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“We all screw up from time to time, Cass. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” I smile and she gives me a watery smile back. “And if Shane didn’t notice you before, well now you sure have his attention, right?”
“Damn, you’re right.”
She laughs, a strangled sound, and I laugh, too. People stare as we giggle uncontrollably, wiping at our eyes. Too much tension, too much drama. Too many feelings. And we laugh and laugh, weeping, letting it out.
“I’ll tell Seth,” I gasp after a while, sitting up straighter. “How I feel.”
Cassie nods, rubbing her hands over her face. “You do that.”
Too many half-lies and untruths, too many ambiguities. If there’s one thing Cassie’s story tells me is that I need to come clean.
No matter how much the thought of his rejection scares me.
***
Still, I put off talking to him. My excuse is the new classes, the notes I have to bum off people I hardly know, my meetings with professors to let them know about myself and why I suddenly appeared in their classrooms. Show them my transfer papers. See what I need to catch up on.
Need to call my mom, tell her about this new turn in my life.
But I put that off as well. One thing at a time, right? Get settled into this new timetable, talk to Seth, and then my mom.
As it turns out, though, it’s not any of them I talk to first. It’s Fred.
He calls as I climb into my car after doing the rounds of the professors and lecturers, and I answer without even checking the caller ID.
“Madeline?” He sounds unsure, which is unlike Fred, but I know his voice too well. “Hello?”
I still. Everything around me stills. A wave of anger and sadness rises inside my chest. “Hey.”
“How are you doing? Haven’t heard from you lately.”
“Yeah. Been busy. You know, changing my studies, like I told you. Letting the system win. Giving up. Turns out giving up is an exhausting process.”
Okay, I’m being a bitch, but he’s a lying cheat, so we’re not even close to getting even.
“Gosh, Madeline. I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it. The giving up part.”
“Do I?” I grip the steering wheel with one hand. “There’s a lot I don’t know, apparently. Like the fact that you won’t kiss me, but have no trouble whatsoever kissing the busty blonde I saw you with a few days ago.”
Good lord, was it just a few days ago?
“You saw… Oh, Madeline. Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Shit.”
A pause. I think he’s swearing, but I can’t make out the words. I prepare to hang up. So much for explanations.
He clears his throat. “Hey, can we meet? I need to talk to you.”
“We are talking.” And I’m not sure I want to see him.
“Please, Madeline. I swear I can explain this. You mean a lot to me.”
Bullshit. He’s a frigging liar.
Then why do I hesitate? Why don’t I just send him to hell?
“Please,” he says again. “Can’t do this over the phone. Are you at the university?”
