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“Tess.” I hear Dylan’s voice before I see him, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing up the moment I register it’s him.
Of course, he would choose today—the mother of bad days—to come add the big ole cherry on top of my mounting Sundae. Friday’s are usually my favorite day of the week, but Friday has not been my friend today. Quite the opposite actually.
It started this morning with a group of girls who were clearly talking about me in Math class. They made a point to make sure I could hear what they were saying about how Sebastian was just with me to fuck me, and how stupid I was to think the show he was putting on was actually real. One even went as far to say that he had called her the previous night, and they had a good laugh at my expense.
I tried to brush it under the rug—girls being girls—but I’d be lying if I said the seed of doubt hadn’t been planted and continued to sprout throughout the remainder of the day.
Sarah Jordan cornered me in the locker room after fifth-period gym and asked me if I had any idea how stupid I looked walking around on Sebastian’s arm like what we had going on was actually real. And then she had the audacity to laugh right in my face like I was the punch line of an extremely funny joke.
Now granted, Sarah and her group of teenage bullies aren’t in the majority, but it still feels like the entire school is against me suddenly.
I take a deep breath and calmly close my locker before finally turning toward Dylan, not surprised to find him leaning against the locker next to mine, arms crossed like he always used to do when he was waiting for me to get my things so he could walk with me to class.
The vision causes an odd sensation to run through me. A sense of déjà vu, if you will, and it takes me a second to snap back to present day.
“What do you want, Dylan?” I ask, swinging my bag over my shoulder.
“I was hoping we could talk for a minute,” he says, voice soft.
“About?” I don’t buy into his nice act, tapping my foot against the floor like I couldn’t be more impatient.
“I wanted to apologize for the other day.” His words calm my annoyance a bit, but there’s still this nagging feeling—like an involuntary tick, like I know something is coming.
“O-k-a-y,” I draw out, giving him a chance to continue.
“It was wrong of me to come at you about Sebastian the way I did. You didn’t do anything wrong, and this isn’t your fault.”
“I’m sorry, what’s not my fault?” I cock my head to the side, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
“Sebastian gets off on landing girls like you. I can’t fault you for falling for his act. You wouldn’t be the first. I just hope you know you don’t have to sleep with someone like Sebastian to get even with me. You’ve made your point.”
“Wait, I’m confused.” I hold a hand up between us.
“I know. My actions have been all over the place these last few months, but I get it now. I made a huge mistake the day I let you go,” he quickly continues.
“Wait, what?” My mind can’t seem to catch up to what he’s actually getting to.
“I want you back, Tess. I want us back,” he says, reaching out to trail his fingers lightly down my forearm. The contact causes my whole body to tense. “I fucked up and I’m really sorry, but I’m ready to move on—with you.”
“With me? Dylan, do you even hear yourself?” I try to control the anger that flares in my voice. “You cheated on me, remember?”
“I know, and I just apologized for it.”
“You think an apology is just going to fix it? You humiliated me, Dylan. Not only did you cheat on me, you made sure everyone in school knewwhyyou were doing it.”
“I made a mistake.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“You made a mistake,” I repeat his words, disbelief evident in my tone.
“Yeah, I did. I’m entitled to make a mistake, Tess. Not everyone is as perfect as you are,” he grinds out.
“I'm far from perfect. The difference between you and me is that I actually care who my actions hurt, and I would never intentionally hurt or embarrass someone the way you did me. It’s called common courtesy. Perhaps you should try it sometime.” I turn, completely over this conversation.
“Where are you going?” Dylan grabs my arm and spins me back toward him. “I’m not done.”
“Well, I am.” I jerk my arm out of his grasp.
“I’m trying to fucking apologize here, Tess.” His voice echoes around us and I know, like the other day, we’ve gathered a small audience of students who haven’t yet left for the day.
