Instantly Brian and his selfish bullshit are far from my mind, and even David takes a backseat. Because he was right—Brody is still out there.
I scan the block of school buildings behind me. It’s not especially busy, but students come and go, walking at varied paces, some with purpose, some lazily. Some even look familiar. But fortunately, none of them are Brody, so I keep up with Toni, pretending to listen to her story about rush week, stealing intermittent glances over my shoulder all the while.
When we come up to Standman quad, where we usually part ways to go to our respective classes, my hackles go up. But Brody isn’t skulking in his alley, and I appear to be developing an entirely new kind of paranoia.
Great. Add it to the fucking list.
“Want to meet me in the library at, like, six? I want to get a head start studying for the midterm,” Toni says.
And so do I. But not tonight. I want to be home just in case David does want to talk about what happened last night—this morning. At the very least I’m sure he could use some reassurances that everything is still the same between us. I certainly could.
“Monday instead? Tonight, I…I just—”
“Bethy.”
Toni and I both turn, but I’m the only one who tenses so tightly I’m practically in rigor mortis.
Brian’s brow is pulled low and his expression is guilty and contrite, but hopeful. And all I’ve got is anger.
“Bethy—”
“Beth.” My short tone startles him, and I’m ashamed by the satisfaction it gives me.
“Are you okay, Beth?” Toni asks, eyeing Brian dubiously. She should be dubious of him—a man who can go from lover to ghost in a matter of hours.
I realize it isn’t just last night I’m angry with Brian about, and I wonder if I ever really forgave him at all. “Yeah, Tone. I’m fine. This is just my ex.” I don’t know why I say the word ex so scathingly. Maybe I want to scathe him. Maybe I want him to feel a microscopic fraction of what I did for so damned long.
Brian visibly bristles at my tone, and instead of unsettling me, it gratifies me. Who am I turning into?
“You’re sure?” Toni doesn’t seem to be, but I assure her I’m fine, and air-kiss her cheek so she can get on to her class.
“What do you want, Brian?” I ask when she’s gone. People keep moving around us, but Brian seems in no rush. He stares at me with that puppy-dog look and I want to slap it right off his face.
“You’re mad.” He states the obvious.
I glare at him.
Brian’s frown deepens. “Bethy. Beth,” he corrects himself before I do it for him. He takes a step forward, but I stand my ground. “I was drunk last night.”
“So?” So was I. I didn’t treat him like complete garbage.
Brian sighs. “I’m sorry, okay?” He takes another step forward but pauses halfway when I hold out my palm to stop him.
“You’re sorry…” I breathe incredulously.
“I am, Beth—” Brian looks away for a beat, and when his gaze returns, the contrite puppy appears to have run off. His jaw clenches. “I saw you. Dancing with March. And I…” His nostrils flare as he sucks in a deep breath. “He was all over you, Bethy—Bethy!” he insists when I open my mouth to correct him this time, and I flinch. Brian doesn’t notice. “You want to pretend we’re fucking strangers? Fine. But I can’t! I can’t just stand around and watch David-fucking-March put his filthy fucking hands on you—”
“Who the hell asked you to stand anywhere?” I cut him off.
Brian’s mouth drops subtly in surprise. I don’t blame him. The Bethy he remembers wouldn’t often speak her mind. But that girl died over three years ago when she swallowed a handful of pills.
“I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask to be friends. And I definitely didn’t invite you to the club last night. What were you doing there anyway?” I demand.
Brian’s eyes narrow slightly. “I went out with some guys from the team,” he says defensively. “I wasn’t expecting to see you there, you know, since you were so determined to focus on school that you don’t have time to date and all.”
“I’m not dating! I went out dancing—”
“With March!”
