She frowns, keeping her eyes on the couple making out. “I don’t know. I think it’s romantic to see two complete strangers from different parts of the country or world find each other by chance like this.”
“It’s not random. They signed up for this shit.”
“I know, but still. You can’t fake connections.”
I give her a flat look that she refuses to acknowledge. “It’s reality TV. This is the fakest shit on the planet. They’re all high on the elements. Drinking day and night, and doing cool excursions. Anyone could fall in love under those circumstances. That’s what the producers and writers want. They’re playing right into their hands.”
“But some of them stay together. There are couples onThe Bachelorthat are happily married with families,” she argues.
“Ok, so one out of five thousand might make it. The odds of meeting your ‘soul mate’ on the street are better than that.”
“Soul mate, huh?” She grins at me.
“I’m saying, if you believe in that, which I don’t.”
“But you did once, right?”
I sigh heavily. “I guess.” I lean back, and she shifts, getting comfortable and stretching her legs, which press against my thigh. For some reason, I place them in my lap so she has more room. Her eyes flick behind her, and mine follow. Calvin is driving, but he’s too far away to hear us with the TV on. He could only see us if he turned completely around.
“Me too,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear.
My brow raises, and I meet her eyes. “Ellie in love?” I tease.This is the first I’m hearing about it. Suddenly, I need to know everything. Who was he? What happened?
“I was young and dumb,” she says. “I didn’t know any better.” There’s something in her voice that doesn’t sound like her, and my stomach churns. I start massaging her feet to distract myself from the discomfort building in me. “So your first love didn’t turn out?”Join the clubI want to add, but don’t. “You shouldn’t let that deter you. He was probably young and dumb, too.”
Boys are fucking stupid. They have no idea what they’re doing, especially teenagers. All the testosterone pumping through them, making them horndogs. I never would’ve dreamed of cheating on my girlfriend, but I still wasn’t perfect. I made mistakes. I was an idiot. Shit, I still am. But relationships are hard. That’s why I don’t prefer them anymore. Hookups are easy. Less time-consuming and no chance of fucking up. Unless, of course, you’re a bad lay. I’m not.
“He wasn’t young,” she mumbles.
My hands halt their movements. “What do you mean?”
She glances at me, a hint of something behind her green eyes that looks a little too much like shame or regret. My heart picks up again. Damn, it cannot be good for me to keep raising it like this.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She looks away. I start squeezing her foot again, a little harder, and her attention snaps back to me. I stare her down, urging her to go on, and she gives in. “He was like twenty-eight or something. I don’t know.”
Ten years is a pretty heavy age gap, I guess. Eighteen is still young for her. They would’ve been in totally different places in life.
“Where’d you meet him? Brown? Was he a professor?” I joke, but she winces. “Shit, really?”
She shakes her head. “No, he wasn’t a professor.”
I blow out a quiet breath. That would’ve been weird.
“But he was a teacher.”
“Oh.”OH. Fuck, no.“Ellie.” I tread lightly. “Was heyourteacher?” The vein in my neck throbs as I wait for her response, but I already know what it’s going to be. The look in her eyes is a dead giveaway. The pain that only lingers this long from something that’s cut you deep, jagged and painful enough to leave a lasting scar.
She gives me a pinched smile and shrugs like she’s trying to play it off, but I already saw the hurt. “Like I said, young and dumb.”
“How young?”
“I really don’t want to talk ab?—”
“How young?” I grit.
“Sixteen.”
My eyes fall shut, bile swimming in my gut. I don’t realize how hard I’m squeezing her foot until she whimpers and tries to pull away. “Shit, sorry,” I say, relaxing my grip.
