“Don’t be fickle, Becca,” Val says.
“I’m never fickle. But if I want to be fickle on prom night, it’s my prerogative.”
“Agreed. Do what you want, Becca,” Mel cuts in and then pokes Val’s arm. “What’s going on with you and Jason?” Val’s bringing a prep school guy we’ve never met. They play indoor soccer in a co-ed league and I’ve only seen him once, at a weekend tournament. Jason’s thick hair, the color of warm sand, and his dreamy hazel eyes, surrounded by a cluster of dark eyelashes, had all the soccer girls dying over him. But he never smiled at anyone the way he smiled at Val. They also share the same personal trainer who kept double booking them for private sessions.
Jason spends the summer traveling with his dad, a former professional soccer player and coach. They run elite sports camps and Val hopes her parents will let her tag along this year as an instructor.
“Good luck with that,” I tell her, choosing the silver hoops Gran gave me for Christmas over the heavy chandeliers Avery Thornton, junior fashionista, insisted I wear.
“Maybe if you went with me,” Val suggests.
“I’m going to Africa, remember?”
“Why? Because of Travis?” She claps her hand over her mouth when Mel shoots her a glare. “Ooh, sorry. I shouldn’t have said his name, especially not tonight.”
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. “It’s okay. I’m okay,” I say, repeating my Travis mantra. “I’m not leaving because of Travis. My mom and dad want me to spend time with them.”
Mel’s face scrunches up so much she’s in danger of running her makeup job. “Right. They’ll ship you halfway across the world to ignore you. While you don’t date boys and don’t have fun.”
I tug at the bodice of my dress, which already feels tight and uncomfortable. “At least tonight will be fun.” I manage a smile for my friends, just as Mrs. Villanueva calls up the stairs to let us know our dates have arrived.
I spot Will first, dressed in a black tux, tailored to fit him perfectly. When he smiles at me, the smile doesn’t make it to his eyes. I try very hard to fake smile back.
“Looking good, Valerie,” Jason says, with a bright grin that’s completely real. Beside me, Val melts into a big puddle. Adorable. On the other side, Connor’s kissing Mel like she’s been returned to him unharmed after wandering around in the desert for ten years. We all ignore it.
Deciding we still have time to be considered fashionably late, Will cruises back to my house. Gran flashes the camera in our faces a thousand times while Avery huffs about my choice of jewelry. We pose in front of the flowering pink dogwood trees and my mind flashes back to Travis’s picture of me from his graduation party. I shake my head to chase the memory away. Not tonight.
After hugging Gran and Avery one final time, I climb into Will’s convertible just as twilight fades into a starry spring evening. But, I’m not in the mood to admire the beauty of the night sky.
When we roar up to school in our expensive ride, the crowd outside hoots and hollers. The car is a loaner from Will’s dad, but still, the whole method of arrival feels a little obnoxious. I drop my gaze to my sparkly silver sandals.
The prom takes place in the very same gymnasium as our regular school dances. The Student Council differentiates the evening by sprucing up the décor with paper lanterns dangling from the high ceiling, cardboard silhouettes of dressed up couples covering the concrete walls, and a catered dinner no one bothers to eat.
After we pose for pictures, Will pretty much abandons me for the night. I hang at the table, talking to Mel and Connor and a few other non-dancers. Afterward, a bunch of us meet back at Val’s for a co-ed sleepover, extending the prom into an all-night party. Thirty of us troop down to the Villanueva’s basement, complete with a huge bar Val’s Dad spent the day emptying out, leaving behind one stinking case of Pepsi.
“You looked beautiful tonight, Becca.” Will reaches under our shared blanket and pulls me close. The scent of his strong cologne smacks into me and I cough.
“I had fun. Thanks for being my date,” I say.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t let you break up with me?” he asks.
My jaw drops, just a little. “You let me break up with you?”
He half-smiles. “I could’ve fought harder.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Intensity builds in his eyes. “I thought time apart would … help the situation.”
I wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. “Did it?” I ask.
Will hangs his head. “I’m not sure.”
He throws his arm around me and we fall asleep. When I wake in the middle of the night, he’s gone.
***
Mel shakes me awake, saying she has to go to some event somewhere for one of the million clubs she’s in. Jason left earlier for a game, so Val and I eat breakfast out on the patio. Frankly, the basement didn’t smell all that great with twenty people down there, sleeping off the prom.
“How was last night?” she asks.
I give her a look. “You were there.”
“After we went to sleep.” She air-quotes the word sleep. “You didn’t do…anything, right?”
I drop my fork onto my plate. “With Will?”
She bites her lip to control her laughter. “I guess not. I just thought….”
I lean closer to her. “You didn’t? Did you?”
“With Jason? The guy I’m not officially dating?” She shakes her head. “On the floor? In my yucky basement? No way.”
“Hello, ladies.” Will’s voice has me jumping out of my seat. Val chokes on her bite of toast. “Ready to go, Becca? I know it’s early, but since we’re both awake … ”
“Sure. All set.” I pop up from my chair, clear my plate, and wave goodbye to Val.
Will drives me home in silence. After the long night, we’re both tired. He pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine.
“This is weird,” he says. “We’re not fighting.”
I give him a sidelong glance. “Um … Isn’t that better?”
Will frowns. “I thought it would be. But, it’s not working, is it?”
I glance out the window, half-wishing I’d jumped out of the car when I had the chance. “I’m sorry, Will. I do like you.”
“I’m sorry, too. I, uh, wanted to wait until after graduation,” he says, running a hand through his blond hair, still gelled in place, twelve hours later. “To say this. But, I can’t.”
I turn to face him. I owe him my full attention.
He clears his throat. “I think we’re better as friends.”
“Me, too,” I whisper. “I wish we could be more.”
He kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks for taking me to the prom.”
I smile, a real smile. Will grins back. We’ll survive this breakup. Will’s strong. And no one can destroy me the way Travis did.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Three and half months post-Travis and spring has finally arrived in full force. Yes, I still count the days we’ve been apart, even though Will was in and out of my life again. Basketball season has come and gone. Last week, Dad emailed my summer travel itinerary. I’m really leaving.
Friday afternoon, on my way out for a quick jog, the familiar white paint of Travis’s truck stops me dead in my tracks. He’s home. Go knock on the door. An evil voice rages inside my head. Just a friendly, neighborly hello.
Travis is so close. My hands twitch. My heartbeat ignites to a fever pitch. An uncontrollable impulse draws me toward the carriage house, like I’m being sucked into a magnetic force field.
I reach the half-way mark, the point of no return, when a car zips into Travis’s driveway. Chelsea Reed jumps out, her dark pony tail swinging as she marches to the front door and pounds it with her fist. I flinch, half-expecting the wood to splinter from her super-karate girl strength. Travis opens the door. But he looks past Chelsea, like he knows I’m coming for him. Our eyes meet and for one shockin
g second I’m immobilized.
“Becca.” Travis calls to me. The sound of his voice wipes away my imaginary force field. My body snaps into flight mode. Pivoting around, I pace a record-breaking 100-yard dash back to my house. I sprint through the kitchen and up the back stairs, searching for Avery.
“Do you still talk to Bethany Reed?” I burst through the door to my sister’s bedroom, blurting out the question before I fully catch my breath. Avery looks up from her teen magazine.
“Sometimes. She’s in the dance class right after mine. Advanced toe shoes. Why?” Avery casually slides her arm across her flowery pink bedspread to close her laptop, but not before I notice the website listing competitive ballroom tryouts. She can’t sign-up until she scrounges up a dance partner and hasn’t had much luck finding someone at the Harmony School of Dance.
“Can you find out if Chelsea is dating Travis again?”
“What? No!” Avery hoists herself off the bed. “How could he? She’s pond scum.”
“Pond scum?”
Avery plants her hands on the tiny bones jutting out from her hips. “She was mean to you.”
“She just stared at me a few times. She never tried to hurt me.”
“But you know what those stares meant.” Avery jabs her finger in the air. “What does Travis see in her?”
“Just find out if they’re back together, okay?”
I stalk out of her room, deciding to postpone my jog in favor of some quality ceiling-staring time. Before I leave for Africa, I’ll tell Gran about the maze of cracks up there. My eyes drift open and closed. Right as I nod off, Avery pops her head in my room.
“I couldn’t wait until class, so I called Bethany. She says Travis and Chelsea got back together. Kind of. They’re allowed to see other people. Travis said he doesn’t want to be in a relationship.”
“And Chelsea’s okay with that?”
“Supposedly. She visits him at college every weekend.”
I dig my nails into the downy softness of my pillow. “Really?”
“Straight from the sister’s mouth.” Avery gives me a sad smile. “You want to go egg his house?”
“Tempting, but I think he would easily figure us out. And Gran would be mad.”
“Not necessarily. I updated her on the Chelsea situation. She’s on the phone with Mrs. H. right now getting confirmation.”
I sigh. “Mr. Brennen’s always been good to us. I can’t throw eggs at his windows.”
“I guess you’re right.” Avery’s nose wrinkles. “Remember that time he tried to set a trap for the rabbits eating Gran’s flowers and got skunked instead?”
I nod. “Poor Mr. Brennen.”
Avery leans on the door frame, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I could deliver a message to Travis for you. Something with black roses or a creepy garden gnome.”
“No, thanks. If I need to talk to him, I can do it myself.”
The weekend drags on and Travis never emerges from his house. Chelsea’s car comes and goes. The truck stays cemented in the driveway. I can’t help but check on it ten, twenty, thirty times each day.
For the first time since our breakup, I’m seething with anger. How could Travis treat me like this, inviting other girls to his house and refusing to acknowledge my existence? Would it kill him to knock on the door, say hello, thanks for the birthday text, Becca. Sorry I forgot your birthday, Becca. I’ve been a total jerk, Becca, let’s try to work something out.
But, I digress.
I wonder if he ever truly cared about me. Was I just another check on his dating bucket list? Was everything he told me a bunch of lies? Why was it so easy for him to run back to black-belt Chelsea and forget about me?
After dinner, I soak up the warm evening on the patio with a bowl of jelly beans, deciding to pump sugar into my body until I feel sick. I’m tired of eating healthy. I hate sports and all the hard work it takes to keep in shape. School sucks, too. I separate the jelly beans by color on the picnic table and pick out the gross-tasting black ones. In the middle of this exercise, Travis strolls out of his house. He stuffs two huge duffle bags into the back seat of his truck. Without stopping to think about what good could possibly come from talking to him, I abandon my candy and storm across the damp grass. Travis pauses when he sees me coming, a backpack dangling from his hand. Our eyes lock, he tosses the bag in the truck, slams the door shut, and waits.
“Travis.”
“Becca.”
Silence.
I cross my arms over my chest. “So … you and Chelsea?”
He looks at the ground. “No.”
And now, I am beyond mad. “Oh, please. She practically moved in this weekend. And I know she visits you at college, so don’t try to deny it.”
He leans against the side of the truck, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s my friend, Becca.”
I kick one foot forward, closing in on him without actually moving. “We were friends. But you never asked me to visit you at college.”
A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Would you have been allowed to visit me at college?”
My legs start to shake, but I stand my ground. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”
Silence.
“Do you hate me?” I ask.
“No.”
“Really? Because the way you act … I mean, we’re not even friends anymore. You’re friends with your other exes. Why not me?”
He straightens his stance, finally accepting that he needs to deal with my wrath. “We can try being friends again, Becca. When you’re ready. You’re not ready, yet, though.”
“How do you know what I’m ready for?”
“But I’ve known you since the day you were born. You’re not ready to be friends because you’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry! I thought we had a deal and then suddenly you’re all ‘don’t wait for me, Becca.’”
His eyes drift toward the empty treehouse. “You got it. I was a jerk. You have every right to hate me. But we can’t be friends if you’re mad. You have to be … indifferent.”
“That’s impossible.” I shake my head, a furious heat flooding my face. “I know how I felt about you. I’ll never be indifferent.”
He gives me a sad smile. “Someday, you will … I promise.”
“Hah. That someday is not happening, Travis.” My voice shakes, so I bite my lip to control my emotion. New blades of green grass creep out from the lawn, sprouting through gravel in the patch of driveway between us. As the sun pulls the last of its faded tangerine rays behind thin clouds, Travis moves closer. His hands fall to my waist and I rest my head against his chest.
“It’s not easier,” I confess. “I don’t understand—”
He leans in and kisses me. Out in the open, where anyone could see us. My arms reach up and around his neck, tears sliding down my cheeks. Nothing has changed. And then the wall drops back into place.
“Becca.” With a sigh, Travis pulls away. “I’m leaving.”
He kicks a loose rock from the driveway to the grass.
I swallow hard. “So am I. This summer. I’m going to Africa.”
His head snaps up and he starts to say something, but I’m already turning away from him, running away, refusing to look back.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Smack in the middle of my fifth month post-Travis, confusion reigns. Five months is longer than our pseudo-relationship. I’ve only seen him twice since he broke off our relationship. We never talk or text. Why can’t I move on?
I refuse to live in the past, but I still want a future with Travis. I want to watch the stars with him on a warm summer night, while fireflies dance in the air, and the grass grows a wild shade of green. I want to kiss him good-bye, knowing he’ll always come back to me.
But, I’m leaving for Africa in three days. My bags are packed.
After school, I pick Avery up from dance practice. I’ve conditioned myself not to look at the carriage house, but she notices the return o
f the truck.
“Um, Becca. I think Travis is home. Are you okay?”
“No,” I admit, only to her. I’m so not okay. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” She touches my arm. Tears brim in her eyes. Only Avery understands the depth of my pain. She senses my inability to get over Travis.
“Thanks, but I need to be alone.” I cross the yard, stopping at the deserted treehouse. I haven’t been inside since Travis and I broke apart, because I’ve always thought of it as our place. Even five months later, brushing my fingertips against the rough bark of the old oak wrenches my heart.
Before I give into my desire and run to him, I take off. I roam the woods, careful to step over silver maple roots crawling along the ground like wooden snakes. A blast of late spring humidity seeps into the air, cutting into my lungs. My tears flow slowly, painfully, for over an hour. Just the sight of the truck tore me in half again. At least I’m sure about my decision to leave this summer. I can’t stay here with Travis so close. How can I pretend he isn’t the only boy I’ve ever loved? I’m afraid I’ll never love anyone else the way I love him.
The sky darkens and raindrops slip between the leaves overhead. When I feel strong enough, I turn toward home. I need to talk to him one last time. I need to get the words out – the sentence he refused to let me finish when he told me we were over. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he needs to hear me. He needs to know that I loved him.
I retrace my mud-drawn footsteps. When I break free of the dense forest, the sun has disappeared. Black clouds swirl in the sky. The rain picks up, stinging my arms and face.
I knock on Travis’s door. Wait a moment and then pound harder. Feel the headlights of the truck watching me, as if they’re part of him. When no one answers, I head for the treehouse. I’m a mess. Gran can’t see me like this. I step onto the ladder. The boards above me creak and groan. The sound of it nearly causes me to lose my grip.
“Who’s up there?”
Above me, Travis’s face appears. “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
My Clueless Broken Heart (School Dayz Book 3) Page 15
