Page 89 of Apparently, I’m Torture

“What’s wrong?”

The words bubbled out of me before I could stop them. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His face went slack, fingers suspended in mid-air as he asked, “Do what?”

I waved a hand back and forth between us.

“This. I can’t. Stacey isn’t a part of this anymore. She can’t force me to be with you, and I tried. I really, really tried. But I just don’t feel anything.”

Trevor reeled, ran his hands through his already-thinning blonde hair, and staggered back.

His voice strained as he said, “But, I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

My heart sank. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same.”

Seconds passed. We just stared at each other. He looked hopeless, lost. I felt like such an asshole.

Then his eyes narrowed; his tone icy as he said, “I should’ve figured it out. You didn’t want to meet my parents; you didn’t want to move in together.” He shook his head and hissed, “You’ve been pretending this whole fucking time.”

“I wasn’t pretending. I was trying. But you have to admit, we never would’ve gotten together if Stacey didn’t threaten to drop me from Kappa Delta. And that’s not exactly the stuff of romance novels.”

His face was screwed up and angry. He spat, “So what now?”

Helpless, I lifted a shoulder. His anger ran both hot and cold, and he was so mad at me I didn’t know what to say.

His lips bunched like he ate something sour. “I’m not leaving this school.”

My organs felt like lead. Disappointment weighed me down. I didn’t want him to stay, but I’d already hurt him enough.

“I didn’t think you would. I was hoping… maybe we could be… friends?” I asked, wincing at my tentative tone. Neither of us wanted to be friends. Trevor wanted more, and I wanted nothing.

He was incredulous. “Friends?”

I nodded and stretched out my hand. He drifted out of reach. Then, without a word, he turned and left the cafeteria.

A Week Later

South Bronx Classical

Lilly

Trevor called in sick, and for four consecutive days, Mia, Brianna and I worked his classes. And oh, did it feel good. No more looking around corners, hurrying from room to room in the hopes of avoiding my ‘boyfriend’. Mia was right. This was the right thing to do. I hoped Trevor would see that eventually.

It was a Tuesday when he came in, bleary-eyed and reeking of both alcohol and misery. If I was honest, guilt hit me hard. Our breakup was a huge relief for me. But I couldn’t look at Trevor and believe it’d been the same for him.

Mia squeezed my hand before leaving the faculty room to teach her first class of the day, and Brianna bounced out soon after, leaving Trevor and I alone.

With every muscle wound tight, I made my way to his desk and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me, weary and sad, and I swallowed before saying, “Did you know pizza is the most photographed food on social media?”

I smiled weakly at him, and he rolled his eyes, scoffing in disgust.

“Just leave me alone, Lilly.”

Well. At least he wasn’t calling me Lillybug anymore.

“Trevor,” I tried. “Do you think we could figure this out?”

Hope flared tentatively in his wide, blue eyes, and my mouth dropped, hands waving in front of me like a lunatic. “I mean, could we figure out a way to work together?”