I see them and jerk to a stop, like I hit an invisible wall.
An invisible wall through which I can see Jane and Brendan. Kissing.
She’s pressed right up into him, her hands in his hair.Their lips moving together.
That tiny thread of hope snaps apart, and that snap reverberates through my whole body.
I can’t breathe, and yet somehow I make a sound like a whimper, like a dog who’s just been kicked, maybe because I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut and I hurt and hurt and hurt.
I turn away, gasping.The room, the crowd, the lights—all of it is swimming around me and blurring together.
He’s kissing Jane.
He wants her; of course he does.
Stupid Su-Lin. I knew this. I knew he could never really want me. I was a friend, a silly, stupid friend, and he tried, just to make me happy, but I always knew I wasn’t enough for him.
God, he even told me he was abreast man! So why would he want me? Why, when he could haveher?
And now he does. He has this girl who’s beautiful and sexy and is a better version of Candace, because she’s all those things and she’s actually nice. She’ll treat him well and I should be happy for him. I should be happy because he’s my best friend and Iwanthim to be with someone he can fall in love with and feel intense passion for, someone good and not a cheating bitch.
I should be happy, but I have never in my life been so far from happy.
I push back through the crowd, trembling, my head dizzy with the hurt, with the confusion of it all—the sight of Jane’s fingers in his hair clashes like a stumbling drunk against the memory of my fingers in those pink curls when he went down on me.
Best night of his life, my ass.
I shouldn’t be mad. People who are casually dating kiss other people all the time, right? We didn’t have rules against kissing anyone else; it didn’t occur to me, in all my stupid naivety, that we’d need them. I never thought he would do something like that without telling me first. I knew my chances with him were slim and getting worse every day, but I thought he’d tell me first that this thing with us wasn’t working, that he wanted to kiss Jane and be with her instead, and it would hurt—god, it would hurt—but not worse than this.
Or maybe it would always hurt like this. Maybe itwillalways hurt like this.
The tears are spilling out now, hot trails down my cheeks, and whether or not I should be, I’m mad. I feel used and tossed aside and so, so ashamed.The anger and the hurt wrap all around each other, and there’s none of peppy, smiley Su-Lin left.
Through blurry tears, I see Warren there, at the edge of a group. He’s got a drink in his hand, but he’s not dancing with anyone in particular. And I know even as I’m heading toward him that this is a terrible idea, but I don’t care. I’m hurt and I’m desperate to feel, just for a moment, that someone wantsme.
I barely think to scrub away the tears before I grab his arm. “Warren,” I say, and there’s nothing natural about my voice at all.
He looks at me startled, and his eyes widen. “Su-Lin. Oh my god, are you okay?”
Apparently wiping away the tears didn’t help. I can feel more bubbling up anyway.
I’m not okay. I’m in love with a guy who will never be in love with me and I’m not okay.
“Dance with me,” I say—no, Iplead, pulling him away from the group.
“Yeah, okay, but—” he starts, but I press myself up against him, and he cuts off, swallowing hard.
I move against him to the music, and he’s got one hand on me and the other still holding his drink and he looks so confused and it’s all so awkward, and I should run now, because “sexy seductress” is way outside my skill set (unless we’re talking about my Samantha-basedSocks and the Citycharacter). But I can’t, because I need to feel this, need to feel wanted, and part of me stupidly thinks that maybe it would somehow hurt Brendan the way he hurt me.
Which is ridiculous. Brendan doesn’t want me, so why would he care?
I wrap my arms around his neck, hoping Warren can’t feel how much my hands are shaking. “Kiss me,” I say.
His eyes widen even further, but he doesn’t lean in. “Su-Lin, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“You like me, don’t you?” I say, and the way his gaze cuts away confirms it. “So kiss me.”
I hate that there’s a pleading note in this, too. Jane would never plead; she’d never have to.
