A humorless laugh falls from my mouth. I can’t help it. It’s not funny, but is he serious right now? Jesus freaking Christ, he’s a boy in men’s clothing.
“What did you want me to do? Beg for you to stay with me?” I whisper hiss. “I wasalwaysinvested. You were the one who initiated that discussion both times. Like clockwork. For two years, summer came, and you bailed. Left me in your rearview and expected me to be here when you came back. Well, the car changed course, Webber. It backed up. Made a U-turn. Whatever. Point is, I’m done waiting.”
His stare eats into me, and I can tell he’s thinking, wondering how he can backtrack and save our relationship from its inevitable death. He reaches out. “I miss you, Violet. Yes, I fucked up, and I can see that now, especially after seeing some other dude fighting for you that night at Lucy’s. That should have been me protecting you. Please. Let me fix this.”
Two small steps and he closes the space between us, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before resting his palm on myneck. “I’ve only been out with other girls because I missyou.” His eyes flick back and forth between mine. “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to do things with other people. I want to do them with you. I want to havefunwith you.”
“And what happens when we graduate and want different things?”
“It won’t matter. We’ll work it out.”
“And what about when you get tired of having,” I lift my fingers in air quotes, “‘fun’ with me?”
There’s a pause. A few short seconds where his throat bobs around a swallow.
“We’ll figure that out too,” he promises.
It doesn’t feel right. He wants me to trust that he’ll be able to work things out with me when he’s had ample opportunity to do it in the past and never did.
Instead of allowing me to be a part of his home life, he broke up with me, then shared all the stupid fun he was having on social media with other people while he was gone.
He hasn’t learned. He hasn’t grown up. He hasn’t figured out what the hell it is that he wants.
I shake my head. “We made a lot of memories over the years, but I think those days are over.”
“They don’t have to be. Things can change.”
Things. Not him.
If my mind wasn’t already made up, that would seal the deal.
“I don’t want to wait around for things to change,” I tell him honestly. I gave him the last two years. How much more time does he expect out of me?
“You can do whatever you want without worrying about what I’ll think or if I’ll be here at the end of it. I won’t be. Not anymore.”
I’m a person, for crying out loud. Not an object to be tossed away and lied to and revisited when one feels like it. My feelingsmatter, and I deserve to be treated with more respect than what he’s given me.
“Violet—”
I raise my hand.
He blinks, his shoulders slumping as he finally understands what I’m saying. His tongue darts out and glides along his bottom lip. “Is this going to make things weird?”
“Not unless we allow it to.”
Closing the space between us, I wrap my arms around his midsection, knowing this’ll be the last time I’ll feel his body so close.
I’m more than fine with it, but I don’t want him to feel worse than he already does.
“We’re better off as friends,” I whisper to him, pulling away.
“I’m sorry,” he says regretfully. “I’m sorry I fucked this up.”
“I know, Web.”
But it still doesn’t make it okay.
After two hoursof staring at my textbooks, my eyes are ready to cross. I quietly close my book and pack up. The others are still going at it, but I need to give myself a break. My body is craving the stretches of my yoga poses after sitting for so long, and I could use something to eat.
