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I suck my cheeks in. “You wouldn’t speak to me!”
“Why would I?” she snaps. “You set me up!”
I repeatedly shake my head. “I never set you up. That’s bullshit.”
She snorts. “Oh, come on. We’re hooking up, and then,boom, your asshole posse of friends shows up to take humiliating pictures of me. I used to think you were this amazing guy. I can’t even explain how excited I was when you invited me to the dance. It was my first dance and turned out to be utter hell—because of you, Kyle. I was stupid enough to believe you liked me.”
Whoa. What?
I glance at her and refuse to continue our conversation until her eyes meet mine. Hers are sad. Understandably, this conversation hurts her, but I’m glad we’re finally talking this out. There’s a thickness in my throat when I respond. Even though I couldn’t stop them from finding us, she’s right that I could’ve attempted to stop their teasing. Chloe hurt me, and I let my stupid male ego stand in the way of realizing I could’ve stood up for her.
“Chloe,” I gently say, “I would’ve never asked you to the dance if I didn’t like you.”
She scoffs as an attempt to hide the hurt. “You invited me as a joke, as a prank.”
I wince.She thinks it was a prank?
“Chloe, I swear to you, me inviting you to the dance was not a prank. Should I have taken you to the field? No. I wanted to kiss you, and it sounded better, maybe even romantic in my teenage eyes, than in some supply closet or a bedroom at an after-party where my friends were taking their dates. I never brought you there to put on a show for the school. They also took pictures of me with my pants down.”
“Which made the girls want you more,” she cuts in.
Shame fills me. It’s true.
“Why would I take you as a prank? I could’ve had anyone go with me.”
She throws her hands up. “Oh, wow, everyone. Let’s welcome Kyle’s ego to the conversation.”
“I didn’t say it to brag but to make a point. I sincerely liked you. You intrigued me. You were smart and fucking gorgeous, and your personality was genuine. You never said a distasteful word about anyone, and you worked hard for everything you had.” I blow out a stressed breath. “Did it piss me off when you wouldn’t even let me explain myself? Yes. Did it piss me off when you slapped me in front of my friends? Yes. So, I decided,Fuck it. If she wants nothing to do with me, then it is what it is.”
“You let them make my life a living hell,” she grinds out.
I situate myself, so I’m sitting in front of her when I notice tears slipping down her cheeks.Shit.I don’t want to make her cry, especially in my bed.
She attempts to look away and hide her swollen face and tears, but I don’t allow it. Her eyes dart toward the bathroom door and then the hallway, searching for an escape plan so that I don’t see her without her armor on.
“Fuck,” I hiss, cupping her face with my hands. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it better. You want me to put an ad out in the paper? Wear a tee with an apology letter on it?”
She sniffles but is no longer trying to pull away. I still haven’t earned eye contact yet though.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over with.”
I grimace and soften my tone. “If it still hurts you, then it matters. I’m sorry, Chloe. I was a stupid little prick who didn’t think about where my actions would lead. I’m sorry.”
She inhales a few calming breaths before releasing a nervous laugh. “Thank you. Even though we can’t go back in time, I’m glad we talked about it. It was long overdue, and I should’ve come to you about it. You also should’ve grown some balls and made an announcement or even put out a stupid ad, you prick.”
“If it counts for anything, I broke up with Becky Binds after she wrotesluton your locker. Oh, and I punched Daniel Moore for asking me if I’d put in a good word with you for him to get into your panties.”
“Wow, that makes sense now. While I appreciate the attempt and your intentions might have been pure, you breaking up with her made her hate me more.”
“Shit, that sure backfired on me, didn’t it?”
She nods.
“I can still put out an ad now, you know?” I stretch forward and grab my phone from the nightstand. “Let me call Melanie and see who’s in charge of advertising inTheBlue Beech Register.I’ll ask them to draft up something.” I hold my phone up. “Do you think we can have it in this week’s paper?”
She snatches my phone from me. “Oh God, no! I was kidding!” She points it at me. “Swear to God, if there’sanythingwith my name in the paper tomorrow, I’m killing you. I can see Melanie being sneaky and allowing you to do it.”
“So, you’re done hating me now?” I attempt the best look of innocence I can manage.
