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I rub at my chest, hating how down I am. Knowing that nothing will fix my mood except for Daisy.
“Me either.” JJ chuckles, holding up his hand for a high five.
I don’t give it to him, a scowl forming on my face. “What about Mya?”
He drops his hand, shrugging. “What about her?”
“You two aren’t together?” I’m so fucking confused.
“I haven’t made anything official, and she hasn’t asked. We’re just hanging out and fucking around. Why can’t it just be that?”
Because if you were into her, you wouldn’t want it to be just hanging out and fucking around. You’d want to be with her all the time. Your thoughts would be consumed with her. You’d see things, or something would happen to you, and you’d immediately want to tell her. Because she’s it for you. You can’t see or think or taste anything else.
Just her.
Her.
“I can’t take anything seriously,” JJ continues, clearly on a roll. “Just like you.”
His words haunt my thoughts when I leave him on the bench a couple of minutes later, right before the bell rings. When I’m walking down the hallway and pausing in the open doorway of Mr. Winston’s classroom. I stand there and watch Daisy sitting in her usual spot, pretending to read the open book sitting on her desk in front of her.
I know the truth. I see the way her eyes flicker up and immediately glance down when she catches me watching her. I don’t care if she sees me staring.
I want her to see.
“Are you joining us today, Mr. Lancaster? Or do you prefer to remain in the doorway?” Mr. Winston asks good-naturedly.
I enter the classroom without saying a word, heading straight for Daisy. She keeps her head bent and I swear her shoulders visibly shake, which makes me feel like shit.
Of course, I feel bad. I’m not a monster.
I keep walking past her, not sitting in the desk behind hers. I choose not to torture myself today. Sitting behind her, smelling her, having to resist reaching out and touching her silky hair…
My self-restraint isn’t that strong.
Instead, I sit in the back of the class like I used to. Kicking out my legs and nudging the chair in front of me, crossing my arms in front of my chest. The look of pure disappointment on Winston’s face doesn’t faze me. I’m sure he’s bummed I’m not sitting at the front like before. The happy, pussy-whipped chump I was not even twenty-four hours ago.
This is the new me. The old me.
The still fucked-up over Daisy me.
FORTY-SIX
DAISY
He’s so angry,the emotion practically radiates off of him.
Though what did I expect? For him to be happy and excited that I dumped him? I’m sure no one dumps Arch Lancaster. He’s the dumper, never the dumpee.
When he stood in the doorway of our English class watching me, I could feel his stare, hot and penetrating. I could barely look up, not brave enough to face him. But when I finally did, I saw the flash of emotion in his gaze. I know what it was. I recognized it because I feel the same way.
Pain.
Sadness.
Immediately replaced by false indifference.
After Mr. Winston called him out, he walked by me casually, like I didn’t matter, when we were everything to each other only yesterday.
