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“Um, what should we do?” I almost suggeststop, drop, and rolljust to add some levity to the situation, but Teddy’s expression seems to have decided on irritation, so I don’t.
“Ihave to go wrangle a couple hundred teenagers.Youshould probably go.”
That last sentence hits me like a physical blow.
“I’m not finished talking to you.”
“Well, I—”
The classroom door opens.
“Teddy?”
I look to my left. And there’s Tanya, looking cute and wholesome in a flowery sundress. She’s giving Teddy a casual smile, probably here to suggest they walk out together to the tennis courts—which used to be the outdoor assembly point during fire drills.
This hurts worse than him telling me to leave. Of all the outcomes I considered in this conversation, this wasn’t one of them. I took their breakup and Teddy screwing me every chance he got on tour to mean he and Tanya were really finished. Not that he’d pick back up right where they’d left off once he was back in Brookfield.
I believed in us more than I’d realized. More than I ever let him believe. I thought we were something special—that it was nothing we’d find with other people. But here Teddy is, back in his normal life. His town, his house, his job. Where he’s meant to be, with a girl who can stay in one spot and not one who hasn’t slept in the same bed for more than three nights in months.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll go.”
I stride out of the classroom without even saying hello to Tanya. It’s rude; it’s not her fault she and Teddy make more sense than he and I do. But it still stings, and I’m much less polite when I’m pissed off.
The hallway is swarming with teenagers. I’m annoyed to learn my choice of outfit blends right in. Tanya doesn’t dress like a sixteen-year-old.
My outfit might blend in, butIdon’t. Whispers ricochet off the locker-lined walls. And if there is one thing high schoolers excel at, it’s spreading gossip. Meaning the crowd I’m pushing my way through is vibrating with murmurs, most of which involve my name.
“Sutton!”
I don’t stop at the sound of Teddy’s voice, just keep pushing through the mass of bodies, repeating, “Excuse me,” over and over again.
“Holy shit, do you know who that is?” one guy says as I pass him.
“Sutton!” His voice is closer this time.
You’d think being shorter and much less broad-shouldered than Teddy would give me an advantage, but all the gawking is slowing me down. Unless I want to start shoving my way out of here, movement is slow. Teddy is making faster progress, probably because they want him to reach me. This is much more entertaining than assembling by the tennis courts.
I don’t want him to reach me, though. I don’t want to hear the excuses and the explanations.
He owes me nothing—I made sure of that. And I’d rather make a disgraceful exit than have to stand with a smile plastered on my face while he tells me that being back in Brookfield convinced him that it’s where he sees his life remaining. That Tanya makes him happy.
I realize I won’t have a choice when a palm wraps around my bicep and jerks me to a forcible stop. I spin to face him and try to pull my arm away.
Teddy won’t let go.
“I think those sold-out crowds are messing with your hearing,” he tells me.
The shifting crowd around us stills, everyone trying to hear what we’re saying over the blaring alarm and commotion. Phones are getting pulled out.
I make a face. “I couldhear youjust fine. Just like I heard you tell me to leave.”
“What else did you have to tell me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not back together with her, June.”
I inhale. “Then, why was she coming to your classroom?”
