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“If you have something to say, Annabelle, just say it. I don’t want to play these games. My friends are waiting for me.” I keep the anger of the past out of my tone and just speak straight.
Still, her mouth pops open, and her eyes widen. I’m not the same guy I used to be with her, and I don’t feel like pretending.
“But not your girlfriend?”
She’s asking me to spell out that I’m not with Holly. Like asking me to twist a knife in my own gut.
Well, I don’t owe her that. I don’t owe her anything.
“My relationship status isn’t something I want to discuss with you. I get the feeling you’re asking because of more than just general curiosity. I’m not trying to be mean, but we’re not dating anymore, and I think that’s the best. We didn’t work.”
“I just don’t understand what happened. We were perfect together.”
This only emphasizes my point. The fact that she has no idea how I felt about our relationship means communication really hadn’t existed. We were just surface level.
“It wasn’t perfect for me. This isn’t going to happen between us, and it’s not because there’s someone else.” That’s mostly true.
When I broke up with Annabelle, it was for my own reasons. But, now, even after just spending a short time with Holly, I’ve glimpsed what real attraction is. Maybe, without her, I would have relapsed and gone back to Annabelle. Now, I know I never will.
“But what did I do wrong?” She still has her fingers curled around my arm, her grip becoming tighter and making my fistula itch and ache.
“Nothing. You were just yourself, and that’s completely fine, but we don’t work together. Don’t change who you are. Just find someone who wants to be with you. I’m going now.”
I disengage from her grasp and head downstairs before she can call me back to fix something that never worked right in the first place. I’m ready for something new. Something that feels right.
I’m ready for Holly.
HOLLY
Ben and Annabelle definitely aren’t over. They disappeared upstairs twenty minutes ago, which I know because I keep checking the clock on the wall. Before, I was happy to sidestep spending more time around her, but now, even Jasper’s constant stream of dry humor can’t keep me distracted from the fact that the guy I’ve been silently stuck on is likely sticking it to another girl at this very moment.
Why did Ben even invite me? I get that we came as friends, but does that make it okay for him to go hook up with his ex after only being here for five minutes?
Silly me got excited about the invite. Thought I’d have some college-aged fun with my new friend. And, yeah, maybe the back chunk of my brain that always ignores reason developed a few different hopes. There might have been a fantasy or two about finding a dark corner, pressing myself against Ben as he ran his hands along the curves of my body.
Instead, I’m still here, dancing with Jasper. Not that he isn’t a great-looking, fun guy. But, for some reason, his fingers wrapped around my waist are less arousing than the gentle brush of Ben’s against the back of my hand.
Stupid hormones.
Embarrassment grows hot in my chest as I realize how ridiculous my unconscious expectations for the night were. Luckily, Jasper utters a naughty joke at that moment, so the heat rising in my cheeks can be explained away by his vulgar mouth.
“I doubt they’re doing anything up there.”
I pull my eyes away from the stairs where they strayed to yet again to find Jasper watching me with a sly curve to his mouth.
I shrug in a lame attempt to play off my vigilance. “Ben’s his own person. If he wants to get back together with his ex, that’s none of my business.”
“Do you want it to be your business?”
Jasper isn’t someone who chooses politeness over discomfort. It was a trait that made me gravitate toward him in class, knowing he’d make an honest classmate. Now, I wish I could just stuff his prying question back down his throat, so I don’t have to admit my crush out loud to yet another person. Instead, I’m stuck, standing here, with his piercing gaze boring into my evasive one.
“I want to be Ben’s friend.” And I also want to make out with him. But I don’t need to articulate that fact. “That’s a good relationship to aim for. With our kidney exchange and all.”
“So, because you’re giving him your kidney means you can’t be anything more than friends?” Jasper slips the hand on my waist up to clasp the one I have resting on his shoulder and proceeds to direct another intricate spin move.
I’m not sure if he just had the inspiration to step up our display or if he’s giving me time to consider my answer. While unraveling from his arm, I notice we’re not the only ones swaying to the music anymore. A few more couples have found the liquid courage to join us.
When I’m back to my original position, facing Jasper, his raised eyebrow demands an answer. I can’t help the defeated sigh, a sound that emerges from my unfulfilled fantasies and the pressure of doing the right thing.
