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It was hard to act like a bitch to someone when they were dripping with pleasantness.
A chill coursed through Brielle’s body and she settled for dropping the tray on the counter a little too loudly. “Thanks,” she mumbled, turning around and staring at Daniel’s faded Hershey’s Chocolate T-shirt. “And it’s ‘Brielle’ or ‘Bri,’ not ‘Elle.’”
“You’ll always be ‘Elle’ to me.” Daniel did this annoying thing where he clutched both hands together over his heart and his voice took on an exaggeratedly dramatic tone, like it was all a big joke. Everything was a big joke with him. “Elle, mybelle, my sweet little spicy pepper.”
Brielle groaned and pushed past him, still not giving him the decency of looking at his face. Ever since the genius had figured out her father—the father who hadn’t been a part of her life since she was eight—was Puerto Rican, he hadn’t let go of the gross, insensitive jokes. How Brielle could have been stupid enough to date him not once—buttwice—over the course of these past several years, she would never know. That was a total of four or five months, give or take, she’d never be able to get back. The only year she’d been entirely free of him was freshman year, and that was just because he was a year younger than her and hadn’t started school yet.
“Hey,” said Daniel, trailing after Brielle as she made her way to the cafeteria doors. “You didn’t seem to mind the name when we were dating.”
Brielle spun around, looking up at Daniel despite herself. He wasn’t even that good-looking, notreally, not when you couldn’tnotassociate his skeevy smile with all the skeevy things he’d done. She would never forgive herself for being so stupid. “Which name? ‘Elle’ or ‘spicy pepper’?”
Daniel grinned, invisible slime practically oozing from the corners of his mouth. “Either one? There were a few lovely evenings in my dorm room betwixt the sheets that I even christened you my ‘hot mama.’”
“Grow up.” Brielle turned around so Daniel wouldn’t mistake the flush on her cheeks for embarrassment because she found him charming. It was rage, pure and simple, but he’d be too simple-minded to figure that out.
Daniel followed her down the stairs. “I’m going to graduation tomorrow!”
“That’s nice,” clipped Brielle.
“Don’t you want to know why?” At the bottom of the stairs, Daniel grabbed her arm and tugged her back toward him. She slammed against a passing student and mumbled her apologies.
“No,” said Brielle, ripping her arm free of his grip. “But I figured if you didn’t have a reason, you’d be gone by now. Most underclassmen don’t stick around for graduation weekend. Or did you miss the fact that classes ended because you never attend them anyway?”
“Ouch.” Daniel gripped his heart mockingly again. “Spicy pepper strikes again.”
“Shut up,” said Brielle. She poked a finger at his chest. “No, seriously, justshut up. I don’t care why you’re still here or that you’re going to tomorrow’s ceremony. I’m just glad that you’re not going to be in my life at all after tomorrow.” Brielle hated the words as soon as they tumbled from her mouth. Daniel had this habit of getting under her skin, of causing her to explode and making it seem like he was constantly on her mind when hewasn’t. Not at all. He just burrowed into her mind when he wouldn’t get out of her way and kept pushing and pushing her until…
“My fiancée is graduating.” Daniel’s gaze roved over her face. He was probably looking for some sort of reaction.
He didn’t get one. “Good for her.”
“Aren’t you wondering how I got a fiancée since we just broke up three months ago?”
“Nope.” “Broke up” was generous. The second time was more like a fling. An ill-advised, stupid, stupid fling.
“Seriously?” Daniel scoffed, loudly enough to catch several passersby’s attention. “You know, you’re one coldhearted bitch.”
Brielle laughed. “You’re the bigoted asshole, but I’m the coldhearted bitch?”
“Bigoted?” Daniel shook his head. “If I were bigoted, would I have even dated you?”
Brielle imagined herself wringing his neck and then took a deep breath. “Fine.” Brielle waved a hand in the air and turned around. “Whatever.”
“Case in point!” said Daniel tauntingly.
But thanks to the energy from the anger coursing through her veins, Brielle summoned her super speed and managed to ditch him before he was compelled to follow and torment her any further.
Too bad she couldn’t stop thinking about the asshole the entire rest of the day.
Chapter Two
Daniel waslike a case of food poisoning whenever he wormed his way into her mind. He, too, shall pass, after a half a day’s torment—anger more at herself than at him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. But he wasn’t worth it. No matter how much he drove her crazy.
Brielle took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the soft faux leather beneath her fingertips. It was better to remember the great time she’d had the day before at graduation. The pictures she’d taken with Lilac, Gavin, and Pembroke. The hugs her mom and little sister had shared with her. The way even her casual college acquaintances had screamed and hollered when the announcer had called her name and she’d walked across the stage to grab the diploma she now held in her hands. No Daniel around. No fiancée. He’d had at least that much sense—to leave her alone on that day. (Assuming it wasn’t just because he’d had so much to do withhis fiancée. Good luck to her.) It had been the perfect day.
She opened her eyes and sighed. She’d cleared a little space for the diploma on the top of her bookshelf, next to a Funko Pop of Loki (still in box) and a dreamcatcher she’d made in eighth grade at summer camp (one of her last free summers before she’d been doomed to scrub floors for the rest of those sunny days). She stepped back and tried to get the whole picture of her childhood bedroom, but it was cluttered—boxes taken from her dorm room left only the smallest path from her bed to the door, stuffed animals gathered dust atop her shelves, and her closet was full of clothes she hadn’t touched since the last time she’d received a diploma. She’d have to make a trip to Goodwill one of these days to free up space in her bedroom closet for the clothes she’d had at the dorm.
May as well swap the clothes to keep with the clothes to go and then unload the boxes in the garage for the next time I’m near the thrift store.Brielle kneeled on her bedroom floor and took a scissors to the tape on the nearest box of clothes and slid her closet door open, grabbing the first thing within reach.Oh. My Scrubbing Cherubs uniform.Black pants, a navy blue half-apron, and the pièce de résistance: a bright blue, long-sleeved T-shirt with her mom’s business logo on the front over the breast and about five hundred times the size on the back. Brielle’s shoulders sagged just looking at it. She held the shirt up to her front and winced, her guess likely proven true. She’d gained a little weight this past year—just a tad, just enough to give her some more defined curves in her opinion—and this uniform was unlikely to still fit.
