She’s not really my girlfriend.
The fact that it hurts shows just how silly I am. I would never date Tristan.
Thankfully, I held up for the rest of the evening. I don’t think he saw that I was upset. He’s been quiet on the drive home, probably because his parents were so exhausting for him. I thought my parents were achievement focused. I’m pretty sure Tristan’s achievements are the only thing his parents give a shit about.
“I’m sorry my parents are annoying,” Tristan says as he pulls into my dorm parking lot.
I expected him to ask me to come to his place, but it’s probably better that he didn’t. I need time to mentally kickmyself for getting upset over being publicly denied the girlfriend title.
Of course I’m not his girlfriend. Why the hell am I upset?
“They were fine to me,” I say. “I felt bad for you having to report to them like you’re on parole.”
He laughs, and the mask he’s been wearing for the last hour crumbles and falls away. “They literally only care about my grades and football. They don’t have any interest in my thoughts and ideas.” He shoots me a half smile. “Not that I have many.”
I scowl. “What a ridiculous thing to say. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”
The change over him is immediate. His eyes grow wide, and his lips part. He stares at me as if I’ve just whispered ancient secrets of the universe rather than tell him something that ought to be obvious.
“Do you really mean that?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Of course I do. I love talking to you.”
He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’ve been wanting you to say that for years.”
My skin grows hot. I never know what to make of him when he gets in these intense moods. “It’s only the truth.”
He leans forward, grabs my face, and presses a hard kiss against my mouth. “Amy,” he whispers. “Tell me you’ll give me a chance.”
I set my hands on his shoulders and push him back. “I don’t know if I’m ready to make that decision.”
He squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll never hurt you. Not intentionally. I’d rather die.”
Dizziness descends over me, making my head heavy. How could anyone be this deliberately cruel?
It doesn’t make sense. If this is really a prank—if he’s only buttering me up to humiliate me—his methods could put a Marvel villain to shame.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I interpreted all the signs like the dreamer I am. I took the little information I got from Nick and invented a story in my head. A romance plot more ridiculous than any of myPride and Prejudiceretellings.
The wicked rake spends weeks seducing the lonely wallflower with the sole purpose of making her cry.
Not for money. Not for any tangible gain.
Just for fun.
I avert my gaze. “I hope that’s true.”
He kisses my forehead. “It is true. You’re precious to me.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and tears hover behind my eyes. I think I believe him. No matter what he’s done in the past. No matter what his plans were when the game began, I think his feelings now are sincere. But even if they aren’t, I’m going to act in good faith. It’s time to stop storing my heart in a glass case, as if it will shatter at the slightest touch.
I can’t seek my revenge and enjoy it without real evidence.
If it means making myself vulnerable to humiliation on the day of the closing ceremony, so be it. My heart will shatter if this really is all a prank, and I’ll probably cry in front of thousands of people.
It will be okay. I’m not going to hide away anymore.
Pain is the cost of truly living.
