Page 44 of One More Chapter
“Girl, I’d say write these in a book, but you’ve already got that covered,” Juliet says, stabbing her salad with a fork while shaking her head.
“I just wish I could find a guy that didn’t try so hard to ruin me,” I groan, tilting my head back to stare at the popcorn tiles on the ceiling.
“And Anthony is still trying to ruin you, how, exactly?”
My head snaps back toward my friends, and I can tell by the looks in their eyes that I look way angrier at the sound of his name than I have any right to be. Sheepishly, I tell them what happened last night.
“Claire suggested that I…maybe goeasieron him. That living and working together might be better if we make amends. She oh so kindly pointed out that I’m not allowing him to do so, and that I’m getting in the way of myself, so I decided to make him dinner. Only, I didn’t exactlytell himthat I would be making us dinner, and when he got home late, I…”
My heart stutters. I hate admitting my faults out loud.
“I was sad, okay? It felt just like when he stood me up the first time.”
“Woah, wait, he did what now?”
In all of the Swiss cheese versions of Anthony and I that I’ve shared, this is the last little detail that I’ve kept to myself.
“When we got back home after the trip, we texted non-stop. He was in the middle of getting baseball season started, and I was finishing a book, so we put a date on the calendar. I double—triple—checked, even, that we were still on. I got myself all dolled up—new dress, got my hair blown out, actually did my makeup for once. And then, I waited. An hour. After two had passed, I finally gave up. The waitress at the bar comped my drinks because she felt bad.”
I say it all to the table, reliving the embarrassment that had consumed me over every other emotion. To be duped into loving someone only for them to pull the whole foundation out from under you can leave an irreparable sting.
“Thatis why it has been so hard to let him talk.” It comes out softly, on the tail of reliving those emotions that had wrung out my heart like a wet sponge. “Because the last time I put myself out there, he didn’t show up. He wouldn’t even answer his phone. I ended up calling his mother to make sure he wasn’tdead in a ditch somewhere, but no. He was alive and well. Pretending like I didn’t exist, letting what we had disappear as quickly as popping a bubble.”
I shrug. Sniffle. Gather all of the garbage on the table in an attempt to disperse the creepy crawlies that are suddenly all over my skin.
“And you have every right to protect your heart,” Lucy says. “You’ll talk to him when you’re ready.”
“Or,” Juliet says, staring off inquisitively, “you just write all of his bad deeds into a book. He gave you a whole plot, girl. Take it as a gift and run with it. You don’t owe him anything.”
I can’t say I haven’t thought about it—putting my own personal heartbreak on the page under different names. Granted, the last time I considered it, I’d had an entire bottle of wine after ramming my head repeatedly into a cinderblock wall of writer’s block. It was also when my heart was raw. When I couldn’t even fathom putting us to the page without the shreds of my heart disintegrating. Now though, it’s not necessarily abadidea. Especially with Finn and Delilah seemingly suspended in time on the page, staring at a giant pause button. A plot map pops into my head, disappearing as soon as a calendar reminder pops up on my phone.
Apparently “talking to Ant when I’m ready” could come sooner than I’d anticipated.
Because we have detention duty together today.
seventeen
anthony
This day is takingplace in the Twilight Zone, and no amount of blinking my eyes or pinching my skin will force me to wake up.
First, we got yanked out of class because of a fire alarm. Naturally, since I’m helping with administrative duties for the time being, I had to watch the cameras while Nate dealt with the firemen. After we’d found the culprit in 4K technicolor, he asked me to go outside and manage crowd control as everyone was let back into the building.
I never realized how much envy could lie in wait until it all came rushing to the surface, seeing Penelope Barker leaning in close to talk to a firefighter—who was, objectively good looking—I almost wanted to light a neighboring building on fire just to send him away.
Next, I have been seemingly yanked out of any actual teaching for the remainder of the day to deal with said fire alarm ringer. His name is Dominic Lupica, and he’s new to the district. I know nothing about him. Nate fills me in pretty quickly.
“I’m not sure what the protocol is here. In- or out-of-school suspensions are both options. Lucy mentioned that Dominic isnew to the district because his father recently passed, and he and his mother wanted a fresh start.”
He shakes his head, steepling his fingers in front of his lips.
“That’s not sitting right with you, is it?”
“No. If I had lashed out after my parents’ death, making me sit in a room all day to ‘think about my actions’ would be the opposite of productive.”
“I agree.” My knee bounces, the bees already raging to come out of my mouth. Sometimes, I wish I could put a lid on my impulsiveness. Right now seems like a good time to let it go unchecked. “What about neither?”
“Hmm? What did you have in mind?”