“I’m gonna convince her that you don’t even like me like that and that it didn’t mean anything.”
I laugh, mostly in disbelief. “Sure, after you told her otherwise.”
He looks taken aback by the fact that I know that. I raise an eyebrow at him, waiting to see what lie he’ll tell next.
“She’ll listen to me,” he says matter-of-factly.
“You can’t just say something and then convince someone you didn’t say it, or that it didn’t happen.”
This is what Jamie does. He talks about everything that happened like it meant nothing. Rationalizes things, carves out new memories for you.
I like you a lot, Chi. For real, he’d said that night.
The past ripples between us, pulling me back in—the night of his party flashing by in broken fragments.
I remember arriving, meeting Jamie, feeling on top of the world. I remember Jamie handing me a drink, wrapping his arms around me, asking me to meet him in his bedroom. I remember thinkingHe likes meas he pulled away.
Then time winds forward. I remember stumbling, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close, and me thinkingHe likes me, us kissing,He likes me, my eyes still wet, heart beating fast for no reason.
My head stings and the memory pauses abruptly.
He’s acting like he didn’t tell me he liked me that night, and then every other night we slept together since. He told me before he left for camp too.
How will he rationalize that?
Maybe he’ll say I misinterpreted what he meant. That he didn’t mean he likedme. He meant he liked my body, my flesh, my bones—which he probably thought he could have, whether he saw us as platonic or not.
Silly me for misconstruing that.
Now everyone keeps looking at me like I have this giant redAembossed on my school sweatshirt like Hester inThe Scarlet Letter.
Jamie thinks the world is his to control. That he can tell me, convince me, how to think and how to feel, like I’m some puppet. I usedto believe it—get swept up in it. But it’s getting harder and harder not to see past his lies; that he’s anything other than selfish; that he cares.
“It did happen, Jamie. You can’t just make it ‘unhappen.’ Belle’s smarter than you think. She won’t believe you.”
Jamie laughs. “That’s ridiculous. Of course she will.”
“It’s not! And I’m so tired of you pretending things didn’t happen!” My face heats up. I hate the way he looks at me, so unbothered by everything. “Things like the accident.”
His eyes darken, eyebrows knitting together.
“What accident?” he asks, his tone changing, deeper than before.
That shuts me up.
He leans in close, whispering, “You should think before you open your mouth, Chi. People might start to think you’re making things up for attention.” His voice drips with venom.
We stare at each other for a few moments, his lips tugging up a little. Almost like he’s smiling at me.
No.
Mocking me.
“See you around, Chiamaka,” he says, his voice slithering back to its neutral state.
Then he moves past, and I watch his figure compress as he walks away, until it is no longer discernible. The cold in the hallway sweeps into my body.
There are moments when something happens, and puzzle pieces that didn’t connect before now fit together perfectly. Maybe the piece I’d failed to connect was the one where I thought that Jamie was any different from Ava or Ruby. That he ever really loved me or valued our friendship.
