Chapter Eleven
Flora
My mood is glorious when I get up on Monday. The air tastes fresher, my hair shines brighter, and even the Wi-Fi connection seems to be working better. Hanging out with Raymond turned out to be exactly what I needed, and thinking back, the fight with Sean was totally unnecessary.
I overreacted. I’ll apologize, come clean about Raymond, he’ll understand, and we’ll sing a duet and ride off into the sunset.
I can’t even remember why I lied last night—alcohol does make me stupid.
Sean calls me after his exam and basketball practice, and I suggest dinner. He comes to pick me up, and on the way to the restaurant, he barely says a word. A perfect blue storm forms behind his eyes.
Oh no. He must’ve bombed the exam. What if he thinks it’s my fault?
“So, was the exam hard?” I ask carefully.
“No.”
“Do you think you did well?”
He doesn’t answer, and then he takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at me. “Did you have fun last night?”
Abrupt change of subject. He obviously hasn’t done well and wishes to drop it. Now’s not the moment to bring up Raymond. “I had an okay time.” I fix the hem of my skirt.
“How are Sarah and Jess?”
“Oh, they’re fine. You know.” I run a hand through my hair. “But I’d much rather spend time with you.”
“Sure you would.”
The silence that follows is thick. Even though I may have complained about his test quite a bit, I truly wish him success. Seeing the dark smudges under his eyes, my heart sinks. “Sean, what’s wrong?”
He heaves a sigh, heavy and tired. “I can’t eat like this.” He pulls over to the side of the road. We’re nowhere near the restaurant.
“Is this about ditching me for your exam? It’s fine—”
“I did not ditch you.” He turns to face me square. “Ditching you would mean we had plans, and I bailed. I’ve never done that to you.”
“Pretty sure you took physics this morning, not the SAT verbal section.” I attempt a joke, but it comes out strained.
“Everything always has to be about you, right? I told you that test mattered to me, and you had to give me a hard time. If the roles were reversed, I’d have supported you.”
The tension coils in my stomach. “You didn’t support me when I wanted to buy that Burberry coat,” I can’t resist saying, hoping he’d grace me with a smile. A reluctant one will do, please. Sean has never talked to me like this before, and my palms start to sweat.
“Quit trying to be cute. It’s funny when you twist my words around to flirt, but I sure as hell am not flirting with you now.”
His words hit me like a slap. I’m too stunned to speak. Tears well in my eyes, but I blink fast, refusing to let them fall. I don’t know how to handle Sean like this. My stomach tightens, half out of fear, half out of a small rumbling ball of fury.
“I don’t know if I’ll get another chance, so I’m going to say everything I’ve wanted to tell you.
” His eyes flash. “You’re a piece of work, Flora.
You’re self-centered and insensitive. It’s exhausting trying to keep up with you.
I really tried. I let you decide what we do, what we eat, who we hang out with, but that’s still not enough for you.
I can’t drop everything to be with you every second, and even if I could, I doubt you’d be satisfied.
I don’t know what more you want from me. ”
My brain can’t process so much information at once, so I randomly pick a sentence and respond to that. “I didn’t ask you to drop everything!”
“Well, the minute I couldn’t deliver, you gave up on me, right? You had to punish me.”
Punish him? My mind scrambles for meaning. Because I lost my temper? I slammed his car door? I ignored a couple of his calls and—oh shoot. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back yesterday,” I say, the memory clicking into place. “But it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Don’t worry, I get it. You had more exciting company last night,” he says, unusually sarcastic. “That’s exactly the point. I’d never have forgotten to call you. When you have something better to do, you couldn’t care less about me, but if you’re bored, I’m supposed to show up instantly.”
My chest tightens. That’s not even close to fair. He’s so far off base I can’t think straight. “How could you say that? I care about you above everything else. I—I more than care about you. I love you!”
I didn’t plan on saying it. I wasn’t even sure I was ready to feel it. But now that it’s out there, trembling between us, I know it’s true.
My hand grips the edge of the seat. “I love you.”
Sean’s jaw clenches. “You don’t love me. All through life, everyone has spoiled you, and you’re in love with yourself.”
When I imagined myself saying I love you to another person, I expected them to do one of the following:
a. Say “I love you too.”
b. Smile.
c. Tactfully avoid the question by kissing me.
But Sean disregards my words as he has every thoughtful gift, every gesture, including the invitation for a night together at my parents’ lake house. The sting in my chest twists, sharp and searing, until it erupts into rage. “What’s your problem?”
“You don’t take this relationship seriously. I took a chance on us, and I should’ve known better. I was so excited when we went exclusive, but now I’m disappointed,” he says, each word dropping with weight, crushing me.
Why’s he doing this to me?
He has more purpose in life and more important things to do, I get it.
I’m a dumb, pretty cheerleader who lucked out and got his attention, and I’ve been flipping over backward to stay on his good side.
I tried my best to be understanding, to stay out of his way, and I already forgave him for the stupid fight on Saturday. But he’s lashing out at me.
“I’m disappointed too!” My voice cracks.
“And for the record, I put a lot of effort into this relationship. Too bad you find it challenging to keep up. I’m the one planning our dates because you sure can’t come up with anything worth doing, and funny how that was never a problem before.
” I inhale, my breath shuddering. “You know what? Sorry to waste your time. If you’re so miserable, maybe we should break up. ”
I say it out of spite, of course. One of those stupid heat-of-the-moment outbursts. I don’t want to break up with him, not even for one second.
For a moment, it seems to snap Sean out of whatever drug he’s on. His eyes flicker, but then something shifts. His expression flattens, and that small flicker snuffs out entirely. He runs his eyes over my face. “Yeah, maybe we should.”
The words hang in the air. I must’ve heard wrong.
But his face is calm, unreadable. He means it. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach—the hollow, sinking certainty. My heart stops. For once it isn’t because of how cute he is.
“Fine.”
Getting out of his car, I slam the door. This is how we end every conversation lately. It isn’t until I’m standing in the cold winter air that I register the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Sean drives off and doesn’t look back.
* * *
With great difficulty, I scrape up the broken pieces of myself, Uber home, and call Madison and Carmen to join me, but I hesitate about Josie. Maybe she has to be Sean’s friend right now.
All three of them show up together, and Josie wraps me in a hug as soon as I open the door. Carmen holds a box of chocolate chip cookies and cartons of ice cream (vegan options included for Madison). I break down the moment I see them.
“I don’t understand,” I say between hiccups. “I thought we were going great!”
“Technically, you broke up with him,” Madison offers as a consolation. “So you can tell everyone you dumped him.” In her world, the first thing to clarify after a breakup is who ended it.
Carmen rubs my back as we sink into the couch.
“Is this whole happy-couples thing my illusion? How could he blindside me like this? He called me spoiled, self-centered, and insensitive!”
“I get it,” Carmen says, although I doubt she does. The girl has never had a boyfriend in her sixteen years of life (not that there’s anything wrong with that). “It’s bad enough when the relationship is going stale, but to break up with no warning makes it that much harder.”
Madison crosses her legs. Her hair gleams in polished waves, brushed out to that perfect Old Hollywood finish. “You only dated for a few months. He turned out to be a jackass, but you got out in time. There’s no use crying over a high-school jock. Even stray cats are more likable than they are.”
Josie shakes her head. She always says she can’t represent two parties with conflicting interests. “Sean’s usually not like this.”
“He blew his test and took it out on you,” Madison says.
“Sean would never do that,” I say. “Blow his test, I mean. He’s a genius on the way to a Nobel Prize.” I shift my attention to Josie again. She’s the mutual friend, after all. “Jo . . . can you ask him? And your earrings are awesome.”
“Aw, thanks. Even when you’re sad, you appreciate the bling.
I already called him on my way over. He said it’s none of my business and that he doesn’t want to hear anything about you.
” Josie rakes her hand through her tousled, blunt-cut bob.
“He’s never this moody and sullen. I can call him again if you want. Really, I’m happy to do it.”
“I just don’t understand. Any insights you might have—did he break up with all his exes this way?” As my dad says, past behavior is the best predictor.
Carmen hands me a tissue and grabs one for herself.
“Sean’s pretty unmotivated about dating,” Josie says.
“To him, it’s like riding in a boat floating downstream.
If the weather’s nice and the water’s calm, then sure, but he has no interest in an upstream battle against currents.
Usually the girls ask him out, and he goes along with it until it’s not convenient anymore, like when she moves away or—”
“Or gets in the way of a physics test,” Madison finishes.
I chased Sean too. I threw myself at him, and I guess he accepted me. But not anymore.