My old teacher barked out a laugh. “I would feel sorry for her, but then she walks around town like she’s the queen bee.”
“Well, she’s doing a hell of a lot better than me,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “Everything in my life keeps falling apart. Would do you think? Am I just a washed-up small-town girl with dreams too big?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Fletcher said. “Every life has its ups and downs. Nothing ever goes right all the time.”
“Why do assholes like Dixie live great lives when decent people struggle? It’s like the bad guys are always winning.” I waved my own words off like she should ignore me, but Mrs. Fletcher took my hand and squeezed it gently.
“For one thing, losers always try to tear down people who try to do big things. It makes them feel better about their own crappy lives. Two, if you think Dixie is happy, you’re out of your mind. She spreads misery everywhere she goes because it’s overflowing from her like a backed-up sewer pipe.”
“Damn, Mrs. Fletcher.”
The sweet older woman shrugged. “I just call it like I see it. Just remember that chasing our dreams is the whole reason we’re alive. Without it, we’re just existing, not living. So keep your chin up and don’t let the Dixies of the world get you down.”
I gave her another hug and said my goodbyes. Mrs. Fletcher’s pep talk hadn’t banished all the pain in my chest, but she had talked me down off the ledge at least, and for that, I would be forever grateful to her.
No matter what my tomorrow looked like, at least I knew there were some good people in the world. I just kept running into the bad ones.
CHAPTER 35
LUKE
The morning after getting drunk with Nic, I woke up with a headache and a guilty feeling I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t because of something I had done. It was what Ihadn’tdone.
The conversation we had overheard between Dixie and her friend kept rattling around in my brain like an annoying song. My ex had been torpedoing Clara’s life without her knowing, and it sure sounded like she was about to do it again.
Nic had insisted I not get involved. That I would just make things worse. Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. Dixie had painted a target on Clara’s back because of me. Dixie had told her friend Clara had stolen me from her, which was obviously not the case.
Dixie was the kind of narcissist that could never admit she was at fault for anything. It would require her to admit she wasn’t perfect, and Dixie had never been capable of that kind of self-reflection and growth. So she blamed Clara.
Our last fight had started with me confronting Dixie about what she’d done to Clara, stealing her role in the Christmas play so she could sing the big song at the end. I told her it was a shitty thing to do and I didn’t want to be with a girl who would do that to someone and not feel guilty at all. Dixie never even faked any kind of remorse, and it sickened me.
I broke up with her then and there. Our split had been inevitable and it had been building long before the Christmas Spectacular. But Dixie wouldn’t believe it.
She said she saw Clara sit on my lap during the play, and Dixie knew exactly what had happened. She assumed that was when I chose Clara over her. I denied it but she was adamant. She was holding that irrational grudge for a crime Clara never committed.
While I moped around my parents’ house, growling at anyone who tried getting close to me, I kept trying to figure out what I needed to do. My instinct told me to go find Dixie and tell her to cut the shit. We weren’t in high school and she couldn’t keep acting like we were. Grow the fuck up and let people live their lives in peace.
Not only was it all ancient history, but she and I were never going to get married and live happily ever after. If we hadn’t broken up that Christmas, it would have happened at some point before I left for college. I had never felt anything close to love for Dixie.
But if I went to talk to Dixie, it would probably accomplish the opposite of what I wanted. If I told my ex to calm down about Clara, she would explode like a nuclear warhead. Probably take the whole damn town down with her.
At the very least, she would see it as confirmation that Clara was to blame for the rift that grew between us. Then she would find more ways to hassle Clara.
What I could do was warn Clara that Dixie was out for blood.
I tried texting her and calling, but I was pretty sure she had blocked my number. Fair enough. I cleaned up and headed over to the high school, knowing they were all there prepping for the official performance later that night. Clara would definitely be there.
Nic had told me how much it meant to her, to have something to work on to distract her from all the shit I had put her through. She had even more problems coming her way from Dixie, and that was because of me, too. I pressed the gas harder, needing to get there as fast as I safely could. If I got stopped for speeding, I could pay whatever bullshit ticket I got.
I ran into the school auditorium and slowed down, not wanting to draw every eye in the place. My fame already got me more attention than I wanted right then. I appreciated anyone who was a fan, but the only person I wanted to connect with was Clara. Her bright red hair was nowhere to be seen.
I went backstage and lurked around, again not wanting to draw attention. The first familiar face I saw was an unwelcomed one. Dixie fucking Garner. She had to be here to rain on Clara’s parade, which meant it was even more important for me to find her before it was too late.
I steered clear of my ex, which was easy enough. She never paid attention to anyone but herself. She was onstage, all spotlights on her, singing “Santa Baby,” which was easily the worst Christmas song. It was even less appealing when Dixie was singing it.
That woman was the opposite of sexy. I wasn’t sure what to call that. Maybe boner poison. Regardless, I had to suppress the urge to boo loudly. Maybe throw some rotten tomatoes at her.
I had more important things to do first. I could heckle her later, if there was time.
