“Thanks for letting me sit with you guys,” I told them. I resisted the urge to turn around and check out Marc’s table, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was watching me. Did he want to know how I was doing? Did he feel any remorse at all?
“So?” Nikki asked.
“What?” I had spaced out. Had she asked me something?
“There is one thing I want to know,” Nikki continued.
Was this going to be a whole rehash of my life with Marc? I didn’t want to talk about him, I didn’t even want to say his name, but I couldn’t just get up and leave. I’d just sat down.
Avery elbowed Nikki, but it didn’t stop her. “What I’m dying to know,” Nikki said after a long dramatic pause, “is how you eat these school lunches. They’re gross.” She made a gagging expression at my lunch, and just like that the subject changed from my public humiliation and Avery’s heroism to the merits of the so-called sloppy joes the cafeteria served up. For a full twenty minutes, I didn’t have to think or talk about Marc.
I finally felt like I could breathe again.
Chapter 9
My Marc respite continued until last period. I dragged my feet from physics to art class. This was it. This was where I was going to be face-to-face—or rather side-by-side—with Marc. Our easels were right next to each other. This was the class I’d fought for so I could be near him. Life was cruel. Not only would it probably put my perfect GPA in jeopardy, but it was going to make me work beside my ex on a project I had zero interest in. Knowing Marc, he’d try to make small talk, see if we could be “friends.” Who would have thought such a nice little word could feel like knives cutting into my skin?
I had to stop stalling. I was going to be late. This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. I marched up to the classroom. This wasn’t a big deal. I could do it—I just needed to go inside, get my supplies, and try to focus on my painting. Yet somehow I couldn’t get my feet to move. Marc was standing just fifteen feet away. His back was to me, but he still made my stomach perform an acrobatic act. I wasn’t sure if it was because I didn’t want to be near him—or because I did. I wasn’t supposed to still want Marc, my brain knew that, but my heart was having a harder time getting the message. I hovered by the door, watching him. He was tying his smock around his waist and talking to Todd. They were both so relaxed. It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to be in there joking around with them, smiling, making fun of our art projects, planning our senior year. Instead the warning bell was sounding, and I was glued to the floor just outside our classroom, gaping at them.
Todd caught me staring.
Just perfect. I gave him a smile, hoping it came off less forced than it felt. Just because Marc and I were over, it didn’t mean things had to be weird with Todd. He was my friend, too. Over the years, I’d hung out with him almost as much as I’d hung out with Grace and Terri.
He nudged Marc’s side. “Looks like someone has a stalker.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat. Why was Todd making fun of me? I stared at him in disbelief, but I shouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. From the look on his face, he was enjoying my reaction. I’d always thought he liked me. Had he just been humoring me all these years for Marc’s sake?
He snorted and slapped the back of his hand on Marc’s chest. “Man, you totally traded up.”
Marc laughed nervously.
Really? He wasn’t defending me. The guy I’d been dating for forever had not only dumped me publicly but was now joining in on crap talk about me? Before I knew it, I was standing inches away from him. My thoughts were flying.
“Seriously. Seriously?” I asked.
He turned around.
I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I’ve cheered you on for how many of your stupid soccer games, quizzed you on SAT words for way longer than is humanly necessary, babysat your brother when your parents were away so you wouldn’t miss practice, and this is how you talk about me?”
“Um—it’s—” he stammered, his focus shifting to my wrist.
Shoot. I was playing with the bracelet again, and he’d noticed. I knew I should have gotten rid of the thing, or at least taken it off, but I felt naked without it, and I was already having a tough enough week.
“I’m—” he continued, but I cut him off. I didn’t want to hear it.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, “you traded up.”
Then the meaning of the words hit me. Marc was already dating. It was hard to breathe. He was really doing it, going out with other people. Experiencing all the “fun” he’d missed out on because he’d been stuck with me. I didn’t know what to do.
I fumbled with my wrist until I got the clasp of the charm bracelet undone. It felt like it was searing my skin. I took it off and threw the thing at him. Then I turned on my heels and made a beeline out of the classroom and straight for the exit.
I was so done with this day.
Chapter 10
Somehow I made it to my house, even though the whole walk home felt like a blur. Marc was really moving on. How was this real? I just needed to lock myself away in my room with a gallon of macaroni and cheese and my favorite rom-coms and live in the world of happily-ever-afters.
I unlocked the door, trying hard to ignore the sight of my naked wrist. The charms from my bracelet always jingled when I turned the doorknob. Now there was an aching silence. Momentarily, anyway.
“Cam!” my mom shouted, slapping her hand over her chest in surprise as I walked into the house.
I jumped back. “Mom!” I’d made it out of school without anyone noticing just to be caught by my mother? When was my luck going to turn around? “What are you doing here this early?”
“I had a meeting nearby, but I think the real question is what are you doing here now?”
My mind raced for a good excuse. “Early dismissal?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
I debated digging deeper into the lie, but my mom had a way of getting to the truth. I decided to fess up early. Maybe it would mean she wouldn’t ground me. Not that I really cared; it wasn’t like I had anywhere I wanted to go.
I went to the living room and flung myself on the couch and told her about art class.
She frowned. “So you cut last period? Cam…”
I hated when she used that disappointed tone of voice.
“I couldn’t stay there, and come on,” I said, “I deserve this. I’ve never skipped. Not once. So missing one class in my senior year is not a big deal.”
“It is when you’re doing it to avoid someone.”
I sat up. “Mom, you don’t get it. Seeing him … him saying … forget it … you wouldn’t understand.”
She sat down next to me and rubbed my back. “Of course I understand. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks.”
“Right,” I said with an extra dose of sarcasm. I’d heard the stories. My dad always talked about how my mom was a “heartbreaker.” She was the one who’d always done the dumping, not the one left crying. “Not the way Dad tells it.”
“Your dad left out some parts.” My parents knew each other in high school, but they didn’t get together until their tenth reunion. “Like my college years.”
I rolled my eyes. She’d had a long-term boyfriend then, too. She’d called it off when she graduated or something like that. “Yeah, I’m sure it was really hard for you to break someone’s heart. Boo-hoo.”
I didn’t care if that was cold. At the moment I felt more sympathy for the dumpee, not the dumper.
“Calling things off with someone you care about, someone you may even love, is not easy, either,” she said.
I jumped up. “You’re seriously going to talk to me about that now? You want me to feel bad for Marc? Great pep talk, Mom.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” she said, taking my hands in hers and guiding me back down to the seat cushion. “Yes, I hurt people, unintentionally, but you can’t stay with someone because you don’t want to hurt their feelings. It’s not good fo
r either of you.” She really sucked at this. Did she want to make me cry again? Where were the happy little slogans she was always spouting? Even those were better than this. Before I could say anything, she continued. “But I’ve been in your shoes, too.”
I waited for her to continue.
“Freshman year at Penn, I was lab partners with my ex-boyfriend. An ex who had been sneaking around with my roommate. When I found out, I still had to work with him for another two months and continue living with my roommate. I couldn’t even escape to my room to get away from it all.”
My eyes bulged and my mouth practically fell to the floor. “What? How have I never heard this story before?”
She squeezed my hands. “Because it was a long time ago. A footnote in my story. It doesn’t define me. If anything, it made me stronger.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. It sounded like torture, even worse than what I was going through now. “How did you deal?”
“One day at a time. I vowed not to let them ruin my college experience. I went out, I did things—even when I didn’t want to. I hung out with my friends, made some new ones, and started dating again. Pretty soon, it became one of those funny roommate horror stories, something to laugh about instead of cry over. Cam, you can’t control how people treat you, but you can control how you react to it. If I could get through that, you can get through this. It’s your senior year; you’re supposed to enjoy it.”
“Not everyone does,” I reminded her.
“You’re not everyone. You’re my daughter. You’re smart, beautiful, stubborn as hell, larger than life, and all-around amazing. If Marc can’t see that, then you don’t want him. But don’t let him take this year from you. You, my love, deserve everything your heart desires, so go out and get it.”
I stood up. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think about it,” she said. “Just do it.”
I groaned. That was all well and good for a Nike ad, but just because I wanted to feel nothing for Marc didn’t mean I knew how to make that a reality.
She stood up and kissed the top of my head. “You got this.”
I nodded.
“And Cam,” she said, “no skipping tomorrow. You’re going to that class.”
I threw my head back. “Can’t you just ground me? Make me stay home?”
“No such luck.”
“Fine, whatever,” I said, heading into the kitchen. I really needed that mac and cheese now.
I raided the fridge for my food supplies and went to my room for some rom-com therapy.
As I was scrolling through my movies on my laptop, FaceTime popped up. It was Terri. Grace’s face was squished up against hers, with Luke’s hovering above so that they could all fit on the screen.
“Where are you?” Grace asked.
My mouth was filled with cheesy goodness, so I just gestured around me at the room.
Terri moved in closer to the camera until she was the only person I was able to see. “We came to meet you after class, so imagine our surprise when we found out you left.”
I put my bowl on the nightstand. I was losing my appetite. I knew my friends were just trying to be there for me. It was super sweet that they wanted to make sure my Marc class had been okay, but it was another reminder of everything that had gone wrong.
“Spill it,” Terri said. “What happened?”
She moved back so the others could see me, too.
I knew they’d get it out of me eventually, so after making sure they were out of earshot of anyone wandering the halls of Brooksvale High, I gave them the gory details of art class and finding out that Marc was apparently already dating.
“I’m sorry, Cam,” Grace said.
I let out a long breath.
“Hey, don’t get upset,” Luke added. “So he’s going on a few dates, it’s not like it means anything.”
Maybe that was true, and there was a chance that after Marc went out with a couple of different people, he’d realize he was meant to be with me.
Terri glared at Luke and then turned her attention back to the phone. “Ignore him. Cam, I know what you’re thinking,” Terri said, “and you need to stop. Marc sucks. You don’t want him back.”
“But he was the one.”
“Nooo!” Terri growled. “He was not ‘the one,’ and you’ve got to stop with that stuff. It’s not going to help. Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, we’re in high school. Who needs that now?”
“But—”
She cut me off, her finger aimed straight at me through her phone. “I will literally scream if you start talking about anagrams.”
I wasn’t going to, although it was a pretty good guess. I may have on a few (give or take a hundred) occasions mentioned how cute it was that the letters in Cam made up most of the letters in Marc. I thought it was fate.
I looked to Grace for some backup, for a sign of hope that Marc and I were meant to be, but I didn’t get any. She was biting her lip, which meant she didn’t want to tell me what she really thought.
“How about some company?” she said instead. “I can come over after practice.”
“You have your thing,” Terri reminded her.
“What thing?” I asked.
Grace shook her head. “It’s nothing. I was just supposed to hang out with Derrick.”
I sat up straighter. “You guys have a second date?” She had sent me hundreds of texts about him over the summer, and he’d finally asked her out right before break ended.
“Third, actually.”
“Wait, what?” I practically dropped my computer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She bit her lip. “Because it’s not a big deal.”
“Uh, yeah, it is. It means you saw Derrick this weekend and didn’t say anything.” I had been such a bad friend, moping and worrying about my own problems, that I hadn’t even known Grace was seeing someone or what Terri had been up to. I needed to be better. This was huge news. Grace hung out with people here and there, but she hadn’t really dated anyone since freshman year, and this sounded like it had real potential. “You are not canceling because of me. You are going on that date, and I want details.”
“All right, all right.” She laughed, her eyes lighting up. “I hate to do this, but I have to get to practice.”
“Go,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll call you later,” she said, and waved goodbye.
“Luke and I can still come over,” Terri said, taking back over the conversation.
“You both have better things to do than babysit me,” I told her.
Terri shrugged her shoulder. “Me, maybe. Him? Probably not.”
Luke pretended to stab a dagger into his chest and shook his head at Terri. “I don’t know why I hang out with you.”
“Because you love me,” she joked.
He winked at her. “You should be so lucky.”
It made me queasy how they could joke about love and feelings. They’d gone out on dates. They’d kissed. And now they were just friends. Yeah, it had been years ago … but it made me think of Marc. He and I were never going to get to that place. I didn’t want us to—I wanted more.
“I don’t need company,” I told them.
“It will be fun,” Terri said, focusing her attention back on me.
“Not for you. I’m going to be watching rom-coms.”
“I can suffer through.”
I grabbed my bowl of mac and cheese. “I’m fine. Honest.”
Terri sucked in her cheeks and studied my face. She moved down the hall, so it was just me and her. No more Luke. “You sure?” she asked, her voice low. “We can hang out, just you and me.”
After assuring her a dozen more times that I was all right, she gave in.
“Okay, I’ll leave you with your movies, but,” she said, emphasizing the word, “you have to promise you won’t watch one where the girl gets back with her crappy ex.”
“No promises,” I said, loading up my fork with another giant heap of
macaroni. “I love second-chance romances.”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh, it will give you too many ideas. Contrary to your life motto, life isn’t a rom-com. Promise me you’ll pick something else to watch.”
I wanted to argue the merits of living life as a romantic comedy, but I didn’t have it in me. Right now, my life was anything but romantic. Instead I just agreed with her. “All right. I promise.”
We said our goodbyes, and I resumed scrolling through my movie choices. Between the streaming networks and all the movies I bought, I had quite the impressive selection. Even if I ignored all the second-chance romances, there were tons of other tropes to choose from. Friends to lovers, secret romance, falling for a royal, pretend relationships …
I gasped.
The last one caused the tiniest sliver of an idea to form.
A bad idea. A really bad idea.
An idea Terri would positively hate, but an idea that could be my answer to everything. An idea that kept growing and growing and was now going full steam throughout my head and taking over my entire being.
What if I really did try to live in a rom-com? Date someone else to make my ex jealous, and maybe, possibly, hopefully, fall for the new guy. I’d watched it happen on-screen and read it in books hundreds of times.
Or, at the very least, maybe I’d rile up Marc so much, he’d come running back. This could work. Yeah, Terri was going to kill me, but it was worth a try.
I deserved the senior year I’d dreamed about.
I was going to find someone so much better than Marc and rub his face in it. I was going to get into Columbia and live my dream New York life. I was going to get my happily-ever-after. I might even find love.
But most of all, I was going to make Marc regret dumping me.
Chapter 11
My alarm blared Tuesday morning. For once there was no snoozing, no pulling the covers over my head, no wishing it were still the weekend. I was ready to go back to school. I was on a mission—to find a new boyfriend, to get into Columbia, and to have an amazing senior year. My plan to make it all happen was going into motion today. Thoughts swirled in my head as I showered and got ready. I could do this. Who needed Marc? I tossed on a fitted black turtleneck and a pair of black pants, and I pulled my hair back into a tight bun. This was my cool, collected, don’t mess with me, I’ve got this, New Yorker look, or at least my interpretation of it based on what I had in my closet.
Finding Mr. Better-Than-You Page 6