“I’ve seen her around school for years, and I always thought she was way out of my league…” He gives me a sheepish smile, faceturning a little red. “But then we started talking and I knew she was special.”
His words fade, going over my head as he speaks. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I can feel cracks forming, my chest aching. I blink, angry tears falling. I quickly wipe my eyes, not wanting to smudge my makeup.
“I knew you’d be happy for me, but not this happy…,” he jokes, despite the concern on his face.
I can’t stop myself. “I thought you were going to tell me something else.”
His eyebrows furrow together. “Like what?”
I feel stupid.
“That you liked me,” I say quietly.
There are a few moments of complete silence, broken only by the wind and distant conversations from inside the building.
Jamie’s face screws up, like the thought of us together is wrong. “You’re my best friend, Chi. You know I don’t see you in that way.”
Images push their way into my brain: that night he asked me to go to his bedroom at the beginning of junior year, all those nights since, the connection I thought we had. It was meant to be me and Jamie at the top of the school. We were meant to go to college together, get married, be wildly successful, have two wildly successful kids, then die.
“I’m dating Belle. I thought you would be happy for me.”
Belle. Blond-haired, blue-eyed fuckingBelle Robinson.
I know her from some of my classes last year, and she’s also on the girls’ lacrosse team. She’s semipopular, not because she worked for it, but because she’s pretty. People love to reward conventionally attractive people.
He takes my hand in his. “You’re amazing,” he starts.But I’m not Belle, I finish for him in my head. “I don’t think you like me, Chi. I think you like the idea of me.”
His words float above me once again, blurring into the background noise. He’s used this line on so many girls; he lets them down easy, tells them their idea of being together is a fantasy. And I can’t believe I fell for the fantasy myself. I’m so stupid. I tricked myself into believing I was above that. Better than girls like Belle. But apparently, I’m not.
I always thought Jamie turned these girls down because he wanted to be with me. I guess I was wrong.
Jamie’s the best at talking people into believing him; he’s the best at talking me into things. And he’s the best at pretending nothing’s wrong when things all go to shit. Leaving me to deal with the aftermath.
Suddenly, even though I don’t want them to, memories start piling into my head. Junior year, winter break. The night I’ve spent every moment since trying to forget… Screeching tires, louder than our singing voices moments before as we yelled the lyrics to “Livin’ on a Prayer.” The sound of a shrill scream making him swerve and slam into a tree, jolting us forward. My head bashing against the dashboard—
“Fuck!” Jamie shouts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… I think we hit something.”
My entire body trembles, chest squeezing as I try to breathe but can’t. The sound of the car unlocking sends a sharp wave of nausea into my system as Jamie staggers out into the road.
“FUCK!” Jamie screams. He stumbles back, tugging at his hair. The sound of the radio drowns him out. I desperately hit the off button.
“Chiamaka, we hit a fucking girl!”
I can hear her scream in my head again—I’m going to throw up.
Jamie leans into the car, hair wet from the rain that’s pouring down outside and sticking to his pale forehead. He’s breathing fast, like he just finished a marathon. The smell of the leather car seats mixed with Jamie’s musky cologne is overpowering, making my brain feel heavy.
“Chiamaka, we need to do something. My dad can’t find out!” He’s pleading. Rain pounds the road as I peer out the window at the body—herbody. Through the rivulets, I see her face. Blond curls, pale skin, a dark pool forming a halo around her head. I gag, gripping on to the cold, hard dashboard, closing my eyes.
I feel so sick.
I should get out—see if she’s breathing. But I can’t move; my limbs are stuck in place.
“W-we should check if she’s breathing. And we need to call an ambulance, the police—” I say as I take my phone out of my coat, fingers trembling.
Jamie’s eyes are desperate as he snatches my phone from my hands, shoving it into his pants pocket. “We can’t, my dad will kill me!” His voice rises. I jump in my seat as he kicks the side of his car, hard. “He’s gonna fucking murder me.”
Jamie hunches over, the rain pouring down his face, and places his hands on his knees, breathing harder than before.
