I’d been a dope—and I even knew it back then, only back then I’d just thought I was crazy for having such a hopeless pathetic crush on Smith. I didn’t realize I was also a dope for not appreciating the awesome boy that had been standing right in front of me—wanting me. Grady. And now it was too late. Now he had beautiful, perfect Chloe.
Still, I was glad we were at least friends again. I was thrilled about that. And that we were starting to spend tons of time together again.
I was eating up getting his attention again after going without it for so long. I drank it in, basked in it—truly, truly appreciating it this time.
One day after a fun jam session, he asked me shyly, “Mandy, do you ski?”
The way he asked it was funny. Why did he sound so shy? I mean, it was just me—his close friend. So what was the big deal?
“No,” I answered regretfully, knowing that he was good at it, even better this year I guess, since he was now on the ski team. I shook my head. “No, not really. I mean, I try, but I’m not very good.”
“I could teach you,” he said. He sounded hopeful, and curiously determined. But what was he determined about? I realized I was missing something, but I had absolutely no idea what.
I tried to sound more chill than I actually was, since inside I was filled with ???
I wet my lips, “Um, well … that would be nice—” It really would be, and I felt these strange sparky tingles going through me from the way he was looking at me, and the way he was acting—all emotionally charged, and like he was holding his breath.
I paused, trying to calm my pounding heart from his stare, “But—um, me going skiing with you …” I pointed out regretfully, “Chloe probably wouldn’t like that.”
“No. She probably wouldn’t.”
I swallowed, trying to choke down my sudden, inexplicable disappointment. “Well, you don’t want to get her mad. I mean, she’s your girlfriend—”
He smiled slightly. “No she’s not.”
My heart jolted. “Huh?”
“I broke up with her—last week, after our drum lesson.” He said softly, “I broke up with her so I could go out with you.”
CHAPTER 45
Rainbows and cupids appeared from the sky when Grady finally told me he broke up with Chloe. It was spectacularly awesome being friends with him again, but this time more than friends. When he would gently touch me as he taught me the drums, electrical shocks would go through me. That was new. Never happened before the drumming, yet happened every time now, even before I knew he broke up with Chloe. The moment I saw him play the drums—whoa! The boy gave me tingles. What can I say? I have a thing for drummers.
And now I had a major thing for Grady.
When I asked him about his break up with Chloe, he had grinned self-mockingly. “I was truly afraid of her. It was only once you actually seemed romantically interested in me that I worked up enough courage to dump her. I mean it, it took that—thoughts of me with sweet you—to make me brave.”
He smiled at me sardonic and sheepishly, “She was sooo pretty, but so mean.”
His proclamation filled me with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it completely annihilated me to hear him say that (and the way he said it)—that she was ‘sooo’ pretty. But on the other hand, I was filled with this glorious overwhelming warmth that he wanted to be my boyfriend so bad that he was able to break up with beautiful (witchy) Chloe.
Grady was probably the only boy on the planet to break up with Chloe. She went on to rip out tons of guys’ hearts. Tons.
… until Smith came along. She was totally smitten with Smith. He was able to turn her into a kitty cat.
I hate to admit it, but they make a gorgeous, heart-achingly perfect-to-look-at couple. Seeing them together makes you feel like killing yourself, ‘cause they are so pretty, and you’re so … not.
However, once Grady and I got together, I never looked at Smith again. Not once.
… It had been easy enough.
Since he never looked at me.
CHAPTER 46
Present Day
Present Day
I thump my head on my desk when I hear who my presentation partner is in Civics class—Grady. Groan.
Ironically I’d never been assigned to be partners with Grady while we were together. Not once. Not ever. But now—well, this is just my luck. I want to avoid him—so of course I’m assigned to be his partner.
I quickly stop thumping my head, and grab my pencil, scribbling away, like I couldn’t care less who my partner is. Like: Did we even get partners yet? I have no clue because I’m busy writing.
Grady slides into the seat next to me. When I keep writing in my notes, completely ignoring his presence, he waves a hand in front of my face.
“Hi,” he says when I finally glance up at him. He raises his eyebrows, “I’m Grady—your new presentation partner.”
He says it total deadpan, but there is a twinkle in his affectionate eyes, and a slightly bewildered grin hovers on his adorable lips—like, Why are you acting so weird? The familiar grin stabs at my heart. Has me bleeding all over the floor.
This violent pang of sadness goes through me.
It’s so strange, I can’t really breathe right when Grady is near these days. My chest gets all tight and my heart gets all twisty, and my breath basically strangles in my throat. Yeah, it’s hard to breathe, let alone do it right.
It’s disturbing to feel so much so intensely. It’s mostly due to the bittersweet feelings being near him stirs in me these days. It gives me chills, yet warmth. Leaves me with the deep desire to leap out of my chair and get as far away from him as I can—yet at the same time, want to be closer to him. I yearn for it.
But like I said, I can’t breathe normally around him. So, for my own protection, I know I should escape—not be his partner, not be near him.
Though it’s getting a little easier these days, I guess. Maybe. But the pain is still there. It feels like it will always be there—this ache from being near him, yet no longer able to touch him. Will the pain ever go away?
I’m starting to doubt it.
The bell rings. Thank goodness.
“Aw,” he says about the disruption, as though he was enjoying this painful moment and doesn’t want it to end—me trapped next to him. “We should get started as soon as possible.”
He adds, leaning into me, “—us being partners,” he says softly, “—and talking again. Come to my house tonight and we can get started.”
Dude, apparently we’re finished.
“No thanks,” I tell him crisply. “I’ve been to your house.”
“What, you’re saying you didn’t have fun there?”
No, it was fun there. Too much. It will hurt. Bad. I shake the thought away.
“I’m saying I don’t want to go back there.”
Because I want to … too much.
“Come on,” Grady says. “I want us to still be friends. I need to still be friends.”
I glance over to where Becca is now impatiently waiting for him in the doorway. She looks beyond annoyed. “I don’t think your girlfriend wants that.”
“Mandy, come on. You broke up with me.”
My insides twist.
I quickly swallow the golf ball in my throat. “You know what? I don’t remember it happening like that.”
His lips form an ‘O.’
But I don’t wait around for his answer.
On shaky legs, I get up and stomp/stagger away from him even though I hear him softly murmur my name. It makes a thousand needles prick at my heart, especially because he sounds as though his heart is breaking.
I know it kills him that he’s hurt me—his best friend.
Only, I used to be more than that—and that kills me: Being replaced in his heart.
He keeps saying I broke up with him … but did he give me a choice? At all? He was breaking my heart. Breaking everything inside me. Because he loved another girl now too. And by his own words—neither was mor
e special to him than the other. But I was his girlfriend. So that was a slap in the face.
Even so—sadly—with all of my heart I still long to be special to him. Treasured by him like I used to be.
But since now he treasures Becca, I need to be away from him.
So I can breathe.
And try to heel my broken heart.
CHAPTER 47
Right as I slide into my seat for third period—late, because I had to splash cold water on my burning face, due to having had to endure having a conversation with my “ex” who I’m not used to thinking of as that (sob!)—anyway, as I slide into my seat, I get even better news than that I’m partners with said “ex.” ‘Cause over the intercom it’s announced, “Becca Wallace is now the newest member of our cheerleading squad. Let’s give her a cheer!”
So, you know, that’s freakin’ great.
My “ex” is now dating a cheerleader.
Awesome.
Sara texts me, “Yeah, let’s give her a cheer … and a punch in the nose!”
Nicole texts, “She’s a cheerleader? So what? She’s still a loser kleptomaniac—stealing other people’s boyfriends. Ain’t nobody gonna to cheer for that!”
It’s nice to have friends.
CHAPTER 48
At home, I do this pacing trip from drums, to drawing, to drums again, to more drawing. I have a chemistry test I should be studying for, but I’m too agitated at the moment to focus on actual schoolwork—or anything but beating my drums to death and drawing zombie cheerleaders—with their eyeballs hanging out.
Grady texts, “Come over? Please Mandy.”
I stare at his message a long time, and thump my head on the table a while, and grimace quite a bit, and work on cheerleader eye sockets. But then, though it’s against my better judgment, I hesitantly type, “Okay.”
After all, we are project partners now. We do have to get started on the project. I try to convince myself that’s the only reason I agreed. Pretend that my heart isn’t full of longing, and filled with pangs of disturbing joy that I’m going to be around him again—alone, in his room. Where we had been so happy; where he might remember that. Where he might wise up and realize I am more special to him than Becca. Way too special to lose. And really, Becca is a dull, boring toad compared to me, and his relationship with her has been dreadful compared to what we’d had together.
CHAPTER 49
As I got to Grady’s house, his mom was just pulling into the driveway, getting home from work.
She glanced at me with surprise as she got out of her car.
“Mandy! How nice it is to see you again around here.”
She said it overly friendly, yet at the same time her voice was half-sympathetic, yet half-awkward, since, you know, her son is now seeing another girl—not me. (Apparently she’s up on that now.)
Knowing that, heat swamped my cheeks, and my ears burned.
“We’re assigned to be partners for a class project,” I explained, my mouth feeling like it was full of sawdust.
She nodded dramatically, appearing as though she was going to be all sympathetic and chatty (groan!), but right then she got a call on her cell phone.
“Oh no, I need to take this,” she said, suddenly frowning and distracted. She glanced back up to me before answering the call, “—you can go on up to his room,” she said.
I swallowed, then hesitantly did.
CHAPTER 50
5 Minutes Later
5 Minutes after being in Grady’s room
I squeezed my eyes shut as Becca kissed Grady.
Seeing it, I winced and this little, tiny choking noise came out of me.
I staggered back from the unexpected pain—his lips pressing on hers. The horrific sight felt like a knife slicing into my heart. I pressed up against Grady’s closet door, trying to make it seem like I was backing against it in a casual way, like Ho-hum Grady is kissing another girl. But really, I pretty much collapsed against it. Dying.
The sight of horrible, beautiful Becca pressing her frosted pink lips against my Grady’s mouth made me want to sob. And scream, ‘No! Get away from him, you horrible, scheming witch! Grady is mine!’
But I bit my lips together to keep from screaming or sobbing, and only this tiny little whimper escaped from me. That was it. And luckily they didn’t notice, since they were too busy happily kissing.
I rubbed my palms against my eyes, exhaling slowly.
Pain.
Torture.
Agony.
Once the kiss was finally over (it seemed to go on and on for an eternity … but I guess in real life it was only a couple of seconds. If that. Maybe.) Anyway, when it was over, Becca gave me this smug smile, like “Bet you wished you didn’t come over now, huh?”
I could only grimace—’cause yeah, I was sick.
I’m sure I was all pale and tortured looking. Since, you know, I was dying and everything.
But I tried to cover quickly, because I hate her. Passionately. With her smug smiles and Grady-stealing cheerleader lips.
I breathed out, “Well, that was rather gross and inappropriate.”
I scowled at Grady. “Next time can you warn me before you invite me over that you’re going to be putting on a PDA show? ‘Cause I’ll pass.”
Grady gave me a soft look, like my whining was sad. “Sorry, Mandy. It was just a quick peck goodbye.” Then he said it again all contrite, “Sorry.”
I crossed my arms, trying to sound mad instead of hurt. But it was hard because well, I was hurt.
I gave Becca a cold stare and muttered, “Then say goodbye Pom-pom-Girl—and leave.”
Becca narrowed her eyes at me, putting her hands on his hips, like she couldn’t believe I just said that. And also, like she would make me pay for it. ‘Cause come on, this was Becca—Miss I rule Grady’s heart.
“I was leaving,” Becca snipped.
She put her arm through Grady’s and purred to him, “But maybe now I’ll stay.”
Seeing her do that—snuggle up to my Grady like he was hers (which OKAY, he is now (sob)—it made my heart shatter.
This strangled choking noise came from my throat. It was embarrassing.
I tried to make the noise seem like a coughing fit. Not a whimper of bone-jarring pain. But yeah, it was a whimper of pain. My heart was broken once again. Annihilated. I mean, I’d come over here thinking (well, hoping) Grady would see the error of his ways and want me back. Instead, I came to this—him kissing another girl.
It wasn’t exactly expected.
Or appreciated.
Witnessing Becca saying ‘goodbye’ to Grady—with her tongue.
And now just great, she was threatening not to leave.
“Fine,” I said, slamming open Grady’s bedroom door. “Then I’m out of here.”
“Mandy!” Grady called after me as I stomped down his hallway towards the front door. He sounded half-alarmed, yet half-frustrated. “Mandy!”
But I just kept marching, hearing Becca coo to him, “Just let her go. She’s being a spaz.”
Tears welled in my eyes. Grady didn’t even come after me. In a way, I was glad, since no way did I want him to see me close to tears. But in another way, my heart was broken. I mean, he didn’t even come after me. He totally chose Becca over me—again.
CHAPTER 51
Before I was even all the way out of his front yard, I got a text from Grady. And then another. And another. But I just kept marching and didn’t read them. Because my eyes were full of tears and I knew if I read his messages I would cry. No matter what they said. If they were mean and said I should act mature, and just get over the fact he loves Becca now, I’d cry. If they were sweet and apologetic, I’d still cry. Just for a different reason.
And no way was I going to cry in Grady’s yard. No way. Not where he might look out his front window and see me. I mean, no. First, I fainted, then he caught me stalking his bed—no way was I going to let him see me cry because he kissed another girl.
I got texts from Grady the entire way home. Each one I got made my heart pound, but still, I refused to read them.
When I got inside, I raced upstairs. With trembling fingers, I finally clicked on my phone’s messages. But even then, I didn’t read them. Couldn’t. Instead I squeezed my eyes shut, pleading with my phone: Please say you hate kissing Becca. Please tell me you miss me and you’re going to break up with her. I begged it over and over—a silent wish.
But I knew the wish was dumb. I mean, he was obviously gaga over Becca. I’d seen him stare at her like a love-struck puppy. And he let Becca convince him not to follow me out of his room though he knew I was upset (and I kind of had a right to be, right? I mean, he’d invited me over to his house, and what did he do? He let the skank that stole him away from me kiss him—right in front of me. Who does that?!)
Also, Grady had let Becca call me a spaz, so I didn’t really see any way I could forgive him. A lot was hanging on his messages and I was terrified they wouldn’t deliver. That now we would be in a huge fight on top of the fact an evil witch had stole him away from me, and I’d had to watch them kiss like a ridiculous little puppy.
Grrr!
The front doorbell rang. My pulse thumped.
I froze.
‘It can’t be Grady,’ I reasoned with my spazzing heart. After all, I’d just left his house. And Becca was with him. Plus, he’d just sent me a bunch of texts. So …
‘Calm down. It’s not Grady.’
But then … it was Grady. Only a second later, he was at my bedroom door that I’d accidently left open just a crack.
“Your mom let me in,” Grady said through the crack, sounding apologetic, like he didn’t mean to catch me looking all unaware—unaware he was watching me bawl my eyes out.
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