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Jordan goes still, eyes tightening. “Kennedy . . . it kills me that you won’t even try. Do you have any idea what I would give to have an opportunity to resolve all the things my parents and I left unsaid? At least your father is alive. At least you still have time to fix what’s broken.”
“Can we please drop it?” I snatch the linen top sheet from where we kicked it during our activities and pull it to my armpits, covering my naked body. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Fine. Let’s discuss spring formal.” He leans against the wall behind us and crosses his arms. “I think we should skip it and spend the night at the drive-in instead. The Comet’s showing a horror double feature—Carrie and Prom Night. Seems appropriate under the circumstances.”
I laugh and flop against the mattress, relieved to leave thoughts of my father behind. “I wish. I’m supposed to announce the winner at the formal.”
Jordan releases a ragged breath, and I slide my gaze in his direction.
“Don’t worry.” I wink. “You’ve got this in the bag.”
A cool mask settles over his features, and he turns to stone before my eyes.
I jerk upright, as an uncomfortable tingle races down my spine. “Jordan?”
“You said you didn’t care about the competition anymore.” His jaw ticks, the corded muscles on his neck standing out.
I cock my head sideways, confused by his sudden mood shift. “I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, it’s nothing but a formality at this point. It has been since that first time you kissed me in that closet.”
He jumps to his feet, gaping down at me as if I were a stranger. “You said you were quitting.”
“No. I didn’t.”
His hand flies into his tangled hair. “You said I was more important to you than the fucking scholarship.”
“You are.” I reach for his other hand, but he pulls it away as if I’d burned him.
He paces to the window, staring out at the first ribbons of dawn in the horizon. “You stood right here and said you were done with the whole thing.”
“I am done!” I sit up and wrap my arms around my knees. “But I need to see it through so I can get the scholarship!”
He whirls to face me. “The scholarship you don’t even need?”
My voice hitches, my heart racing. “You’re not being fair!”
His eyes tighten. “Is it fair that I had to watch my girlfriend go on dates and pretend it wasn’t eating me up inside? Fair that I set aside my fucking dignity to play dress-up for your damn magazine photo shoot? I put myself in situations I would’ve never willingly tolerated for anyone else, because I love you.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “Jesus, my aunt and uncle saw those pictures, and I had to tell them you were only doing it to win a scholarship! Do you have any idea how bad that sounds out of context?”
I blink back tears as he rattles off my crimes as if I’ve been whoring myself out for my education. “And I love you for doing that.”
“You love . . . ?” A dark laugh rolls up his throat. “I love you, Kennedy. I chose you over myself. Over my pride. In spite of this crazy fucking competition and everything that comes with it, I love you . . . but you didn’t choose me.” He drops his head, exhaling through his nose. “Did you know . . . ? When we were having sex—effectively putting an end to the competition, I might add—did you know that you were still going through with it? Still picking a damn scholarship over me.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed to be with you. And you won’t even step away from a competition vying for something you no longer even have. I can only take so much abuse, and I’m tired of being your dirty little secret!” He scoops my still-damp shirt from the floor and balls it up, throwing it onto the bed beside me. “I’m done. With all of it.”
As if he’d launched a live grenade into my lap, I flinch, dropping the sheet as I scramble to my knees to plead with him. “Jordan, wait!”
He shoves both hands into his hair and squeezes until his knuckles whiten. “If I’d known how twisted this whole thing would become, I would’ve destroyed that fucking list when I found it!” The air in his lungs races out in a rush and his gaze snaps to mine, eyes stretching wide. “Fuck . . . Kennedy, I—fuck!”
My heart lodges in my throat as his words sink in. “What did you say?”
His fingers go slack, slipping from his mangled hair. Anguish twists his features, and he slowly shakes his head as if he’s as shocked by his admission as I am. “I didn’t know you then. All those horrible things written about me in the list—your list. I thought you—I didn’t know.”
“You posted the list?” Blinking up at him, I suddenly feel entirely too exposed. I grab my balled-up shirt, dragging it over my head and shoving my arms through the holes.
“Please.” His voice cracks. “You have to understand. I was hurt. And angry.”
“All this time, you were the one. And you let me believe . . .” I can’t catch my breath. “You had a dozen chances to tell the truth, and instead, you chose to perpetuate the lie. What happened to no more secrets? You talk about trust, and blindsiding, and all along you knew.”
