Chapter 60
Julia
The Beckley Theater doesn’t even look like Beckley Theater anymore.
It’s unrecognizable in the most ridiculous, over-the-top, badass way.
The velvet curtains glow under strobe lights.
Jack-o’-lanterns line the aisles. There’s a DJ in the orchestra pit and actual fire dancers twirling onstage like we’re in some underground club in Europe instead of a campus theater.
Seeing all of this makes a surge of pride fill my chest. Ace has taken on the responsibility of Double C, and he’s doing it in a way that only he can do. Lexi was a fantastic president, but Ace, well, he’s taken Double C to another level.
He’s made it his own. And I’m really proud of him for that.
“Holy hell, this is unbelievable, but I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise,” Scottie says next to me, eyes wide. “Once Ace Kelly became the president, shit was gonna get wild.”
I don’t answer her. I’m too busy searching the room.
And then I find him.
He’s standing near the stage, wearing a pirate costume—if pirates wore sexy velvet coats and partially unbuttoned shirts that showed off stupidly perfect collarbones. He’s chaos and confidence wrapped into one hot package.
And he’s not alone.
Scarlett is standing beside him.
My stomach twists at the sight of her. She’s in a devil costume, all legs and boobs and red lips and high heels. She’s draped over him, laughing like he’s the funniest person she’s ever met, touching his arm like she belongs there.
My hand aches. I flex my fingers against the bandage, the gauze still wrapped around my palm. The throb is dull but insistent, and not because of the stitches.
It’s because of him. Because of last night.
Because Ace took care of me without question, like he’s done so many times before.
And I didn’t feel scared last night. Because Ace was there.
I force myself to look away. My eyes land on the bar, where Drew is ordering drinks. The female bartender is smiling at him, laughing, and leaning a little too close. She flicks her hair over her shoulder, and it’s a very flirtatious move.
I know that move. Every girl knows that move.
And yet, I feel…nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion.
Which is somehow so much worse than jealousy.
Because if I cared—if I still really cared—I’d be mad. I’d feel something. Instead, I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for weeks, pretending this thing with Drew still has life in it.
I glance at Scottie, my voice barely above a whisper, but the words fly out of my mouth unchecked. “I think I need to break up with him.”
Scottie jerks her head toward me. “Wait. What?”
I keep staring at the bar. “I can’t do it anymore. It feels cruel.”
Scottie doesn’t say anything. She threads her arm through mine and gives it a quiet squeeze.
Before I can say anything else, Drew is already walking back over with two plastic cups of beer.
He hands me one, and I down half of it in one go. It’s not even good beer, but I don’t care. I need something in my hands.
“Thirsty?” he asks with a laugh.
Scottie’s watching us with wide eyes, like she’s witnessing something she’s not supposed to be seeing. She sips her drink and avoids eye contact like it’s her job.
And I stare down into my cup like the answers might be floating in the foam.
What the hell am I doing?
Sure, Drew is good guy. A nice guy. He likes me, and he wants to be with me. But I don’t feel it. Not the way I’m supposed to. Not the way I feel when Ace looks at me like he’s gravity and I’m free-falling straight toward him.
I glance across the room again—back at Ace.
He’s still talking to Scarlett.
He’s out of reach. Maybe moving on.
Except, last night, he wasn’t. Last night, he was right there. He was with me.
I turn back toward the stage, letting the music pulse through me like it can drown out everything I don’t want to feel. The bass. The lights. The bodies packed around me.
My heart pounds in time with the beat.
I’ve made a mess. A complete mess. And it’s all because I’ve spent years pretending I haven’t been in love with Ace Kelly my entire damn life.
And now, it’s like I don’t know how to stop.
“I think I need another drink,” I announce to Drew and Scottie, but my feet are already heading toward the bar.
Getting drunk isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but it sure seems like the easiest option.
The party is still pulsing all around me—lights flickering, bodies moving, music so loud it vibrates in my ribs—but I feel like I’m stuck behind glass. Like I’m watching it all happen from somewhere else entirely.
Drew leans in close, shouting to be heard over the noise. “You wanna dance?”
I blink at him, my cup long since empty. I’ve chugged three shitty beers in the last thirty minutes, and while I’m definitely buzzing, it’s not the kind of drunk that makes anything feel easier. Just fuzzier. Louder. More complicated.
I look past Drew, my eyes drawn to wherever Ace is.
He’s on the dance floor. There’s a circle of girls around him.
Sorority girls. Double C girls. I don’t even know.
They’re all dressed in some version of sexy and supernatural.
A vampire. A witch. A fairy. Scarlett’s back too—looking like she was poured into her devil costume and like she knows exactly what to do with it.
Ace isn’t dancing with any of them, not really. He’s just there. Laughing. Smirking. Moving in rhythm while they orbit him like he’s the fucking sun.
My stomach clenches. My chest aches. My fingers curl into fists at my sides.
Drew’s voice cuts through the fog again. “Wanna dance?”
And it’s all too much. The reality is too glaring. “I can’t do this anymore, Drew.”
He frowns. “What?”
“This. Us.” I confess the truth, and his brow furrows in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t be with you anymore.”
“Julia?” He takes a step back. “Are you drunk?”
“Yes,” I admit without hesitation. “But I’m also right.”
The music is pounding, and there are people everywhere—laughing, shouting, dancing—and suddenly, I can’t breathe.
I grab Drew’s hand and tug him with me, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet alcove off to the side. It’s dark and half hidden behind one of the giant velvet curtains.
“I’m sorry, Drew. I know this feels like it’s coming out of left field, but I can’t be with you anymore.
It’s not fair to you,” I say, and tears well in my eyes when I realize how badly I’ve strung him along.
It doesn’t matter if Ace is moving on; the fact remains that I’m in love with him.
I have been in love with him since before I even knew what love was.
And I can’t, in good conscience, be in a relationship with someone when my heart wants someone else.
“What do you mean, it’s not fair to me?” He tugs his hand away. “I don’t understand.”
“You were right,” I say. “You were right about Ace having feelings for me. But you weren’t aware that I have feelings for Ace too.
The night you asked me to be your girlfriend, he came over to my apartment and told me he was in love with me.
He kissed me and I kissed him back, and I’m so sorry I did that.
I know it was wrong, and I should’ve been honest with you, but that’s what happened. ”
“You fucking kissed him? While we were together?”
“I’m sorry, Drew. I’m so, so sorry.”
“And you decided now, in the middle of a fucking party, is the right time to tell me all of this? The right time to break up with me?”
“I’m so, so sorry,” I say again, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t plan this. I didn’t want it to go like this with us, but I feel like I’m lying to myself. And I’m lying to you. And I don’t want to keep doing that.”
“So, this is it?” His face hardens. “You’re literally breaking up with me?”
My eyes sting. “You’re great, Drew. You’re kind. You’ve been patient with me, and I’ve been trying so hard to be the girl who deserves that. Be the girl who you deserve. But I’m not that girl for you.”
I look down at my bandaged hand, the reminder of everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours pressing down like a weight on my chest. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say. “But I think staying with you would hurt you more.”
He stares at me like he’s trying to find the version of me he thought he knew somewhere inside this mess.
And then he simply…shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t yell. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t call me a bitch for kissing another guy while we were together.
He just walks away.
And leaves me standing there alone.
Tears slip from my eyes almost immediately. I blink them back, trying not to let them fall, but it’s impossible. Everything feels like a disaster. A slow-motion, heart-wrecking disaster of my own making, and I am definitely the bitch for breaking the heart of an actual good guy.
I step out of the alcove and glance toward the dance floor again.
Ace.
He’s still surrounded by other girls. Scarlett’s with him again, all long legs and fake horns and devilish confidence. She leans in close, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and whispers something in his ear.
And then he looks up. Right at me.
Our eyes lock—for just a second.
But it’s enough to make my chest cave in on itself.
I look away first, and I don’t wait around. Don’t stop to explain or fix anything.
I hightail it to the nearest exit and leave.