Break Your Heart

by Rhonda Helms

  My heart lurched in sympathy. I couldn’t imagine feeling like such an outsider. I’d always had lots of friends. And my parents had encouraged me to develop my social life as much as my academic one.

  At the thought of the two of them, my good mood slipped away. I hadn’t talked to either of them in the last few days. I was afraid to, in a way. Which was so cowardly of me, but I just couldn’t. Nor had I told anyone—including Nick—about my mom, and this was all eating away at my chest.

  It was one thing when a friend was having such dark personal issues, like Casey and her tragic past with her family. I was there to counsel in those situations, or just to commiserate with a hug and ice cream. Another situation altogether when it was my own mom.

  Secretly, I was embarrassed about it, and then ashamed that I felt so embarrassed, and all these feelings were making me pull away from my parents. Our family had always been a “normal” one. We never had issues like this. To say I was left fumbling for the right way to deal with it was an understatement.

  “Hey, you okay?” Nick’s brow furrowed. “Your mood changed. What’s wrong?”

  I forced a smile. Shoulda known he could read my face. I never was much good at hiding what I felt. “Nothing. I’m fine. It’s fine.” Or I was trying to be anyway. When Dad had gotten home that afternoon, he’d told me he’d deal with the issue. I was trying to put my trust in that.

  “So there is something wrong,” Nick countered.

  “I’d rather not get into it right now. I’d like to enjoy the evening before I go into midterms next week.” Which were also freaking me out, because for once in my academic life, I wasn’t as prepared as I should be.

  His face flicked a brief flare of emotion before it smoothed out again. My pulse kicked up in response. I knew exactly what he’d been thinking—spending this much time with him the last few weeks had helped me learn to read the nuances in his emotions as well.

  My comment on midterms had reminded him that I was a student. His student, to be exact, going to take his midterm next week. That emotion had been from his conscience battering at him over our dating.

  I angled my head and studied him. “Is this going to keep happening, Nick?”

  He blinked. “Is what?”

  With a sigh, I removed my feet from his lap and tucked them under me. “Every time I bring up school things, are you going to have that . . . surge of regret or fear or whatever it is that makes you freak out?”

  His face darkened. “That’s not fair. This isn’t easy for me.”

  “Like it’s easy for me? I’m lying about us to everyone I know. I’m holding on to this big secret, and you’re faking like you’re ‘fine’ when you’re obviously not.”

  “That’s not the only secret you’re keeping,” he shot back, an obvious reference to my unnamed stress regarding my mom.

  I clenched my jaw. Struggled to keep my breathing even. I didn’t want to fight with him. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready to talk about it right now. I’m still trying to sort it all out.” Frustration poured into my voice, mingled with hurt and fear. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed and stressed at the moment, and things aren’t quite going the right way.”

  His eyes softened and he leaned toward me. Wrapped me in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m pushing you, and it isn’t fair. I don’t like to be pushed either. I just . . . I hate to see you so obviously upset and not be able to do anything about it.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to shake off my unease. His hands made lazy, soothing strokes on my back. “Can we let all of this go tonight? I wasn’t trying to start a fight or anything with you.”

  I felt his nod. “Should I restart the movie?”

  “Nah. I’m sure we can figure out what’s going on,” I said with a forced laugh. I pulled away from him and turned to sit beside him. Cupped his hand and let my fingers rub along the lengths of his.

  The conversation fell away. Nick got caught up in the movie, but I couldn’t focus. My stomach was a knot of tension, and I kept thinking about our brief argument. I had to be honest with myself. There was dissatisfaction brewing in me, growing larger and larger every day . . . not with the relationship, but with all the secrecy around it.

  And it was definitely beginning to impact me.

  I got to watch Casey and Daniel together, so happy, so in love. Not caring who saw. And I had to watch my mom change to a person I didn’t even recognize, one who stole pills from people and got high in the middle of the day while at work. In the meantime, I was forced to pretend my life was normal, regular. I couldn’t let on that my whole world was tilting on its axis.

  What had Dr. Morrow called it? A mix of bad stress and good stress. Both impacted us.

  Two major situations happening to me right now, eating away at me. And I felt powerless to deal with them, unable to do more than roll with the punches. Maybe I should take a closer look at the coping mechanisms chapter to see if anything in there could help me. Of course, I wasn’t going to write my homework assignment on them.

  But right now, I was growing desperate enough to try anything. This prolonged distracted state was impacting me more than I wanted to admit. I hadn’t studied much for midterms, nor could I muster any enthusiasm to do so. Every time I cracked open the books, my brain would wander, and I’d close them in frustration. I hadn’t started my psych homework yet, either, which was due early Tuesday morning.

  And I couldn’t talk to Nick about any of that. Because he was a prof, and I knew what he’d do—he’d send me home. Wouldn’t see me outside of class, would cut almost all personal contact, which would only increase my anxiety. Frankly, I also didn’t want him parenting me like that. It was so hard to maintain a relationship that felt equal when I was frequently reminded it wasn’t.

  Nick held all the cards, had all the power.

  Which left me here, all of this emotion and frustration and anxiety boiling over in me with no outlet in the discernible future. Trying to keep everything together and not let this chew me into pieces.

  The movie ended, and Nick did a subtle glance at his watch. He shot me a smile. “Well, we should probably end the evening. Morning comes bright and early.” So many words not being said, hanging heavy in the air between us.

  I squeezed his hand and tried to act casual, like I wasn’t all mixed up inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His kiss was potent, powerful, but it wasn’t enough to fully release me from all my thoughts. I gathered my stuff, patted Gloria on the head and left.

  “Since I’m sure you guys want to know where you stand in our class so far, I went ahead and graded the midterm exams last night,” Nick told our class on Wednesday morning. His gaze brushed over me, and I saw his brow furrow a touch. My stomach dropped. Shit. That didn’t look good. “If you want to discuss your grade, I’ll be in my office this afternoon. Just drop by and see me.”

  Wordlessly he handed back the exams.

  Kelly turned to the last page of her pack of papers and gave a heavy sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. B-minus. I was sweating bullets.” She wiped her brow with exaggeration.

  Nick reached my aisle and handed me back my paper, no discernible expression on his face. Double shit.

  My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages and saw notes in the margins. The last page showed a score of D. He’d also written a note:

  Come to my office after class. We need to talk about this.

  I groaned. Oh God, it was worse than I’d feared. Monday morning, when I’d faced the test, I’d known I wasn’t going to ace it. Peeking at the first page had made me realize I should have fought past my stupid feelings and forced myself to study harder. But I hadn’t realized I’d screwed up this badly.

  My eyes burned.

  “How did you do?” Kelly whispered to me.

  I shook my head.

  She made a small sound and reached over to pat my back. “I’m sorry. You should go talk to him about it.”

  “I will,” I man
aged to choke out.

  I’d never done this poorly on an exam before. My parents were going to be pissed. Nick was probably pissed too. Well, they could all get in line, because I was pissed at myself.

  I tried so hard to push aside those feelings and listen to Nick as he walked through each question, giving the right answers. I wrote them down so I’d know for the final, since it would be cumulative.

  After a half hour, he let our class go early. Dallas turned to say something to me, but the look on my face must have warned him off, because he immediately whipped back around and left without saying a word.

  “Go talk to him,” Kelly said. “He’s a good teacher. I’m sure he’ll work with you on it. And it’s just one grade—it isn’t going to kill your GPA. I know you can pull this up before the semester is over.”

  I hugged her. The words did give me a little bit of comfort. She was right; I’d done well until now, so it wouldn’t tank me. And I hadn’t failed. But I was bitterly disappointed in myself anyway.

  A couple of students lingered behind to set up appointment times with him. I fiddled with my stuff and didn’t leave my seat until the room emptied out, except for him and me.

  He finally looked at me, and there was so much concern in his eyes that it made mine flood with tears. “Megan. What happened?”

  I burst into sobs, cupping my hand over my mouth. Everything was spilling out of me and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  “Hey, hey, shh,” he said as he rushed up the aisle. He maintained a respectful distance from me, but the warring emotions on his face showed me he wanted to come closer. But he couldn’t.

  Because of the damned circumstances.

  “Let’s go to my office,” he said. “You’re not busy right now, are you?”

  I shook my head. Gathered my stuff and followed him out of the room. I kept my gaze on the ground until we made it to his office. He locked the door behind us.

  I dropped into the seat in front of his desk, clutching the exam.

  “Megan,” he began in a stern voice. Stopped and seemed to rethink it, because he continued in a softer tone, “I don’t know what’s going on here. Why you’re suddenly so stressed out. Why you did so poorly on this test. But we have to talk about this. Because if . . . our being together is distracting you—”

  “It’s my mom,” I blurted out. Shit. I rubbed my brow. I hadn’t realized I was going to just word-vomit it out like that, but I couldn’t stop now.

  I had to tell someone.

  Nick stayed silent, giving me the space to continue at my own pace.

  I sucked in a shaky breath. It took me a few stops and starts but I got the whole story out. My eyes stayed fixed on his desk; I was afraid to look at him and see what he was thinking right now. “We haven’t talked in a week. I finally left my dad a message to see what was going on, but he hasn’t returned it yet. And what can I do about it anyway?” I exhaled loudly.

  He was quiet for a long moment. Then he got up and moved in front of the desk, a foot or so away from me. He leaned his backside against it. “Megan, you need to talk to your dad again. Immediately.” Tension threaded in his voice and drew my attention to his dark eyes. “If your mom comes back to work here, there’s a safety liability. Not to mention if the president gets wind of it . . .”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew what he was saying. The heavy weight in my chest grew heavier. My parents would get fired from the job.

  Probably even sued over it. I couldn’t imagine it was legal for her to show up under the influence of drugs.

  In which case, I’d have to leave the school. No Smythe-Davis graduate school education for me. There was no way I could continue going here when my mom had messed up so royally. My reputation would be damaged in the aftermath.

  This whole time, I’d been worried about the relationship with Nick doing me in when it could be this shit with my mom that struck the death blow on my future at Smythe-Davis. Unreal.

  I dropped the paper at my feet and rested my head in my hands. “This is so messed up.”

  He went down on his knees and cupped my cheeks, tilting my face up. His gaze poured with empathy. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you, but thank you for trusting me with it. I’m going to stay quiet about this for now and give you a chance to handle it. But . . .” He cleared his throat and his eyes skittered away. “I can’t sit on it for long, Megan. I have an obligation as an employee of the school to ensure the safety of everyone on campus.”

  I nodded miserably. The sensation of his thumbs stroking my cheeks couldn’t ease the burden in my heart.

  Somehow I had to convince my dad to fire my mom from the one thing she loved most, other than her family—her work. It was the right thing to do, the only way to save the business, and maybe even save her. Because if things were this bad, she needed to go into an outpatient program or something.

  But God, this might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I knew she was going to be furious with me.

  How furious, I had no idea.

  Chapter 16

  “This party needs more ice cream,” Amanda declared as she scraped the bottom of her ice-cream bowl. “Okay, not really, because I’m stupid full right now. In fact, I might never eat again.”

  Kelly laughed and put her mostly empty bowl on the coffee table. She tucked her feet under her legs. “I’m glad to see you guys don’t skimp on the good stuff.”

  “Only the best for our guests.” Casey was in a chair, a pillow over her stomach, the stereo’s remote control in hand. She got a mix loaded up with ambient music. “Give it to me straight, guys. What do you think of this song?”

  We paused and listened for a couple of minutes. I nodded my head to the rhythm. Casey was so talented. I should try something artistic, as well. How long had it been since I’d pursued anything other than academics? Far too long.

  “This is gorgeous,” Amanda breathed. She shifted in her seat and tilted her head. “Did you make this?”

  Casey nodded, pride clear on her face. “I’ve been working on it for a couple of weeks now. Something wasn’t quite clicking, but it came together for me last night. So I stayed up late to finish it.”

  The two of them continued talking about how she made music.

  Kelly, who was on the end of the couch closest to my chair, leaned over. “So did you talk to Muramoto after class? About your midterm grade?”

  I nodded. “While I can’t redo it, he did say my other homework scores were strong enough that this wouldn’t impact my overall grade too strongly. I just have to bust ass and do amazing on the final.”

  This afternoon, I’d lingered in his office for a while after confessing about my mom. We’d worked in silence, me studying for tomorrow’s exam in algebraic number theory and him grading papers. Somehow he’d sensed I didn’t want to be alone and had graciously shared his space with me.

  I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t thought of doing that before—us working together. For some reason, I’d been able to push aside my anxieties and finally focus on the books. Maybe it was his quiet, soothing presence. Or how he’d given me space to voice my concerns about my mother.

  Whatever it was, it worked.

  Kelly gave me a comforting smile. “Well, I’m glad. I know you were upset. It was a hard test, so don’t feel too bad. I’m pretty sure Dallas bombed it even worse than you did. He looked like he was going to cry when he left the room.”

  “I’m sure that sucked.” I did feel a bit bad for the guy, even if I didn’t like him like that.

  “So has he tried to ask you out again?” Kelly asked me.

  “Has who?” Casey said, peering at our side of the living room with interest.

  “That guy I went out with before Valentine’s Day,” I told her. “When I came home early.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, the bad date, right? I’m assuming he’s not the guy you’re seeing right now, then.”

  My heart froze and I stiffened. “What do you mean?” I
hadn’t told a soul about seeing Nick. Had she guessed? Seen something?

  Casey gave a laugh. “You’ve been MIA from our apartment for a few weeks now, and I can tell it’s not because you’re going to parties. Like I wouldn’t notice you weren’t around? It gets quiet when I’m here by myself. . . .”

  Kelly’s brow quirked. “Whoa, dish it, girl. Who are you seeing? Have I met him? What’s he like? Does he go to our school?”

  My brain scrabbled for the right approach to this. I should play it cool, act like it wasn’t a big deal. Obviously I wasn’t going to get far by pretending there wasn’t anyone. I just needed to downplay it all.

  I waved my hand, affecting an air of nonchalance I hoped was convincing. “Just some guy I met at a party off campus. He’s a good way to kill time when I’m bored.” Oh, it hurt my heart to say that, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

  Casey didn’t seem convinced. “Been bored a lot lately, huh?”

  My cheeks burned. “He’s quite entertaining.”

  “What’s his name?” Kelly asked.

  “Brett,” I made up. “And no, he isn’t a student at our school or anything.” In that much I could at least be true.

  Of course, my phone chose that moment to chime on the end table; I’d set it there since I didn’t have pockets in my yoga pants. I knew without a doubt in my mind it was Nick.

  It was so hard to not snatch the phone up; my hand shook with the effort to make my movements smooth. If anyone saw his name on my phone, the gig was up. I should change his name in there tonight, just in case.

  I tucked the phone under my thigh without looking at it.

  “Aren’t you gonna see what Brett wrote you?” Kelly teased. “Do you have pictures of him? Can I see?”