I didn’t get to tell him how much he deserved the best of everything. I couldn’t get my tongue to move.
He looked at me with such hatred on his face as he said, “Get out of my house.”
It turned out that you could love someone and still speak to them with icy venom.
I rushed out of his house and climbed into my car, willing the tears not to fall. The whole way home, my vision was blurry but manageable.
“Hey, Young Linc,” Koby said as I barrelled past him and up the stairs to my room. “Hey! You okay?”
“Uh huh,” I called back unconvincingly before pressing my door closed and sinking against it.
I released a breath and let the tears fall.
“Norah?” Koby said as he knocked on my door.
“I’m fine,” I said, sounding watery to myself.
“Are you sure?” he asked in his best big brother voice.
I took a breath and put on my best ‘fine’ voice. “Yeah, of course.”
There was silence a moment. “Okay… Well, I’m here if you need.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Thanks.”
I heard him pat the door. “Okay.” Then he was gone again.
I was past the crying stage, but I still hurt.
That was the thing about breaking up.
I might not have known much about it, but I knew it hurt no matter who you were and who was breaking up.
It hurt to see your parents hurting.
It hurt to realise your life was never going to be the same.
It hurt to realise that maybe some people are better off apart.
It hurt to see your friend hurting.
It hurt to lose a good friend just because he dumped your best friend.
It hurt to realise that maybe what hurt most of all was that you always liked him and you missed your chance. Twice.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next week was…
To say it was torture would have been a hyperbolic cliché.
It wasn’t torture, but it wasn’t fun.
I was in a bad enough mood. I didn’t really know why. Wade had wanted one thing. I’d wanted another. It was common sense to just put the whole thing to bed. I might have been a little sad it was over, but there really hadn’t been any other conclusion for us.
Things between Wade and I had gone back to normal. Wade had gone back to normal. Like nothing had happened. As evidenced when we first ran into each other in the hallway.
“My bad,” he sneered. “Forgot my blinker.”
I was too down to bother with one of my usual replies. “Whatever, Phillips.”
“You know, maybe you could try using your good manners today, Lincoln.”
I looked at him and sighed. “Sure.”
“What?” he asked as I shouldered my way past him to keep walking. “Am I suddenly not worth a comeback?”
I froze and felt like folding in on myself. I knew he meant more in that one sentence than I hoped anyone else picked up on. Quite aside from the fact I couldn’t bring myself to tell him just how much he was worth to me in front of Lisa, his behaviour wasn’t really urging me to just then. I assumed that he was hurting and lashing out, and I got it if he was, but that didn’t make me feel better about his behaviour or make me want to ease his suffering any.
And his behaviour continued, steadily making mine worse as well.
On Tuesday, Wade was fighting a losing battle with the toaster in the Common Room. As I grabbed my FUIC out of the fridge, I spared him a devilish smirk.
“Did they cover toaster usage in your shitty driving lessons?” I asked him.
He glared at me. “I assumed they only covered kitchen appliances for the women.”
My heart thudded in my chest, but that didn’t stop me. “Try plugging it in, dumbarse.”
He grabbed the end of the cord and swirled it as he gave a sarcastic little bow. “Thank fuck you were here, Lincoln. I might have starved to death.”
“Left to your own devices, I’m sure you would.”
“Why don’t you fuck off on back to your friends and leave the fire to the menfolk?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll gladly be anywhere you’re not.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
It wasn’t good. And I wasn’t gladly anywhere he wasn’t. Despite our constant griping and harsh words, I still had the urge to be as close to him as possible. Maybe it was the whole misery loving misery thing. Maybe I felt better by feeling worse. Maybe I was just desperate to hold onto any part of him I could.
Although I wasn’t sure why that would be.
“I think I’m most nervous about History now,” Lisa was saying a few days later, when things hadn’t got any better.
I’d been watching Wade go on with his life the same way he had three months earlier. He laughed with his friends. He flirted with girls wherever he could. He bounded through the school like he was living his best life. And we argued with more and more voracity.
I wanted to say I was the only one who saw the harsh glint to his eyes, the tiredness at the edge of his mask, the waver to the corner of his smile, but it could have just been wishful thinking putting them there.
“What?” I asked, forcing my concentration back to my best friend.
“Exams. Now that Drama’s out of the way, I think I’m most nervous about History. You?”
I nodded as I tried to pull enough thoughts together to come up with an answer. “Uh, Physics.” I paused while I thought about that some more. “Yeah. Physics.”
“You ace Physics.”
I shrugged. “I pass Physics.”
“What do you need to get into your course?”
“Uh, last I looked, about 80.”
Lisa waved a hand. “Pfft. You’ll get that easy.”
I looked at her like I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t actually argue.
We heard a, “Fucking… Look out,” from behind us.
Lisa and I both looked over and saw Wade muttering at a tiny Year Eight who was in his way.
“Seriously, dude,” Wade huffed as he faced off against the younger kid. “Left or right?”
“Right?” the kid whispered reverently, pointing that way.
Wade nodded. “Good.”
Wade and the kid finally got around each other. Wade spared Lisa and me a glance that was more glare as he passed.
“Hiya, Wade,” Lisa chirped.
He kicked his chin towards her, but otherwise ignored both of us as he continued on his way.
“Hm,” Lisa mused, as we rifled in our lockers.
“What?” I asked.
“That’s not like Wade.”
“What’s not like Wade?”
“He’s all…grumpy.”
I huffed a humourless laugh. “Yeah, because he’s so joyous all the time.”
Lisa kept looking in the direction Wade had gone like she’d see him by will alone. “Yeah, but he’s not normally rude…”
“He’s rude all the time.”
“You don’t count.” Lisa waved a subconscious hand at me.
“Gee, thanks,” I huffed.
“No,” Lisa said, still absently looking up the hallway. “You know what I mean. You antagonise him, so it doesn’t count if he’s rude to you.”
“The guy can’t just be in a bad mood?” I asked, wondering how much longer we’d have to talk about Wade.
“I guess…” Lisa said, not sounding convinced. “Maybe someone should check on him…?”
What was wrong with me?
I wanted to be that someone.
Except I didn’t.
Because wanting to be that someone was the ultimate betrayal of Lisa.
So, why didn’t that stop me wanting it?
Lisa was standing right beside me and I still wanted to be that person for Wade. I felt guilty about how not guilty I was about that.
&nb
sp; I suddenly realised that I’d assumed the knowledge I was betraying Lisa was enough to stop me feeling anything more for him than some kind of friends/confidants with benefits situation. I’d honestly believed that, once I’d made my decision, my love and loyalty for Lisa would override any other outcome.
It seemed maybe I was wrong.
Of course, it would take losing something to realise just how much it meant to you. It was the oldest cliché in the book, but I guessed it was a cliché for precisely that reason; it was true. Humanity was apparently so wilfully ignorant that they’d rather foolishly stick to their guns and lose the important things than suck it up and face the music.
Well, at least I fit in.
“All right. Talk to me.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’m not going to accept ‘I’m fine’ as an excuse anymore,” Lisa said to me.
I looked at her. “What?” I repeated.
She shook her head. “I’m not.” She shrugged. “You cannot tell me that this is fine. You’re listless. You’ve barely insulted anyone in days. You haven’t even bothered getting grumpy with Mrs Finch. What’s the matter?”
I was still going with a half-truth is better than no truth. “Just… Maybe that casual thing I had going on is over, and just maybe it seems it meant more to me than I thought.”
Lisa looked at me like she expected me to divulge more. She looked at me like we both knew the same secret and someone just had to voice it out loud. But there was no way she knew the real secret. She was obviously looking for something else. Probably that I did in fact own a romantic bone in my body.
“It happens.” I shrugged like that was all the talking that needed to be done about it. I theorised, if I acted like that was that, then Lisa would act like that was that as well.
I should have known better.
“Well, can you make it not be over?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Are you sure? Or are you too SOILED to give it a proper go?”
I gave her a grim smile. “Yes, but no.”
She nodded. “Well, that sucks. Who’s next?”
I blinked. “What?”
She shrugged. “Well, if it’s really over with this guy and there’s more than just your SOILED membership keeping it that way, then the only logical solution is to get back on your bike.”
“I could say the same about you,” popped out of my mouth.
“Excuse me?” she laughed. No awkwardness. She just obviously found that funny.
“Maybe you should get back on your bike.”
“Did you have someone in mind?” she asked.
“How’s Matt? Talked to him much since curtain call?”
She shrugged, but it was cheeky and coy. “I might have.”
That was promising and, as far as distractions went, the only one I was getting now. “You can’t just leave it at that,” I told her.
“Are you going to tell me anymore about what’s bothering you?” Again, I got that feeling that she knew, she was just waiting for me to say it out loud so we could talk about it.
So, here would have been a really good place to tell her everything, to admit all. My parents’ divorce. Wade. My low mood about it all. I could come clean in a relatively timely manner and hope she forgave me.
It wasn’t the losing her that stopped me this time, although it was a strong motivator. No. It was the having to relive it all, having to feel it all as I let her in on it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to make that wound raw again, not when it was so recently scabbed over.
Instead, I plastered on a smile I hoped she’d believe. “I told you. I was apparently a little more attached to this guy than I realised. Now it’s over and we’re all moving on with our lives.”
She looked me over carefully like she’d be able to spot a lie. Clearly, she couldn’t or else she would have picked me up on it. Finally, she shrugged.
“All right, then. Well, Matt and I have been chatting a little.”
“By a little, you mean…?”
“A few times a week.”
“And this is…?”
“Just friends,” Lisa assured me. “We’re just friends. I can be friends with a guy.”
“Is this a guy you’ve kissed?”
“No.” Very serious, clearly true.
“A guy you’ve thought about kissing?”
“No.” A slight laugh, clearly not totally true.
“A guy you want to kiss.”
“No!” More laughter, definitely not true.
I nodded. “Sure. Sure.”
Lisa laughed. “All right. Fine. I might, maybe, possibly, could entertain the notion of having a teensy tiny crush on him.”
“There we go.”
It was easy to throw myself into encouraging my friend. This time I wasn’t just doing it to ease a guilty conscience. This time I wasn’t just looking for a distraction. I’d seen real potential between her and Matt and, regardless of how clueless I was about my own love life, I didn’t want Lisa to miss out on something that could be amazing.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was about done.
Done with school.
Done with home.
Done with life.
Everything had fallen apart and I felt like I’d been left adrift at sea with no port to call home. Sense would have dictated that be the perfect time to open up to my best friend, to lean on her, to ask her for her help.
Logically, I knew that was what I should do.
But I understood intimately what Wade had said about wallowing in one’s grief. The comfort I found in mine was too tantalising to risk the stability by ripping open the wound to let anyone else see inside.
So, I bottled it all up in a corner of myself and told myself it was better that I hurt a little more now than how much worse it would be to let someone else in.
Which was fine. I was fine.
Until Felix followed me out of class, hounding me incessantly about the formal.
“What would it hurt to go with me?” he asked.
“My pride. My sensibilities. My dignity. Need I go on?” I sighed, rolling my eyes at Lisa, who rolled hers right back.
“Go on, then.”
“How about your face if you don’t leave me alone?”
Felix laughed. “Yeah, I’m not as wussy as Vinnie. Give it your best shot.”
I whirled around and pushed him away from me. “Dude, enough!” I snapped.
Felix’s easy smirk was wavering. “Oh, come on, Norah. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is guys like you thinking it’s hilarious to pester girls about a date when they’ve already said no four times!” I yelled.
And that was why I disliked Felix. Dude was an insecure moron who didn’t understand the concept of rejection, believing it to be something he could talk people out of. He’d done the same to me about going to the movies back in Year Nine; bug me constantly until some new shiny thing came along and stole his affections. Not that I was complaining.
Felix chuckled. “Jeez, Norah. Relax.”
“Why? Why should I relax?” I asked, not caring that most, if not all, the kids in the hallway were staring at us. “Heaven forbid a woman get hysterical! What will we do if she speaks her mind? How dare she stand up for herself!”
I felt Lisa’s hand on my arm and realised that, while my sentiment wasn’t inappropriate, my timing might have been.
“Hey,” Felix said, hand up in defence. “I get it. You’re on the rag. I’ll try again next week.”
I had no more words. I just screamed in frustration.
“She said no, Dawson.”
His voice was soft, barely carrying to the kids around us, but it commanded a power over those listening; the power of the Head Prefect. Felix’s face went from joking to hesitant apology with a touch of indignance in an instant.
Felix nodded. “Okay. Got it
.”
“Apologise,” he demanded.
“Sorry, Norah,” Felix complied.
I whirled on Wade. “Do you want to butt out?”
Wade shrugged. “I was just trying to help.”
“How does it help for some big strong male to come swooping in and throw all his privilege around?” I asked. “Let’s just perpetuate the stereotype that women don’t need to be listened to, shall we?”
“Is that what this is really about?” Wade asked me.
I glared at him.
“Okay,” I heard Lisa chuckle. “Nothing to see here, folks. Walk on.”
Folk did indeed begin to walk on.
Wade continued. “Because, last I checked, there wasn’t a law against helping people.”
Oh, the way he said that!
How dare he bring that up in front of Lisa. How dare he!
We both knew my snapping at Felix and subsequent yelling at Wade had very little to do with a sudden uptake of the crusade against misogyny and a lot to do with what had happened between us.
I looked at Wade and all the fight left me.
I watched as all the fight left him.
I was just too tired to fight anymore. Him. Me. The Man.
As though we had all the time in the world, Wade and I looked at each other. Words came half-formed to the tip of my tongue. Words I couldn’t bring myself to say. Tears stung my eyes. That hot lump in my throat made swallowing ten times harder.
And his face looked the same as I felt.
So many things unsaid hung between us that I felt like I could see them. I felt like everyone could see them. And suddenly, the isolating bubble I’d thought cocooned us disappeared and I was aware that people were staring at us.
I watched Wade’s face as he seemed to come to the same conclusion.
He cleared his throat, wiped his face of all emotion, gave me a terse nod, and disappeared into the crowd.
It wasn’t until he was gone and the crowd was starting to disperse that I felt like I could breathe properly again.
Then, Lisa went and opened her mouth.
“What was that look?” she asked.
“What?” I felt my cheeks heat.
“That look. The longing one. Between you and Wade.”
“There was no look, Lis.” My tone was far too pleading to be the truth. I just wasn’t sure if I was hoping there was no look or hoping that she’d drop it.
the Art of Breaking Up Page 23