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“Focus,” Tatum hissed. “I’m really worried about her.”
I frowned. I hated that I was worrying them, but I had nothing to say.
“Look,” Tatum pointed to me, “did you see that? She moved her face.”
Jude rolled his eyes. “She’s not fucking dead, Tate, of course she can move her face.”
“Don’t you ever call me Tate,” she seethed, loud enough that several people in the library shushed her.
Jude raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t know I couldn’t.”
“Only my friends,” she emphasized, “can call me Tate.”
“Oh, so we’re not friends?” He grinned, propping his head in his hand and pushing the beanie he wore up his forehead a bit.
“We’re not anything,” she countered, glaring at him.
“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled under his breath.
Watching those two argue was like watching a really competitive tennis match play out. “Will you guys shut up?” I snapped.
“Finally!” Jude tossed his hands dramatically in the air. “She speaks!”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not mute,” I muttered.
“What’s going on with you?” Tatum asked, her lips turning down in a frown. “You haven’t been yourself for like two months now. I mean, it’s not like you’re normally a peppy person, but you’re not normally this…depressing either.”
“I’ve had a lot going on,” I muttered, looking down at the book I should have been reading.
“Rowan,” Tatum continued, “we’re your friends.” I wanted to laugh at how she reluctantly said, we’re. She didn’t like that Jude was my friend too and was hanging around all the time. “You can talk to us.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I sighed. “Honestly.”
“Did something happen with Trent?” She questioned, refusing to let up.
I flinched. Even hearing his name was painful. I hadn’t heard from him since the day I left his apartment a month ago. I told him I loved him, and he did nothing. Not that I was expecting him to run after me, kiss me passionately, and take me back. I knew that was silly, but selfishly I had expected something. A call, a text, something. But I got a whole lot of nothing.
He didn’t care about me.
Once he found out about Tristan, that shattered anything we had or could’ve been. I’d known it would, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.
“It did!” Tatum clapped her hands together.
“Why are you clapping?” Jude nudged her. “Obviously something bad happened, or she wouldn’t be moping like this.”
“Oh.” Tatum’s shoulders slumped. “Riiiiight.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, packing up my books. “This has been…fun, but I’m going home.”
“No, don’t leave,” Tate begged.
“It’s late. I need to get home anyway,” I muttered, heaving my heavy backpack onto one shoulder and then the other.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Tatum said sadly.
I didn’t reply. I needed to get out of there. I didn’t want to hear or talk about Trent. I wanted to file all my memories of him in a box and only peek at it when I needed to be reminded of my love for him. I wasn’t ready for that yet. For now, it was easier to pretend he didn’t exist.
I got in my car, letting out a shaky breath.
