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"Tom was right. The way you're looking at me—"
"Fuck off." I shift so I'm staring right into his eyes. "Feelings are getting involved? Feelings have been involved. What the hell do you call holding me all night? Or promising I can tell you anything? You insisted on meeting my parents. You promised you cared about me. You stared into my eyes and kissed me like you loved me. What the hell do you call that?"
"I didn't mean to lead you on."
He's still so fucking calm.
"Yes, you did," I say. "You get off on me caring about you."
"Meg."
"Do you love me?"
His lips curl into a frown. "I told you when this started—I don't do relationships."
"No, you just treat me like your girlfriend and act like my boyfriend and expect me to know the fucking difference!" I stare through him the way he stares through me. "It doesn't matter. You don't respect me. You throw away my feelings. You lie right to my face. You're nothing to me."
He folds his arms.
"I'm not putting up with it anymore. Go. Away. Now."
"Is that really what you want?"
No. I want him to apologize. To mean it. I want him to convince me he loves me and respects me.
That isn't going to happen. That means he needs to leave.
My breath is choppy, but I fight it. This is the last thing I need to get out. "Yes."
"Fine." He pulls the door open and steps into the hallway.
And he's gone.
Chapter Thirty-One
I spend the weekend staring at my textbooks. I make a hundred flash cards and go through them a hundred times. I rewrite all my notes with my favorite purple pen.
I absorb nothing.
I try to sleep, but whenever I close my eyes, I see Miles. I see that look on his face, that desperation and pain that he's so sure he wants to handle alone. He lied a million times and he's still the only thing I can think about.
This is the end. Miles and I are over, forever, the end. Hell, we were never anything worth discussing. Not really.
It's better this way. He can go bullshit some other girl. I can focus all my attention on medical school. A guy would only get in the way.
Miles would only get in the way.
* * *
"Honey, you look like hell." Kara plops in the seat next to mine. "But you know I've got you covered."
She pulls a can of green tea out of her purse.
Sweet, sweet caffeine. Class is going to start in five minutes, and I need every ounce of attention I have for the lecture.
I press the can against my chest. The aluminum is so cold, and I've been hot all weekend. I don't know if it's anger, frustration, or the damn flu.
"I'm guessing your parents were difficult," she says.
