The crazy thing was, life went on.
I wasn’t sure it would, or that I could. I left the school that day, walked home—I’d walked to school that morning, since Leo hadn’t texted about picking me up—and I locked myself in my room. I cried until my eyes were too swollen to see out of. When my mother knocked on my door to tell me dinner was ready, I told her I didn’t feel well and didn’t want to eat. That was understandable, given that I’d claimed food poisoning the day before. When she pushed the issue, worried, I claimed killer cramps, which I knew would buy me as much alone time as I needed.
I slept badly that night, when I did sleep. Since the next day was Saturday, I didn’t have to go to school. I had another two days to hide and figure out what my life was going to look like now.
Once the shock wore off and the tears had stopped, I came to a few decisions. I wasn’t going to tell my mom and dad what had really happened. I couldn’t. I loved Lisa and Mark, and I didn’t want my parents to feel awkward around their friends, particularly when Lisa needed all her friends so much right now. I’d handle it casually. We’d decided to take a break. We needed space. That was all. If they guessed the truth, well, there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I didn’t think Leo would say much to his own parents.
I wasn’t sure I could sell it, but I was damn sure going to try. I couldn’t stand the idea of everyone feeling sorry for me, for poor Quinn who got dumped by Leo. I didn’t want to see my parents to think less of him, either. I wasn’t sure why that mattered to me, but it did.
I finally went downstairs at lunchtime on Saturday. My parents were already at the table, eating subs, and they looked up at me in surprise.
“You okay, honey?” My mom pushed out a chair with her foot. “Feeling better?”
“Mostly.” I sat down. “Look, I’m going to tell you both something, and I don’t want either of you to freak out or make it a big deal, okay? I’m fine with it, and you should be, too.”
They exchanged alarmed glances, and I imagined what my words must’ve sounded like, especially when I’d been sick the day before. They were going to think the worst. I hurried to go on.
“Leo and I decided to take a break. We’re not ... together anymore. I’m fine, so is he, everyone can still be friends. But we’re not dating. Not anymore.”
My mother let out a long breath. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Mom.” I held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want sympathy. I don’t need to eat chocolate ice cream and listen to Alanis Morissette. I’m fine. Now let’s just move on, all right?”
There was a beat of silence, and then she nodded. “All right. We understand.”
“Good.” I stood up. “I’m going over to see Nate. I’ll be back for dinner.”
If Nate had been able to break into a happy dance without falling over, I was sure he would have when I told him that Leo and I had broken up.
He tried to keep the look of sympathy and sadness on his face, but he’d never been very good at hiding his emotions. Finally, I threw up my hands.
“Nate, I know you’re glad Leo and I broke up. That’s fine. You have your reasons. But I can’t deal with those right now, okay? I need some time. I need you to pretend for a little while that you understand why I’m sad. Can you do that?”
“Of course.” He touched my hand. “What can I do?”
I thought about it for a minute. “You can watchBuffywith me. Season two, after Angel turns. And don’t make fun of it. And if I cry, you just hand me tissues and don’t make comments.”
That’s how we spent the rest of Saturday. I let Buffy be my substitute, and I cried for her pain and loss, because it was easier to do that than to cry about my own any more.
When we finished the final episode of season two, I wiped my eyes and stretched. “Now there was a girl who knew how to kick ass and get over heartache, huh?”
“By sending her boyfriend to hell?”
“Whatever does the trick.” I stood up. “Okay, I need to get home. I told my parents I’d be there for dinner.”
Nate stood with me. “Want me to walk you home?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’ll see you on Monday. Should I pick you up for school?”
“Uh, sure. But Quinn ...” He took a deep breath. “I know my timing sucks. But I feel like I need to tell you this, or I might not get another chance. I might not get up the nerve again.”
I groaned. “Nate, please don’t.”
“I have to. Quinn, I love you. I’ve wanted to be more than friends for ... well, since junior high. I’ve been waiting for you to notice. For it to be the right time. But I think we could be good together. I’d never treat you like—”
“Stop.” I growled the word through gritted teeth. “Just stop, Nate. I can’t do this. Not now. You’re my friend, and I need you to be that. Nothing else. Please. Can we please just do that?”
I thought he might push me, but after a moment, he nodded. “All right, for now. But you’ll keep it in mind? You’ll remember, in case things change? Once you’re over Le—everything, you might feel differently.”
