Dylan tookEllie and me home, and I didn’t show up the next morning for skating.
I skipped class on Friday.
Andavoided all of Jack’s calls and texts, asking if we could talk.
I’ve never been more grateful for it to be a set of away games, and we had our couch back for the first time in two weeks. Ellie and Sara tried to get me to go out with them, but I didn’t feel like going anywhere. Instead, they came over Saturday night, and we all stayed in watching some of my favorite movies from the eighties and nineties.
Thankfully, no one pushed me to talk about Jack, but the time away from him has done nothing to help me clear my head.
Coop crashed on the couch last night, and I hid in my room like a coward until he left this morning. I’m embarrassed Bradley made a scene at their house, but I’m more afraid of how they’ll look at me once they know the truth.
I debated all morning if I was going to go to class, knowing I’d see Jack there, but I still feel like curling up in a ball after walking into the lecture hall. A quick glance to where he’s usually waiting for me with a cup of coffee in hand causes me to deflatea little when I realize Jack’s sitting where he spent the first two months of the semester, surrounded by his groupies. It’s almost like he never left them in the first place.
We make eye contact, but he looks away first, down at his paper.
What did you think was going to happen after ignoring him all weekend, Al? He’d get down on his knees in front of everyone and beg you to talk to him?
I force myself to head up the stairs toward Keri playing on her phone.
“Hey, girl. Um, is everything okay?” she asks, her eyes wide, and I shrug, glancing down at my outfit.
My sweatpants and sweatshirt under my winter coat aren’t as subtle as I thought.
“All good,” I answer, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
“Did something happen between you and Jack? He’s sitting over there?—”
I plop into the seat next to Keri, cutting her off. “We’re fine.”
“Okay then,” she says, getting the hint, and I try to sink low into my seat.
The lecture feels longer than usual, but it’s probably because I’m putting more effort into trying not to look at Jack than I am on the actual class. I’m so mentally drained by the time we’re released that I’m ready to crawl under the covers and never come out.
I only feel more defeated watching Jack walk out the doors without any hesitation, and I think I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally pushed Jack away, and I only have myself to blame.
I’ve only replayed Thursday night in my head a hundred times, wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t followed Jack and Dylan out back, or if Jack had listened instead of pushing me to give him an answer I knew he didn’t want to hear.I never wanted to tell Jack the specifics of how things ended with Bradley, much less ask him afterward if he was happy to know what had happened.
Maybe I shouldn’t have kept insisting it didn’t matter, but I’m also aware that the more attention Bradley’s given, the more he’s going to act out. He’s never slipped like that in public before. My best guess is he was drinking, and it caused his temper to flare.
The little bruises his fingertips left on my hip are fading proof. Just another picture to add to the collection.
I just want them gone.
I pull my winter coat tighter around myself, shoving my hands in my pockets. It’s weird being by myself since I’ve grown used to Jack’s constant presence, but I did tell him to leave me alone. I didn’t think he’d really listen because he never had before, yet this time he did.
Maybe it’s for the best.
The lines are starting to become blurred with us. I’ve been acting like I’m his girlfriend, and he’s been acting like my boyfriend, but that’s not what we are.
I’ve had a lot of time to think the past couple of days, and a part of me can’t help wondering what everything would be like if I’d never gotten to know him.
When I make it back to the apartment, I’m struck with déjà vu by the tall figure pacing in front of the door. My first reaction is to pull the pepper spray from my pocket, until I focus enough on his face to realize it’s just Dylan.
His gaze lands on my hand, and I shove it back in my pocket, trading it for my keys. “I think Ellie’s still at class if you’re looking for her,” I say as he steps aside.
“Good to know, but I’m actually here to talk to you if you have a second.”
“You could’ve given me a heads-up text you’d be waiting outside my door,” I say, unlocking the door.
