22. Chapter 22
Beth
“ E xcuse me?”
I stared at the spot against the bookshelf Carter had me pressed against less than forty-eight hours ago.
There were marks in the dust where my hair had been—where my hands grabbed for support.
Tracing my finger across the shelf, my heart shattered in my chest. A lump grew in my throat at the same time that my eyes started to burn, and I closed them.
“Uh, excuse me?”
I spun around, seeing a girl at the end of the aisle that I half-recognized. She had been in here before. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” I sniffed, turning around to put a book back on the shelf and casually wipe my eyes like she wouldn’t see it. Then I turned back. “What can I help you with?”
“Are you okay?” The girl stepped forward. So much for her not seeing me cry.
“Yes. Yeah. I’m cool.” I waved my hand vaguely like it brushed away any concern she should feel. “It’s just my allergies or dust or something.” Smooth, Beth.
She lifted a brow, pursing her lips like she was debating whether or not to push me for more details.
I wouldn’t have believed me either. When she decided it wasn’t worth it to get involved, she gave me a sympathetic look instead.
One that maybe said she understood what it was like to have her heart broken by the guy who wasn’t technically her boyfriend but who definitely took her virginity, and she was really starting to like him anyway.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” I wasn’t sure, but I had already spun the things Benny had said in circles in my mind so many times I was dizzy.
It still didn’t feel like it could be real, but if Benny could use me the way he did, then why shouldn’t Carter do the same?
All men were basically the same. I sighed, and she cleared her throat reminding me that I wasn’t alone.
She looked past me like the shelf I was staring at was going to answer her questions.
“Right, sorry. I’m sure.” I wiped my hands off on the front of my skirt like there was something on them. “Can I help you with something?”
“Can you help me find this book?” The folded paper in her hand looked like a reprieve, and I stepped forward, taking it from her. The words on the page looked foreign, but I knew where the book was. I had spent a lot of time staring at it.
I nodded. “It’s right over here.” I walked back toward the shelf I wanted to spend less time with and grabbed the book Carter had helped put back on the shelf the first time he came to the library. My hands shook when I took it down, wincing when I thought I might drop it. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” she said softly, taking the book from me and cradling it in her arm. “And hey, I hope your day gets better. I don’t know you, and I don’t know what you’re going through, but you look really sad. Nobody deserves to be that sad. Maybe things will work out.”
When she smiled, tears stung my eyes again.
Maybe things will work out.
He’s not that into you, you know.
“Thank you,” I said, nodding gently. “I hope so too.”