Would he really do this?
Could he have been jealous?
We’ve always been friends, and sure, I’ve had a crush on him before, but he’s never thought or seen me like that.
I think about how he’s been this week. Encouraging me not to reach out to Dylan. Helping me avoid everyone…
I think Izzy is right. Cooper started the rumor.
Cooper
Getting dropped off. Is it too late for lunch?
I grab my lunch and thrust it into the overflowing trash can. Storming to the front doors, I push them open. He’s walking up the sidewalk.
“Excited to see me?”
When he’s in front of me, I shove him. Two hands on his chest.
I might be strong, have an athletic figure, but Cooper is stronger. More solid. He barely budges.
“You did this.” I shove him again, and he lets me. “Tell me. Admit that you did it.”
“Sutton—”
“Don’t Sutton me. Not now, not ever again. Were you that jealous of Dylan that you had to break us up? Could you not share me? Or stand to see me happy with someone that wasn’t you?”
He pulls his head back, tips up his chin, but still doesn’t say anything.
I push at him again, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Admit it,” I demand. “Did you start the rumor?”
Cooper swallows harshly, gaze tipping to mine. “Yes.”
“I knew it.” Tears stream down my face, and I can feel the fissure going through my heart. “I told you how I felt in confidence. How could you do that to me?”
“I’m sorry?—”
I could handle the rumor. I could handle the breakup, but knowing that Cooper betrayed me…it’s taking me down.
“You’re sorry?” I take a step away from him. My face becoming a maze of moisture. “Screw you.” I take a deep inhale, and the words come out of my mouth quicker than my opponents blade sliced through my skin that night. “I hate you.”
FORTY-SEVEN
SUTTON
I release a low,annoyed groan. I can’t focus when all I want to do is refresh my phone.
“Everything good over there?” Cooper asks from across his room.
We’ve both been busy, but we manage to do our best to squeeze in time together where we can—studying, even if in silence, is better than going a day without him.
He’s sitting at his desk, broad shoulders hunched over his math homework. Forearm flexing when he grabs his calculator. Straightening, Cooper turns in my direction, a pencil tucked into his backwards hat. Yesterday, he shaved his scruff, leaving only the mustache he’s been growing out for the playoffs. I kind of hate how much I like it, but pigs will fly before I ever admit that to him. I also sort of hate how hot it is watching him do math.
I’m sprawled out on his bed. On my stomach with all of my textbooks and notebooks spread out around me in a half circle. Dotted with Post-its and highlighters, my pen is half chewed on and hanging out of my mouth.
I roll over on my back, paper crunches under me.
