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Him: I miss you.
Today before sunrise…
Him: Good morning. Can we meet after school today?
Today, mid-morning…
Him: Be mad if you want, but at least talk to me. Don’t shut me out.
Today, an hour ago during fourth period…
Him: Fine. You win.
It was lunch,and I was so nauseous I couldn’t eat. I was miserable but also still confused and hurt and angry. But mostly at myself.
I wanted to answer every single text, but I stopped myself each time I started to.
Was I overreacting?
Yes. Probably so.
But also, how could he say that? And not even understand how utterly humiliating it was to screw up so bad on stage. In front of Mandy Harper! I remembered her words during the audition, telling me I wasn’t right for this role. Basically telling me I wasn’t good enough for the lead. When I’d ruined Act Three, I thought she was right. All of those feelings of not being good enough rushed to the surface.
Even though I wanted to slap that smug smile right off Mandy’s face, I was also drowning in feelings of inadequacy. I just wanted to get away from it all. Even from him.
But why did I want to get away from Bennett? He hadn’t done anything wrong.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering what he said to me. What he accused me of. Those were the words that hit me the hardest. I’d reacted in anger, refusing to believe him, but the truth was starting to sink in. And that hurt even more.
His last text kept haunting me, my stomach flipping for the hundredth time with a sinking fear.
Was he done with me?
“Figures,” I muttered.
“What figures?”
“You know?” I snapped to Finn. “Just because Bennet and I had mind-blowing sex and I happened to let him in my back door doesn’t mean I’m in love with him.”
Finn coughed on his bite of sandwich, eyes watering as he picked up his water and took a swallow. “Jesus, Betty. Give me some warning next time.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Now, what are you babbling about?”
I hadn’t told Finn the entire conversation I’d had with Bennett after Sunday’s show. Only that we’d fought about my fuck-up on stage, and I’d told him we needed a break.
“I was just thinking about our last night together.” I dropped my face in my hands. “I cried after sex, Finn.”
“That bad?”
“No.” I huffed a sad laugh. “That good.” I swallowed hard, remembering how overcome I’d been. I couldn’t even put into words what I’d felt that night. “Nothing had ever felt so good.”
“Get it, Bennett.”
“Shut up. It wasn’t the sex.”
He dropped his half-eaten sandwich. “I’m so confused.”
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” I heaved out a sigh. “Bennett accused me of pushing him away not because of our fight about the play but because of my—” I air quoted— “daddy issues. Because he loved me and I was afraid of loving him back.” I snorted. “Can you believe that?”
Finn sat back in his chair, watching me far too closely. “He’s right.”
