by Emily Lowry
Nina
It was a gloomy Wednesday morning. The sky was overcast and rain was drizzling over the Beachbreak High campus. A breeze came off the ocean, just cold enough to make you wish you’d worn a thicker jacket, and maybe a hat. Everyone was avoiding the cafeteria – no one wanted to sit in the rain.
The school was decorated for Christmas – courtesy of me and Tyler – but I felt none of my usual Christmas cheer. Looking at the Christmas lights, the holly, the wreaths – they were all just a reminder of a better time. A happier time, when I wasn’t about to discuss my breakup with the boy I’d fallen for.
And I’d definitely fallen for Tyler. It had taken me a long time to come to terms with it, but now, there was no denying that he meant everything to me. But for him, our fake relationship was just a quick fix, a stepping stone to better things. It was silly of me to read anything more into it.
Tyler was at his locker, hurriedly stuffing binders into his bag while trying to avoid the rain. He glanced at me, wiped some drizzle from his forehead, and smiled. “Nina. Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, my voice emotionless.
“Something wrong?”
“We need to talk.”
Tyler winced. “Those are four words you don’t want to hear.”
“And they’re four words I don’t want to say,” I said. I meant it, too. The last thing I wanted to do was have this conversation with Tyler. But you couldn’t pretend to be in a relationship with someone when you actually liked them and you knew that they liked someone else. That was how people got hurt.
I waited for him to close his locker. “We need to schedule our breakup. There’s no reason to draw this thing out. And I’ve found the perfect venue.”
“Great,” Ty said, completely unenthusiastic.
We hurried through the rain towards the science wing. He held open the door and ushered me into the sterile hallway.
“Where do we break up?” Tyler asked. He kept his voice quiet as we walked by other students.
“It seemed fitting that we should do it at the next Candy Cane event. Parker is going to be there.”
“How do you know?”
I pulled open Beachbreak’s Candy Cane event page on my phone. The next event was a tour of various houses in town that had been decorated for Christmas. I showed the page to Tyler. “Number seven.”
“Parker’s house,” he muttered. He looked at me uncertainly.
“What is it?”
“You don’t have to do this.”
That wasn’t true. We definitely had to do this. “Ty, we need to break up.”
“I know, but…” He shifted uncomfortably, and a bead of rain trickled from his wet hair. “You don’t have to do it in front of Parker. I don’t want to put you through that.”
Even though I felt completely miserable, I smiled. We were planning our breakup, but Tyler was still trying to protect me. I took his hand. “It’s okay. I can take it. And unfortunately, we need to do this in front of Parker.”
“Why?”
“Because she said that she would destroy your next relationship. She needs to know that she’s responsible for our breakup. If we do it in front of her, and I drop her name, that gives her the validation she needs. Then, she’ll stop going after you.”
Tyler didn’t look convinced. “I won’t do it.”
My heart leaped. He didn’t want to break up?
“I won’t let her humiliate you.”
My heart fell. He didn’t want to be with me, he just didn’t want me to get hurt. Because we were friends, and you never wanted to see your friends get hurt. I forced a smile. “Then I’ve got good news – I’m not the one who’ll get humiliated.”
Ty raised his eyebrows.
“Parker has to think that she’s the one who made us break up. So, she needs to see me dump you.”
Tyler nodded slowly and sighed. “It makes sense.”
“Even better – it’ll look like the nerdy band geek is dumping the hot football player.”
Tyler took my hand. “You know that you’re not just a nerdy band geek, right?”
“I am to Parker,” I said. “I am to the rest of school.”
“But not to me.”
Ugh. Why was Tyler making this so much harder than it needed to be? I squeezed his hand one more – one last – time. “I have to go to class, but we’ll chat later. And I’ll see you at the Christmas Lights Tour?”
Before I could leave, Tyler pulled me in for a hug. He rubbed my back and whispered, “thank you for doing this. You’re the best fake girlfriend anyone could ask for.”
“I try,” I said, fighting back tears. As discreetly as I could, I rubbed my eyes against his t-shirt, trying to wipe the tears before they could spill down my face. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
40
Tyler
Saturday came, and only one thing was true:
I was not ready to break up with Nina.
In the early evening, I sat on the edge of my bed going through my clothes. It was supposed to be a night full of Christmas cheer, and I was supposed to find the clothes to match, but my heart wasn’t in it. How could you act cheerful when you were due to get dumped by the girl you liked? I decided on a plain black sweater and a pair of jeans. Also black, to match how I was feeling. I laughed at my morbid taste, then left.
Nina had checked her Google calendar multiple times to make sure her family members wouldn’t be attending this event. According to her, we had a half hour grace period on either side. The Christmas Tour took place on a small bus that was just big enough for eight, so we didn’t have to worry about any of her family members squeezing into our tour group and ruining the plan.
Nina was waiting at the bus stop. Her normally loud enthusiasm had been reduced to almost nothing, and her smile was forced. All I wanted to do was hug her, tell her everything would be okay. But I was reading too much into things. That’s how this entire relationship had gone – I’d read too much into, well, everything. She was just doing this to help me out – and to get herself out of a worse situation. We had to break up.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Me neither.” I didn’t know what to say and neither did she. For the first time in forever, Nina and I were quiet. And it wasn’t the quiet of two people who didn’t need to talk because they knew exactly what each other was thinking; it was the quiet of distant acquaintances, of strangers. Because, really, what could you say to the person who was going to break your heart in half an hour?
The rest of our group arrived and our tour guide hopped in the driver’s seat and started carting us around Beachbreak. The houses were beautiful – incredible displays of Christmas lights synced with the radio station, handcrafted wooden cutouts, and even fake snow.
But it did nothing to cheer either of us up.
After six houses of silence, we arrived at Parker’s house. Nina and I were sitting at the back of the bus, so we were the last people to depart. Just before we got off, she squeezed my shoulder.
“I had a wonderful time,” she said. Then she slipped past me.
As expected, both Parker and her mother were standing on the front porch. Parker’s mom was making a big display of explaining her design choices, detailing why you should only use a certain kind of Christmas light. Parker smiled and nodded, but kept glancing at me and Nina.
Nina nudged me in the ribs. “It’s time.”
“I know,” I said, choking on the words. “How do we start?”
“Pretend we’re arguing.” Nina covered her mouth with her glove as she spoke, keeping her voice low so no one else could hear. “Pretend you’re saying something mean.”
“Okay. Blah blah something mean,” I whispered. My heart wasn’t in it.
“You have to mean it or this won’t work,” Nina said. “Look at me when you talk. And glare. Hurry – she’s watching.”
Glare? At Nina?
I tried everything I could think of to make myself mad. I th
ought of all the times she’d annoyed me when we were growing up, but that didn’t work. I tried biting the inside of my cheek so at least I’d look like I was in pain, but that didn’t work either. I swallowed my emotions and tried to glare convincingly.
“I can’t believe you. Bringing that up here,” I said.
Her eyes went cold as she glared back at me. “Where else should I bring it up?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Parker lean over the porch railing, trying to listen.
Nina must’ve seen it too. She took a deep breath, stared into my eyes, and shouted. “Parker was right about you.”
41
Nina
After I shouted, you could’ve heard a feather land. Our tour guide, who had rosy cheeks and was wearing a Santa hat, stopped talking mid-question. The rest of our group was quiet, too, most of them staring at the house and pretending that they weren’t listening to us. Pretending that they weren’t watching a relationship die.
Everyone looked miserable or uncomfortable.
Except for Parker, who was leaning so far over the railing, I was sure she was about to fall.
“She was right about you,” I spat. “The entire time. I thought you were one of the good guys. But you aren’t.”
“Nina,” Tyler said, his voice pleading.
“You just aren’t.” I couldn’t say anything else. I was already choking back sobs and tears were trickling down my cheeks. I hoped that Ty couldn’t see them in the darkness. I hoped that he couldn’t see how much this relationship actually meant to me.
Instinctively, he took a step forward, opening his arms to give me a hug and comfort me.
It was all I wanted in the world.
But I couldn’t let it happen.
I took a step back and shoved him away. Hard.
“You don’t get it,” I shouted. “Maybe you’ve taken too many hits on the head? It’s over. We’re done. I don’t want to talk to you again. Ever. We can’t keep doing this.”
At least the last part was true – we couldn’t keep doing this. It already felt like I was ripping my soul out of my body. How much worse would it have felt if this was an actual relationship?
42
Tyler
I stood still as a statue as I watched Nina walk away. My heart felt like it was crumbling, falling into a thousand pieces that would never be put back together. How could a fake break up hurt so much? Even my real break ups didn’t hurt this much. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.
Everyone in our tour group had stopped pretending that they were doing anything but listening. They stared at me like I was a wild animal and they were waiting for my next move.
“Excuse me,” I said and stormed off. I was nowhere near my neighborhood – home was probably a good thirty or forty-five minute walk away – but that didn’t matter. I needed solitude. I needed to think and be alone.
Footsteps followed.
“That. Was. Embarrassing.” Parker jogged beside me. She looked happy as a kid with a fresh ice cream cone. She tried to loop her arm in mine, but I pulled away.
“What do you want, Parker?”
“To make sure you understand what just happened.” Her eyes were made up with blue eyeshadow, making them look frostier than ever.
“Just got dumped,” I said. “Seems pretty clear.”
Parker nodded. “It was clear. To everyone. I wish I’d recorded it. But more importantly, I hope you’ve learned your lesson. I warned you, Ty, I did. I told you that your poor behavior has consequences. And, well, now you know. Now you’re suffering.”
I knew that Parker was behind the breakup, but for our plan to work, she couldn’t know that I knew. So, I needed to play into her twisted fantasy. I shook my head. “You did this?”
“Just like I said I would.”
There were so many names I wanted to call her. “So. This going to be a new thing? Every time I meet a girl, you’re going to swoop in and break us up?”
“Sounds exhausting,” Parker said, rolling her eyes. “Do you really think that I have the time to wreck all of your relationships? No, this was a one-time thing to teach you a lesson. And you learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
The break up was bad.
Having to submit to Parker was worse.
“Yeah,” I said. “I learned.”
“Good,” Parker said cheerfully. “Then we won’t have any problems. Enjoy your night. Oh, and don’t even think about telling Nina. She’d never believe you – she knows what type of guy you are now.”
With that, Parker took off.
I kicked a piece of gravel. Everyone seemed to know what type of guy I was.
Everyone but me.
I always thought that I was a good guy, but if I was so good, why did I make the deal with Nina in the first place? Why did I let her go through with it?
Why didn’t I tell her how I felt?
43
Nina
The conductor flicked his wrist, and the jaunty notes of “Let it Snow!” played through the auditorium. He indicated left, and the horns joined in. Then, on his cue, I pinched my lips and blew into my trumpet, my fingers deftly moving over the valves.
The choir sang the first line.
Everything was coming together beautifully.
And then I played a bum note.
The conductor rolled his eyes and held up his hands. The music halted, and the rest of the musicians looked at me.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
The conductor shook his head slightly. He counted us down, flicked his wrist, and we were off again. This time, we made it to the second verse before I slipped up.
The conductor glared at me.
The Christmas Concert rehearsal continued in this fashion for the next hour. I kept making uncharacteristic mistakes, the conductor kept glaring, and there were more than a few annoyed whispers. My face grew redder, and I had to fight back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
I was a train wreck.
Why?
Because how could I think about music when I was swarmed with thoughts of Tyler? Tyler Walsh, the boy who’d stolen my heart. Only, instead of confessing my feelings, I’d broken up with him. Publicly. In front of his ex girlfriend. And I’d said things. Mean things.
I wasn’t a mean person. But what I’d said to him, even if it was just an act, was mean. And it was wrong. Was I any better than Parker?
By the time rehearsal was over, I was suffocating under the weight of my mistakes — both with my music, and with Tyler. I blew out the spit valve and packed away my trumpet. When I looked up, the conductor was standing next to me.
“You were off today, Nina,” he said. “Is everything okay?”
No.
“Yes.”
“Then why were you so…”
Horrible?
“I don’t know. Just a bad day.” The excuse sounded as flimsy as I felt.
The conductor shook his head. “We need you to be better. I need you to be better. Or we’re going to embarrass ourselves in front of the audience. We can’t have that, can we?”
“No,” I said, casting my eyes downward.
My mom was waiting outside in the parking lot, waving cheerily. She had the radio cranked up, playing Christmas carols, and she wore yet another Christmas sweater — this one featured a cacophony of white cats in red scarves, mittens, and little Santa hats with cotton baubles for pom-poms.
I was surprised that she hadn’t gone the extra mile and wrapped her entire station wagon in flashing Christmas lights.
I threw my trumpet case in the backseat, then jumped in the car.
“Good rehearsal?” Mom asked. She’d had another manicure – her nails were now icy blue with snowflake patterns on them. She must’ve got them done just for the Christmas Eve party. Her and my aunt were always comparing their nails, like it was some low-key competition.
“It’s coming together,” I said. I was an expert liar now, apparently.
�
�Dad and I are so excited for the concert. Is Tyler coming?”
I went with a purposefully noncommittal shrug in response. “Not sure.”
“You’re not sure?” Mom shifted into drive and we pulled out of the parking lot. “He’s your boyfriend, of course he’s coming. You go to his football games.”
“I play in band at his football games,” I corrected, as if that somehow made a difference.
I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the night Tyler had barreled into me, dented my trumpet. He’d been so sweet, so kind about the entire thing.
The memory stung.
My mom pursed her lips, still aboard the Tyler’s-coming-to-the-concert train. “Does he want to sit with us? We can save him a seat?”
“Mom, I said that I’m not sure he’s coming,” I snapped.
Her eyes widened a fraction. “Neen, did something happen between you two?”
“We’re fine, Mom,” I said, mentally willing the tears to stay back. I stared out the window. “He just has other commitments. His grandma made a surprise visit for Christmas, so it’s going to be hard for him to get away from the house.”
Another lie, but I needed to lay the groundwork.
Did Mom buy it?
She reached across the center console, her hand finding mine. “Don’t worry. Arguments happen, every couple has them. You fight, then you make up. That’s part of being in love.”
Was that what this was? Love? I put my thumb near my mouth, biting down on the cuticle. Anything to stop me from crying. I just needed our fake relationship to last a little longer… that was the whole point of this, right? To not kiss Edward Stewart? Just the thought made me feel sick. And not because of the hairy nose mole, but because the only boy I wanted to kiss – really wanted to kiss – was the one boy I couldn’t. Not anymore. I’d had my chance, and I’d lost it.
“It’ll be okay,” Mom said. “You two seem so happy together. And look at you – so calm and mature, having fun every weekend. You really bring out the best in each other. I’m sure you’ll get over this speed bump.”