Chapter 18
AGE 18
Outside Mr. Shoebottom’s Biology class.
I look down at my phone for the tenth time in twenty minutes.
Nothing. Just like the last nine times I checked.
I blow out a breath and glance down the hall, willing Rowan to show up. It’s been three days since our beach make out session and him asking me to prom. It’s also the longest we haven’t talked in over a month. He knows our bio teacher is posting the grades at three o’clock today. Mr. Shoebottom is very old school and refuses to do anything online, even though lots of teachers are starting to do that.
There’s about ten of us standing outside the door, waiting to see our marks a half hour past the end of the school day. The majority of kids will wait until tomorrow to find out, but I just had to know. I’m not worried about my grade, just Rowan’s. I know how important it is that he gets a good grade in order to graduate. Not that he seems as invested as me right now, since he hasn’t even bothered to text me back. I know he’s had intense practices for the rugby championship and Jacob assures me he’s fine, but I’m not sure I believe Jacob—he’s been weird the last few days too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t panicking a bit. I mean, what are the odds I’d find the most incredible guy in my brother’s best friend, and admit to myself that I’m falling for him only to have him drop me? I’d be lying if I said my insecurities weren’t going crazy. I’ve never had anyone touch me like he did… Did I do something wrong? The same familiar sting creeps in as my eyes start to tear up. I’ve gotten too attached to him. I should know better.
Just as I’m about to head to the nearest bathroom I see him round the corner. He wears the familiar royal blue and yellow fitted shorts and T-shirt of our school’s varsity rugby uniform. His matching socks and cleats aren’t dirty yet, which tells me he’s about to head to practice, not coming from it. My breath hitches as I wait for his eyes and that lopsided smirk I think I might be in love with. A few seconds pass before I get those blue eyes. When his gaze lands on mine I expect to relax, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me feel unsettled.
He moves in slow motion toward me with his long easy stride, catching the eye of every red-blooded girl in the hallway.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it,” I manage to get out when he closes the distance between us, looking down at me and pulling all the air from my lungs.
“Hey, sorry…I’ve had some stuff and practice has been, uh?—”
“It’s fine,” I say, looking away, not wanting the awkward excuse I can already feel coming.
He looks around and then grabs my arm, pushing me away from the crowd so we’re standing almost right in front of the bio door.
“No, it’s not, I have been busy…but, I’m just, uh, I’m going through something. Something I didn’t expect.”
“What?” I challenge.
He closes his eyes “I can’t tell you. It’s not my story to tell.”
“Mm-hmm,” I manage to get out. I can feel my palms starting to sweat and the tight feeling in my throat begins to take over.
“The prom…I am so sorry, Violette, but I can’t take you. I have to help someone with something.”
“Who? Why?” I ask
He just looks at me but doesn’t answer.
Anger rushes to my center and I feel my cheeks heat but all I manage to eke out is
“I see,”
“Violette…I’m gonna need to cool things with us for a little while. It’s not—” he whispers, low enough that no one else can hear.
“It’s not you, it’s me? Is that what’s coming my way?” I interrupt him.
He says nothing, he just runs a hand through his hair nervously. “I’m sorry.”
I knew it . I thought something special was happening between us…I thought he felt the same, and now what? He realizes I’m not the kind of girl he usually dates? He doesn’t want to go to the prom with me because of how it will look? I can’t figure out why he would change his mind now. Has he just been trying to figure out how to break this news to me for three days? I swallow down the raging emotion. No matter how hard I try, the words “ you just aren’t good enough” run through my head.
“Also, there’s something else,” he says, his tone defeated. “You’re maybe gonna hear some things about me and Kyleigh Miller.” Kyleigh Miller? The girl who looks at me like I’m a joke every time she sees me?
Rowan’s eyes meet mine and I can’t place the look he’s wearing, but he’s definitely serious as he reaches out and takes my hand into his. “I didn’t fake this with you, Vi…” He gestures to the bio door, and suddenly it’s all very clear. That look he’s wearing? As soon as the words leave his mouth, I know what it is. Guilt. Holy shit.
He used me. He was the first guy I let touch me, the first guy I was ever remotely intimate with. I trusted him and he used me. I pull my hand away from him.
“How convenient this all came up right after we handed in our project. A project I worked on so hard just to make sure you would get a good grade,” I spit out.
“It’s not like that, Vi—fuck, I?—"
“Alright, people, back up so I can hang this,” our white haired, bushy-bearded science teacher says as he makes his way through the bio door with a single piece of paper in his hand, the pin already stuck through the top to be pressed into the corkboard. He walks right between Rowan and me. We back up to let him through, but we never take our eyes off of each other. Mr. Shoebottom pins the document up on the board and students clamour around it.
I force myself to pull my eyes from Rowan’s and will myself not to cry. I move like a robot toward the board, not knowing if he follows me. I find our names immediately. 94 percent. How nice for him. I turn, numb to everything around me. I’m surprised when I see Rowan standing in the exact same spot that he was, looking down at the floor.
I don’t stop walking. I just breeze by him desperate for the bathroom.
“Vi,” he calls after me.
“Vi!” he says, a little louder this time.
I stop and spin around, anger and nausea washing over me. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting for him to speak. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a second, like he can’t find the words he’s looking for. He takes a deep breath and looks up from the floor into my eyes. Even from twenty feet away, they pierce right through me.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, that’s not what this was.”
I scoff feeling the tears that are imminent.
“94 percent, Rowan. Seems it was exactly what it was supposed to be,” I deadpan before turning on my heel and beelining for the bathroom without stopping. Even as I hear him call after me, I don’t stop. I can’t.
The only thing I have left is the shred of dignity I’m holding onto and I won’t let Rowan fucking Kingsley take that from me.