“Screw you,” I said.
And then threw my ice cream soup onto his linen shirt.
Dalton cursed, trying to skitter back out of the blast zone, but I moved too fast. The Styrofoam cup and plastic spoon both clattered to the ground, and he held his arms out, as if unable to believe what I’d just done.
I didn’t linger at the sight. I practically fled back to the parking lot Jamie’s car was in. My racing pulse left me lightheaded, the adrenaline rushing through my veins shaking me to my core.
Don’t turn around, I told myself, chanting the mantra with all the desperation in the world.Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
A second later, Jamie came up alongside me, once again grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight. “I’m proud of you,” he said when we’d gotten a good distance away. “Did you take inspiration from Beck dumping his drink on Nellie?”
“Maybe.” Jamie’s words made me feel worse.I’m proud of you. He only said that because he didn’t realize how close I’d been. I gripped Jamie’s palm, groundingmyself to the moment, to the sidewalk, to keep me from feeling like I was free-falling. “You were chummy.Oh, Dalton, oh, I’m so glad you’re home, oh?—”
“Shut up,” Jamie told me lightly. “You know I hate him as much as you do. More, even. If you hadn’t dumped your ice cream all over his stupid Gilfman shirt, I would’ve.”
Don’t turn around.
I didn’t believe Jamie for a second. He was a peacemaker. In fact, I was surprised he wasn’t scolding me for my insane action, but then again, he was right about that part. He did hate Dalton Giovanni more than me.
Because, despite everything, I didn’t think I hated him at all.
“I’m telling you,” I said, and lost my internal battle. Unable to fight the pull anymore, I looked back at the ice cream parlor where we’d left Dalton behind. He’d gotten napkins from one of the dispensers and was dabbing—uselessly—at his shirt. My chest squeezed painfully, body willing me to go back. “Bad luck.”
Jamie gave my hand a pulse, as if knowing where my thoughts were and encouraging me on anyway. “Yeah, fine,” he agreed. “Bad luck.”
CHAPTER 3
When Dalton Giovanni broke my heart, I’d been wearing waffle pajama pants.
It was ridiculous, the things you remembered when your world fell apart. I could barely remember anything else—like what shirt I’d been wearing or what day of the week it’d been or what the kids had been doing—but I could clearly remember the waffle pajamas, and when I’d looked down at myself, I’d thought,I can never eat waffles again.
And, of course, that was all Ivy wanted for dinner.
“I think this waffle maker is dead, kid,” I told her, wiggling the plug in the outlet. The red light still didn’t flick on. “I think you’re going to have to deal with pancakes.”
Ivy sat swinging her legs on the kitchen counter, watching me risk electrocution. “I don’t want pancakes,” she said in the eerily amicable tone eight-year-olds had before they raised hell. “I want waffles.”
“We allwantthings.” I fought to keep my voice even, yanking the plug from the outlet and trying a different one on the other side of the kitchen. Still nothing. “Sometimes the universe says no.”
Like how I’d wanted to never see my ex-boyfriend again. The universe said more thanno. It literally saidscrew you.
If I was going to go all Jamie Brighton, and be fancy and use metaphors, I’d say Dalton was like a dormant volcano that’d decided to erupt back into my life. Ever since this afternoon, I couldn’t shake off the feeling like ash and soot that Dalton had practically rubbed all over my skin.I thought I recognized that fiery hair.
I could almost hear Jamie in my head.That was a simile. Not a metaphor.
Ugh.
“It’s broken,” I declared, wrenching the cord from the outlet one final time before dumping it in the trash can. “Let’s just do pancakes.”
Ivy stared at me as if I’d just thrown her hopes and dreams in the trash instead of the waffle maker, golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears that’d come from nowhere. “I haven’t had waffles in forever,” she said, and her voice even wobbled. “Can’t we?—”
“Daaaaaaaisyyyy!” Theo came bursting into the kitchen with his red toy truck in hand. It rattled when he shook it. “I can’t get my guy out.”
“Your guy?”
“My action figure. I put him through the window sohe could drive, but he’s stuck.” Theo shook the car again. “Hear him?”
I squinted through the truck’s window that was no bigger than the size of a quarter. “How did you even get him in there?”
