Page 47 of Playing with the Heartbreaker

“That I’d develop amnesia and forget what happened? That I’d give you a second chance?” My face burns with rage.

“No.” He blows out a heavy breath. “I just thought maybe we’d…moved past it. That maybe we could be friends.”

“You cheated on me, Graham. You kissed whatever her name is at Spring Formal. In front of everyone. When we were there as a very exclusive couple. And now you want to be friends? What is wrong with you?” The words slip out before my brain can filter them. I’ve imagined saying this to him so many times, and now that they’re out, I feel like a deflating balloon.

Don’t think, just do.

Graham blinks at me. “I’m sorry. What I did was messed up.”

“Yes. It was. Extremely.”

He flashes The Graham Look, the one that charms parents, teachers, and dumb girls like me. But it doesn’t work on me anymore. “Does that one mistake really take away from all the good times we had together? I’m not a villain.”

“You certainly don’t get to stand here and play the victim.” I poke my index finger into his chest and use my mocking tone when I say, “Oh, Chloe’s such a jerk. I apologized, and she won’t forgive me. Poor Graham can’t stand someone to be upset with him.”

“I don’t think you’re a jerk.” He shakes his head and speaks slowly. “I just hate this tension between us. We used to be so close.”

I stare at him. “Yeah. And you blew that right up the first chance you got, didn’t you?” My body aches, suddenly tired.

“No. Not the first chance.” He says it quietly, but it still cuts me.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He sighs heavily. “There were lots of times girls threw themselves at me while we were together, but I never acted on it.”

“Until Spring Formal.”

He’s silent.

The anger seeps out of my body as I finally unload on him. I didn’t realize how much this baggage weighed until now, when I’m finally setting it down. “Unfortunately, you don’t get Good Boy points for remaining faithful. That came with the territory when we decided, together and very explicitly, to be exclusive. But humiliating me in front of the whole school? Not a quality I want in a boyfriend. Or a friend.”

He rumples his blond hair and exhales through his nose. “Finally.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have been waiting for you to yell at me since that night. The anticipation almost killed me.”

“Good.” I fold my arms again. Why are arms so awkward? What am I supposed to do with them? I don’t usually yell at people. My limbs don’t know how to act. “I mean, not that I’d literally want it to kill you.”

“Gee, thanks.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I deserve it.”

“Did you even know her name, that girl? Did you call her afterward, take her on a real date? Make promises you knew you wouldn’t keep?”

“No. I didn’t want to be with her—Cynthia, that was her name.” He shakes his head and stares at his scuffed work boots. “I just…couldn’t handle it.” His eyes slowly meet mine.

“What?”

“Any of it.” His voice cracks during this last part, as if it pains him to say it out loud. Graham doesn’t often admit fault. At least the version of him I knew before didn’t.

His parents had been fighting a lot. The football team was struggling. Still not a good reason to do what he did. Plenty of people are having a hard time, and they don’t hurt people they allegedly love.

“We were supposed to help each other. And instead, you pushed me away. Like, so far away we ended up strangers.” I take a deep breath.

That part hurt even worse than seeing him kiss the girl. Worse than everyone knowing. Instead of pulling me closer during his hurt, he shut me out.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. Do you want to yell at me some more?” He’s got that wounded, remorseful look now, like a puppy who got caught peeing on the carpet.

But unlike a potty-training pooch, Graham knew better and chose to hurt me anyway.