself by showing up and then canceling on him. Selfishly I still wanted coffee before I headed to class. I didn’t even get that. I waited for him to leave but he never did. I couldn’t walk across the parking lot if he was still there. He would have seen me, and there was no way he wouldn’t have come after me.

  So I went to class without coffee. I struggled to focus on the professor’s lecture. Not due to lack of my morning caffeine infusion but because I knew I’d hurt Quinn by lying to him.

  I could feel our friendship slipping away.

  All the warning signs were there. They had been for days. The one thing I didn’t want to happen was about to, and my heart was already aching for my impending loss.

  Ironically, it hurts more than when I lost Gavin. Not only am I losing one of my best friends but I’m also losing a piece of my heart. A piece I didn’t realize I’d given to Quinn.

  My breakup with Gavin cracked my heart. I’m afraid my breakup with Quinn is going to shatter it.

  Shaking away the thought as I zip my jacket, I step out of the building, the wind slapping me across the face. I come to an abrupt halt when I spot Kara with her arms wrapped around a very familiar frame only a few feet to my left.

  Our eyes connect, and she smiles in my direction as she pulls back, placing a kiss on Quinn’s cheek. Tears well in my eyes, so I push through the crowd behind me, back into the building to hide. With almost an hour until my next class, I have nowhere I need to be right now that’s pressing.

  Finding a quiet bench on the third floor of the building, I pull out a notebook and begin to work out some of the details of operation ‘final showdown.’ My plan needs to be perfect. Every detail is important if I’m going to come out of this without falling apart completely.

  For starters, the breakup needs to be quick. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. The faster you do it, the less it hurts.

  That’s a lie.

  It’s going to hurt like a bitch no matter how quickly you pull the Band-Aid off, but the sting will fade faster. I can only hope the same will apply to this situation, though I’m doubtful.

  The party starts at seven o’clock, but Quinn and I don’t plan to arrive until closer to nine o’clock. That’s the only detail of the night we’ve decided on so far, so I’m planning on taking full advantage of that and figuring the rest of the night out on my own, filling him in on the details he needs to be privy to.

  We’ll dance. Flirt with each other. Have a few drinks. Maybe even suggest we enter the costume contest. Then, around eleven o’clock, right before the costumes are to be judged, I’m going to drop the bomb on him. In order to do that, I need him to be talking to Kara, which shouldn’t be a problem considering recent events.

  She’ll be working behind the bar, so I can send him for fresh drinks. Tell him to flirt with her. Lean in a little too close, whisper something in her ear to make her laugh. He needs to help set this up. It was his idea, after all.

  Then, the moment she flirts back, I’ll storm over, make a few very loud accusations, and run out. That should be good enough to get people talking. Kara will be his shoulder to cry on, giving him exactly what he wants, and I’ll go home and let it all go.

  I’ve been over the scenario a million times. I wish there was a way I wouldn’t end up hurt, but it’s not possible. I was skeptical of his stupid plan from the beginning, and I should have listened to my gut. Shame on me. Tricking Gavin into wanting to get back together was a bad idea. Even with the way he reacted the first time he saw us together.

  Hell, he had my replacement on his arm that day.

  No one looks backward. There’s a reason for it. Focusing on what you lost, on what you don’t have, will never change your situation.

  Taking control of your life, making the best decisions moving forward and focusing on all the potential that lies in front of you is the only way to live your best life. And that’s what I plan to do from here on out.

  Live my best life.

  Focus on me.

  What I want. What I need. What will make me happy?

  I can’t focus on the fact I’m no longer with Gavin, not that I want to be anymore. I’ve wiped the grime off that window and can clearly see him for who he is now. At the end of the day, he’s not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  Quinn may be that man, but I don’t have him either, and I need to let those dreams die as well. He wants to be with Kara. There was a moment I thought maybe there was a chance for us, but I was wrong. It hurts, but I’ll survive. I’ll move on eventually.

  Losing him as a friend hurts more than losing him as the possibility of something more.

  After checking the time on my phone, I pack up my things and head down the stairwell. Quinn and Kara should be gone by now, but I take the back exit just in case. Taking the long way to get to class is more appealing than seeing them together.

  It’s been the longest few days of my life. Avoiding Quinn has proven to be harder than I thought. He knows my schedule. He’s showing up everywhere I am. His texts are like clockwork, chiming through every morning five minutes after my alarm goes off, the next when I’m having lunch, and one right before I go to bed. They all say the same thing.

  QUINN: Good morning, beautiful.

  QUINN: Hope you’re having a good day.

  QUINN: Sweet dreams.

  He hasn’t once asked me to meet up with him again, and I haven’t offered a single reply to any of them. It’s better to distance myself knowing what’s happening tonight, that this is about to be over in a matter of hours.

  The only text I’ve sent him was an overview of the plans for tonight. And I sent that twenty minutes ago.

  ME: I’ll meet you there at nine o’clock. That way I can drive myself home later. Make sure you pay extra special attention to Kara tonight. I’m sure she’s going to look hot in her costume. You need to give me a reason to make a scene or it won’t be believable, and this is everything we’ve been working for the last month. I’ll see you later tonight.

  All business. Straight to the point. No emotion.

  It took me four drafts before I realized there was no easy way to point out the obvious, so I finally just sent the message. My phone has been silent since. I turned the ringer on high to make sure I won’t miss his reply, but he hasn’t sent one yet.

  And as if he knew I was staring at my phone . . .

  QUINN: Picking you up at seven o’clock. Wear normal clothes. We can change before the party.

  ME: Why? The plan is to meet there.

  Did he miss the part about me needing to drive myself home later?

&
nbsp; QUINN: Dinner first and then we can worry about that.

  ME: I already ate.

  It’s a lie, and he knows it. It’s barely five o’clock. Unless wine counts as a meal, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. To be honest, I haven’t felt hungry in days. My stomach’s been in knots, and my anxiety has been overwhelming. I’ve forced myself to eat in the morning and have a snack before bed to soak up the wine I’ve been consuming like it’s water.

  QUINN: I’ll see you at seven.

  Great. One last dinner with Quinn before I rip the Band-Aid off. I can’t wait . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  QUINN

  She’s been avoiding me since Saturday morning, not that I blame her. I’ve caught glimpses of her on campus a few times as she’s slipped into class or ducked into the library, disappearing before I could catch up to her.

  Kara hasn’t helped the situation.

  She’s been everywhere I’ve turned lately.

  Yes, it’s what I wanted. Sort of. Flirting with her and giving her the impression I want her at the party last weekend was successful. She’s been all over me lately. Touching me every chance she gets. Cornering me at the house. Sitting close to me on the couch.

  She even cooked dinner for me last night.

  It’s been eye opening. I’ve seen a different side of her than she’s ever shown me before. A softer side. More caring. Sweeter. It makes me wonder if she’s showing me who she really is.

  I’ve always known her exterior appearance, with all her tattoos, dark makeup, and black clothing, was a mask for the person she was hiding on the inside. That may very well be true, but it doesn’t change how I feel about her. A month ago, it would have. But now . . . Gabby is all I see. She’s the one I want.

  And I think she feels the same but is afraid of the way she feels. I should know. The way I feel about her scares the hell out of me.

  I thought I was in love once before. Now I realize that the way I felt back then was nothing in comparison to the way I feel about Gabby. I miss her the second she disappears from view. I crave her touch at night, the feel of her body against mine. I yearn for the sound of her voice, her laugh.

  Being away from her has sucked, but it’s also made me appreciate her more. I’ve realized a lot of things about me, about what I want and what I don’t. I can only hope she’s had a few soul-searching moments as well.

  First and foremost, I don’t want to break up with her. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. This all started as a ploy, but it’s evolved, and it’s no longer about that. I stopped wanting Kara weeks ago. The only reason I’ve been paying her any attention is to keep her quiet, which seems to be working so far.

  After reading her text, I knew she was committed to the plan. To breaking up tonight. I have one last shot to change her mind and a small window to take it. Dinner. Conversation over food. My final attempt to woo her, to show her that I care about her. To prove that I’ve fallen in love with her.

  I’m not taking no for an answer.

  I’m going all in. Laying all my cards on the table. Jumping off the bridge without a safety net.

  You can call it what you want, use any cute phrase ever written. It all breaks down the same way.

  I’m choosing Gabby. I only hope she chooses me.

  Dinner was an epic failure.

  I’ve had bad dates before. One that was so disastrous I still haven’t talked to the girl since that night, and that was in high school. But nothing has ever gone as wrong as tonight’s date.

  For starters, Gabby was in the middle of a hair crisis when I showed up. One strand of hair got twisted up in her curling iron and she couldn’t get it untangled. Her entire place smelled like burnt hair when I walked in, and Gabby was in tears, mascara running down her face.

  She literally burnt an entire strand of her hair off. It was gripped in her right hand as she explained what happened through her sobs. The only saving grace was the piece wasn’t from a noticeable spot.

  By the time she finally cleaned herself up and was ready, we had missed our reservation. I held out hope that they’d find a table for us when we showed up, especially after hearing about Gabby’s mishap, but they were booked solid, and we were out of luck.

  Instead of a quiet, dimly lit, romantic dinner for two, I was forced to take Gabby to a chain restaurant with kids screaming and televisions in every corner. Not the mood I was trying to set for us, but I had to work with what I had. We were still having dinner together, just the two of us. I still had a chance to tell her how I felt.

  Or at least I would have if the waiter hadn’t spilled Gabby’s strawberry daiquiri in her lap as he was setting it on the table. She was covered in cold, sticky, red liquid from the nape of her neck to her thighs. Not to mention she now smelled like booze.

  Gabby tried to clean herself up in the bathroom, but I could see how uncomfortable she was when she returned to the table, so we left. I drove her back to her place so she could clean up properly and change into her costume. By the time it was all over, it was time to head to the party anyway.

  I hadn’t told her how I felt about her.

  The universe had kicked me in the balls every chance it was given tonight, and it felt like her making a huge scene and breaking up with me would be the final kick. The icing on the cake. Crème de la crème. And who was I to argue with what the universe wanted?

  “Hey, Gabs,” I start as I open her door for her. She insisted we drive separately, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help her into her car.

  “Don’t say it, Quinn. It’s been a horrible night already. Let’s not pile more on top of it. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”

  Her voice is laced with defeat. She refuses to look in my direction, sliding behind the wheel of her SUV and closing the door before I can reply, ending the conversation before it can even begin. Slamming the door on my last attempt to convince her that what’s about to happen is wrong.

  It all happened quickly.

  One minute I was staring at Gabby, wishing I could rip her costume from her body, and contemplating if she’d let me. The next I’m at the bar asking Kara for another drink, entranced by the terrible blond wig she’s wearing, when Gabby starts yelling.

  We had a short conversation before we walked inside where we decided it wouldn’t happen until the party started to die down. We wanted a crowd, but I didn’t think it was necessary for everyone to witness the breakup. Especially if I was going to find a way to save face later on and win her back.

  Apparently Gabby had other ideas.

  If she was going for genuine surprise, she got it. She caught me off guard. The look on my face was sincere as I listened to her make accusations of me wanting Kara, sleeping with Kara, cheating on her, and being an asshole. My jaw popped open as if she had smacked me across the face.

  I was in complete shock as the room went silent and everyone stared, soaking in every word she uttered.

  She wanted to make an impact with the breakup, to make it believable, and Gabby had become a hell of an actress in the last few weeks. She made me believe she wanted more from me. She had me ready to grovel at her feet. And right now, she had every person in this bar eating out of the palm her hand, believing every word she was saying.

  “I’m done, Quinn. I don’t want to compete with Kara anymore. She can have you!”

  Her final parting words are accompanied by an actual slap across the face before she turns and storms out of the bar. I’m left speechless, unable and unwilling to defend myself to the people around me. I want to scream that it was all a hoax, but I doubt anyone would believe me after that performance.

  There were tears in Gabby’s eyes, her face was bright red, and her resolve was strong.

  If I didn’t know better, she was actually hurting.

  “I’m so sorry, Quinn,” Kara coos, placing her hand on top of mine. I was reaching for Gabby’s rum and coke when she approached, and I’m still gripping the glass for dear life.

  “You’re sorry?�
� I snip as anger begins to build beneath the surface. Turning my attention away from the door Gabby disappeared out of and toward Kara, I continue throwing hate at her. “What are you sorry for? That I actually care about her and she broke my heart or the fact that you thought this was a sham? Please tell me why you’re sorry.”

  “Well,” she begins, pulling her hand away and bowing her head in shame, her wig falling forward slightly. “I thought that maybe you were doing all this to make me jealous. I guess I was wrong.”

  “I was,” I find myself admitting louder than I should have. People are still watching me closely, watching my interaction with Kara. Probably for signs I’m actually cheating on Gabby with her. They need confirmation. “But it stopped being about you a long time ago.”

  Stomping away, I push through the thinning crowd and out the front door. I need to find Gabby. I need to make this right. I need to—

  Walk away.

  That’s what I need to do. Because I just received all the confirmation I needed.

  Gabby. In Gavin’s arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  GABRIELLE

  I tried to hold back the tears until I was out the door, but I couldn’t. Hurting Quinn, saying those awful things about him . . . it hurt me too. It hurt even more when I saw the looks of hatred he was receiving from everyone around us.

  He doesn’t deserve those looks. He’s been nothing but good to me, and I’ve turned everyone against him.

  I’ve drawn the line in the sand and forced people to pick a side. He’s standing alone, and I have an army behind me. Even Kara took a step away from him when I started yelling. She didn’t want to be associated with the lies, and I can’t blame her.

  She was a pawn in all of this.

  We all were.

  Life was playing a game of chess. We didn’t have control over any of our moves except the first one, and it was the biggest mistake of our lives.