The Heartbreakers

by Pamela Wells

  The butterflies grew incessant and she edged away. She had a boyfriend, dang it. She was trying to make it work, unlike all the boys in her past.

  “So, uh,” she began, wanting to fill the silence. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer that text message a while back. I just—”

  “It’s all right, Ray.”

  Lots of people shortened her name, but it didn’t sound half as good as it did coming from Horace.

  “No, it’s not okay,” she said, pulling her eyes back up. “I should have explained. Or something…”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “I kind of figured it out though.”

  Right. Of course it was obvious. He probably thought she was a bitch. Probably she was, for kissing him and then avoiding him. “I should go.”

  She turned but Horace grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

  She stopped, liking the feel of his hand on her skin. Goose bumps popped on her forearm. “Horace, I—”

  He kissed her. Just like that. Nothing forceful or gross, just a soft, innocent lip-lock, as if he worried that he’d scare her away with anything more aggressive.

  “Raven!”

  She pulled away from Horace and turned back to the kitchen, the sound of her name carrying over the din of the party.

  Caleb.

  Lips pursed, face red, he shouted, “What in the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry,” Horace whispered.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes it is.”

  The drinking crowd parted, letting Caleb through effortlessly. He stalked into the mudroom, putting his nose in Horace’s face.

  Raven put her hand on Caleb’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

  He yanked out of her grasp. “Don’t touch my girlfriend,” he said to Horace.

  While Horace had more muscle, he was a good five inches shorter than Caleb. Raven didn’t want to see them fight. She didn’t want Horace getting hurt because of her.

  “Just stop, Caleb.” She tried pulling him away, but he pushed her. Horace reached out as she fell back. Caleb took the opening and punched Horace in the face, sending him down on top of Raven. His lower lip started bleeding, swelling up instantly.

  “Caleb!” Raven shouted as Horace rolled over and wiped his lip with his shirt. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  Caleb leaned over her. “That makes two of us, Raven, ‘cause I can’t believe you cheated on me with a freakin’ band geek.”

  “I didn’t cheat on you!”

  “Oh, yeah, what do you call kissing him, then? Just an innocent gesture between band geeks? Is that something band geeks do?”

  “Quit saying that.”

  “What? Band geeks!” His voice rose every time he said it.

  Raven tried to ignore him and helped Horace to his feet. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m alive.”

  “Oh, sure, Raven. Baby him,” Caleb retorted.

  “You punched him in the face.”

  “You know what?” He spread his arms out. “We’re over.”

  “Caleb!” She ran after him. “Stop.” When she reached the living room—the stereo having been muted for the “live” show—Caleb grabbed Tina Strong, a blonde sophomore in the crowd, and kissed her. When he pulled away he said, “How do you like that, Raven?” then disappeared into another room leaving two stunned girls behind.

  Frozen in place, Raven’s mouth hung open, her arms limp at her sides. He did not just do that! Was she partially to blame? She had, after all, kissed Horace first. Maybe she deserved it.

  Maybe.

  Head hanging, she made her way back to the mudroom. She wasn’t surprised to find Horace gone. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, wishing she could take the entire night back.

  Why was her love life so screwed up all the time? Her best friend, Alexia, would probably say it was because Raven cycled through guys too often, and she picked the wrong ones to go out with in the first place.

  But Raven liked Caleb. So, okay, maybe he had a temper and maybe he was too much of a “guys’ guy,” but when they first started going out, he’d bought her flowers and called her every night to say good night. He’d felt like Mr. Right. She’d thought maybe he’d become her first serious boyfriend. That’s what she wanted—to find someone she could fall in love with. She had tons of guys to pick from. Why couldn’t she find a great one?

  Probably because he didn’t exist. Either that, or she was just destined to be alone. The thought made her nauseous. Alone. She hated being alone. She didn’t want to end up like her mother, who sat home on Friday nights with scrapbooking as her only hobby.

  Lame!

  Raven’s cell rang in her pocket. Her heart sped up. Maybe it was Caleb calling to apologize. She checked the screen. It was Sydney.

  “Hey.”

  “Ray?” Sydney’s voice cracked through the phone.

  “Are you crying?” Raven asked.

  Sydney sniffed. “Can you come pick me up? I don’t want to be home right now.”

  Something had happened with Drew. Raven just knew it. She set aside her own drama to focus on Sydney. “Of course. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Okay?”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you soon.” She flipped her phone closed and left.

  THREE

  Kelly Waters checked her reflection in the darkened windows of a closed shoe store. Hmm. She pulled her coat aside to see her figure better. There was a little bit of pudge beneath the back strap of her bra, but otherwise it was a skinny day for her.

  Up ahead, light shone on the sidewalk through the windows of the Birch Falls Art Gallery. Kelly gave her watch a glance and cursed, realizing the opening reception had already begun. She quickened her steps, suddenly thankful that she’d gone with flats instead of high heels. Not only did she leave her house ten minutes late, but the parking downtown was brutal. Though most of the stores were closed, Fredrick’s Restaurant—just down the block from the gallery—was always busy Friday nights. Lots of people from school hung out there this time of year since there was nothing to do in Birch Falls during the cold months.

  Inside the gallery, Kelly slid off her fleece gloves and shoved them in her purse along with her matching scarf. She couldn’t wait for spring. Winter was not her season. Not that it was anyone’s season, really. Well, maybe if you made a living by snowboarding.

  She recognized a few faces from school and smiled, nodding at them as she went farther inside. She found Will in the far corner, pointing to a framed canvas on the wall as he talked to Brittany, a girl from school whose thin figure and height screamed couture model while Kelly was more Oprah-ish. She felt skinny one week and downright fat the next.

  A twinge of jealousy furrowed her brow and she hesitated, wondering if it was her right to interrupt their conversation, since she and Will were a sort-of couple, or if it would be rude. She took tentative steps across the gallery, her flats clacking on the hardwood floor.

  As Will talked with his hands, he saw Kelly waiting on the periphery. “Excuse me,” he said to Brittany.

  Relief overtook the worry, and Kelly smiled. If he’d rather talk to her than Brittany, he must like her more, right? Maybe she should get back to the gym. And stop eating so much chocolate. It was her diet kryptonite. It didn’t help matters that her older brother, Todd, was always talking her into late night fast-food runs because their mother couldn’t cook. And Raven’s mother was always making those awesome Italian dishes and insisting Kelly stay for dinner…

  “Hey,” Will breathed into her ear, then kissed her cheek delicately. “You’re late,” he said, the smile on his face slipping away.

  “Sorry.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and cast her eyes to the floor.

  “Well.” He took a breath. “You want to check out my pieces?”

  “Sure.”

  He led her to the far wall where he’d been talking with skinny Brittany. “This is it. My favorite one is Kites.” He inclined his head toward the
abstract painting done in bright, childlike colors. Were there actual kites in there somewhere?

  “And this one,” Will went on, “took me weeks to finish. Every time I put the brush to canvas, something changed.” He put his index finger to his chin, musing over his own work. “I like how it came out though.”

  Kelly glanced over the second piece. It was a blue face in the middle of something green. Trees maybe? Honestly, she didn’t get the whole art thing. Especially the way Will did art. Sure, she could appreciate the Mona Lisa or the fantasy art that was so popular lately. But that was art. There was something to see and look at. You didn’t have to think hard about it, or analyze it, or interpret it. But she wasn’t about to say that out loud to Will.

  “Wow,” she said, making her voice sound breathy. “It’s all great, Will.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, his mouth quirking. He flicked his eyes to her. “You look great tonight, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled again and bit her lower lip to stop herself from squealing. At least being late had paid off in some way. “Can we walk around? I want to see what the other people did.”

  “Sure.” He threaded his fingers with hers and led her away from his collection. The gallery was bigger than Kelly had first thought. She’d never been in here before tonight. Even farther back than Will’s wall was a little room filled with black-and-white photography.

  When they went inside, Kelly found the room empty. Perfect opportunity to tell Will about her Valentine’s Day plan. It was just a few weeks away. She was planning on V-Day meaning more than V as in Valentine. If all went as planned, it would mean V as in the day she lost her virginity.

  She and Will had been together—or sort-of together—for several months now. They weren’t official, but Kelly wanted to make it official. What better timing than the day of love?

  “This guy,” Will was saying, “is really good though his style is a little out there. He doesn’t fit normal conventions. And he has a lot of tattoos.”

  “Tattoos are bad?” Kelly asked.

  “Art is for canvas, not skin.” He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in. “At least that’s what I think.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” She snuggled in close to him. He smelled like licorice and soap. It was an interesting mix. “So,” she said, wondering how she should bring up Valentine’s Day. She was so excited about it. She was afraid talking out loud would somehow jinx the whole thing.

  Finally, she said, “I’ve got a surprise planned for us.”

  “Yeah?” he said, keeping his eyes on the wall of photographs.

  “I was thinking, for Valentine’s Day, we could make reservations at a hotel restaurant and then maybe we could—”

  “Wait.” Will pulled away so he could look her in the eye. “You’re making special plans? For Valentine’s Day?” Confusion furrowed his brow. “I can’t. I thought I told you I had plans already.”

  “Plans?” No, he hadn’t told her. “What are you doing?”

  He ran his hand over his hair, probably checking that it was still perfectly styled. “Brittany asked me out to dinner. I can’t back out after agreeing.”

  “Brittany?” Kelly’s voice hitched on the name, sweat beaded on her forehead. This was exactly why she didn’t want to talk about it out loud.

  “Kelly,” he said, using that adult tone of his. “You know we’re not exclusive.”

  “I know, I thought…” Well, it didn’t really matter what she thought now. She forced her lips into something she hoped resembled a casual smile. “I know we’re not exclusive. I just thought it’d be fun to hang out.”

  “Yeah,” he said, visibly relaxing. “We could maybe do something that Sunday?”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” She managed a false sense of cheerfulness. She did not want Will knowing what she really felt right now—crushed. She’d been hoping they could spend the whole weekend together. She wanted them to be a real couple. Finally. After waiting so long. She figured that if she stuck around and showed Will how much she cared about him by complimenting and supporting him in his endless list of extracurricular activities, that he’d eventually make the relationship serious. At least that’s what the astrology article in Seventeen had suggested for sweeping Capricorns off their feet.

  Will did all the talking as they went through the rest of the gallery. Kelly didn’t feel like saying anything. What she wanted to do was go home and get out of these stupid clothes and put on some sweatpants. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling so skinny.

  After seeing all of the exhibits, people started drifting into groups in the middle of the gallery. Will dragged Kelly over and introduced her to Brittany. She knew Brittany; everyone knew Brittany. Why make it a point to introduce them? Why didn’t Will just stab her in the heart and save himself some trouble?

  “We’ve never really talked,” Brittany said, shaking Kelly’s hand.

  “Yeah. It’s nice to finally talk,” Kelly lied. Brittany was even prettier up close. She had delicate features, rosy-red cheeks. How was Kelly going to compete with her?

  “Are you coming to the dinner after this?” Brittany asked.

  “Um…” What dinner? Kelly looked at Will for clarification.

  “I forgot,” Will interjected. “We’re all going to dinner at Bershetti’s. You can come.”

  It didn’t sound like he wanted her to come. She’d bet he’d withheld the info, not forgotten.

  Feeling like she was going to vomit, Kelly excused herself before answering and hurried to the bathroom. Finding it empty, she allowed a few tears to slide down her face. She swiped them away angrily and faced herself in the long mirror on the wall.

  Maybe she was making more of this than she needed to. Was it such a big deal that she and Will wouldn’t hang out on Valentine’s Day? She’d been trying to have a serious relationship with him for months now. It wasn’t time to give up yet. Maybe Brittany, for all her physical attributes, was a huge bitch, and after hanging out with her, Will would dump her.

  With renewed determination, Kelly left the bathroom and headed into the main part of the gallery, except it was quieter now, and looking around, she saw fewer people. She scanned the faces, searching for Will. When she didn’t see him, she made a circle around the gallery and still didn’t find him.

  She went up to the first person she saw—a guy with thick, black-framed glasses—and said, “Excuse me?” He turned. “Do you know Will Daniels?”

  “Uh, yeah, I know of him,” the guy said.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah.” He pointed toward the front door. “He just left, not even five minutes ago.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yup.” He turned back to the wall of photographs.

  “Thanks,” she muttered and hurried outside. She’d seen Will’s car parked across the street when she came into the gallery, but looking over there now, she saw an empty parking spot where his black BMW should have been.

  She pulled her cell from her bag and dialed his number. It rang and rang and then finally someone picked up.

  “Will?” she said.

  “Uh…no, this is Ben.”

  Kelly frowned. She dialed Will’s twin brother’s phone?

  “Will left his cell at home,” Ben explained. “Is there a message I can forget to tell him? ‘Cause I really love forgetting his messages and watching him blow up when I remember to tell him days after. His face gets all red and—”

  Kelly gave a half-laugh and interrupted Ben. “No, it’s all right. Thanks anyway.”

  “‘K. Later.”

  Kelly hung up and slipped her cell back in her purse. Will had left her at the gallery. And he didn’t even say good-bye. How could he do that?

  Then tears came for real. She wiped them with her hands and saw mascara come away. Great, now she was crying and looked like hell.

  Two hours ago, she’d been excited and hopeful that she and Will would be boyfriend and girlfriend after Valentine’s Day. Now everything fe
lt wrong. Will had broken up with her, and the worst part was that they weren’t even really together in the first place.

  Time for some Chunky Monkey, aka “Woe Is Me” ice cream. Ben & Jerry should rename it. It’d sell like crazy.

  FOUR

  Alexia Bass dipped a tortilla chip in mild salsa as Best Week Ever played on the TV. Christian Finnigan was her favorite commentator: 1) he was cute and 2) he was funny. Both were great qualities for a guy to possess.

  At the next commercial break, she got off the couch to grab more tortilla chips but stopped when she heard her cell phone playing Beethoven’s “Für Elise” in the den.

  “Ohh!” she shouted to the empty house and ran in to grab her cell, hoping voice mail didn’t pick up before she got there. How long had it been since her cell rang on a Friday night? She couldn’t remember. That translated to A Really Long Time.

  “Hello?”

  “What are you doing?” Kelly asked.

  Alexia smiled, hearing her friend’s voice. “Watching Best Week Ever.”

  “Can I come over? With my Chunky Monkey?”

  Alexia walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch. “Chunky Monkey usually means you’re upset. What’s wrong?” There was an extended pause. “Kel?”

  “It’s Will. Kind of.”

  Best Week Ever came back on. Alexia dove for the DVR remote and paused it. “What happened?”

  “How about if I come inside and tell you? I’m sitting in your driveway.”

  Alexia went to the front window and pulled up the Roman blinds. Kelly’s blue Honda Prelude sat in the driveway. She waved and hopped out of her car, tugging her jacket hood down to block her face from the onslaught of snow and wind. Clutching a brown paper bag to her chest with the other hand, she ran up to the porch.

  Kelly had only been friends with Alexia, Raven, and Sydney since seventh grade. Lately, Alexia had been hanging out with Kelly more than the other girls because Raven and Sydney were more serious with their boyfriends.