“I was a heartless bitch,” I say softly, but I’m unable to look him in the eyes. “That’s not me anymore.”
“You got what you wanted. You got an ‘A’, a free trip to the beach, and a couple great fucks. But that was all just a bonus on top of the satisfaction you’ve gained by winning some game.” He nods his head, and there’s a sullen look painted around his eyes and lips. “You broke my heart, so I guess congratulations are in order.” His eyes sink like stones, dragging me to the bottom of a bottomless lake. “Congratu-fucking-lations.”
“I love you…”
“Here’s a tip. Wipe that puppy dog look off your face and get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again.” He’s done with me, forcing me to say goodbye as he turns to head back into class.
Everyone who has walked into my life has left. Sometimes, I force them out. Other times, they’ve had enough. None of them have ever hurt like this. With everything I have done to the people I’ve met, I don’t deserve a happy ending. I know that, but still I fight against the currents of the inevitable. Losing him would mean going back to the wicked, empty life I’ve created for myself.
I’m not going down without a fight. “You are not going to put this all on me,” I scream and throw my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. “I tried telling you, but you wouldn’t hear it.”
He jerks away from my touch, and his lips quiver with disgust.
“I like you for everything you are. Don’t change a thing,” I continue. “Do those words sound familiar? They should. You said them.”
“That’s not fair,” he chokes on the words as they come out in a hollow, hushed whisper.
“What’s not fair is for you to dump this on me the way you did. I wanted to tell you so bad, but it was never the right moment. You wouldn’t hear it. You were too in love with who you thought I was. And I admit, this started out as something else. You were nothing more than a conquest.” I shrug, but it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because the words don’t come easy. “I didn’t know you then.”
“You can’t treat people this way, Apple.” His voice comes down a notch, back into a tone in which we can actually converse without anger and bitterness spitting from our lips. “I don’t think it matters one way or the other if you had a change of heart. You can’t change overnight. You can’t stop being who you are like it’s a switch you turn on and off.”
“I’ve changed.” I step to him, and raise my chin so I can catch a deep look into his eyes. “And I know it’s hard for you to believe because it’s not something you can touch or feel, but I love you and I wish I could make it right.”
He throws his hands in the air, cleansing himself from the bad situation we’ve found ourselves in. “You can’t fix what was never broken, because it never existed in the first place.”
When I think he’s going to turn around and leave, he doesn’t. He watches me as if he’s waiting for something, but I can’t discern what. But when I see him standing there, so stern in his resolution I do the one thing I told myself I would never do.
I break in front of him. It’s quick, and it’s furious. It’s a downpour of rain during a sunny baseball game. It’s unexpected and terrifying, like the first time you jump from a bridge into the river below. It’s heavy—the weight of the world washing over my face.
My eyes are heavy—the weight of the world pushing them half-shut. My vision goes blurry, and he becomes a shadow; a distant silhouette. My lips tremble, but words don’t come out. Not that they could be heard over the brute force of my emotional break, anyway.
“Did you care about me at all?” he asks with the kind of emptiness you’d find in a stark-black dream.
I push away the tears from my eyes, but the tears come too fast, wiping away any sense of temporary clarity. “I think you know the answer.”
“I want to believe you, but it’s hard.” His shadow falls over me before I realize he’s shifted toward me. “God,” he says through a deep exhale, “it’s so fucking hard.”
“Can you meet me after class?” I say through muffled sobs. The very thought that he can see me this way, makes me want to vomit. Vulnerability isn’t something that empowers me. It’s something that destroys me.
“I don’t know.” His actions speak otherwise as he places a palm on my shoulder. There’s a chance, no matter how evasive, that we’ll be able to reach some sort of resolution. “I’m not making a commitment, but I’ll agree to a conversation.” He looks away and cups the length of his mouth with his hand. “I think we owe each other at least that.”
I place my palm on his hand that rests on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“You can say it a million times.” He stares down at my hand with empty eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything changes.”
His words cut through me like glass, digging through my skin in a frantic attempt to tear my heart open, but I fight back the tears. Strong women don’t cry, that’s what I’ve learned. But I’m often wrong, and the greatest teacher in my life—Brick—has often led me adrift.
“I’m not saying it to change anything. I’m saying it because it’s how I feel. For the first time in my life, I mean it.”
He flicks his wrist and takes a glance at his watch. “I’ll stop by your house later, but I need to get back in there. We’ve made enough of a scene as it is.”
I give him a nod, and he returns the gesture before turning to head back into his classroom. We both have major damage control to take care of. I have a foot postmarked for Brick’s dumb ass, and Jensen has to explain away the crazy girl who made a scene in his classroom.
Jensen pushes through the door of the lecture hall, but comes to an abrupt halt. He takes one last careful step into the classroom and familiar sounds echo through my ear—A haunting, enticing slice of déja vu.
This cannot be happening. I rush to Jensen’s side. Pushing past his frozen body, I peer into the classroom and everything becomes clear.
Everything.
Falls.
Apart.
27
Jensen pushes me deeper into the mattress. His perfect, round ass is on display for the world to see as he makes slow, careful thrusts into me.
“Are you okay?” he whispers while he continues making love to me.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Definitely worth the ‘A’.” It was a harmless joke, but nobody is going to see it that way.
Every single student is glued to the screen of the projector, watching on in segments of shock, laughter and confusion.
“Jensen…” I whisper and turn to him, but he’s already gone. “Jensen,” I scream as I dart out into the hall. He marches down the open corridor, paying no attention to my desperate cries. “Jensen…”
It’s surreal hearing the sound of my own moans as I rush down the hallway. As I pass another full lecture hall, I see a professor fumbling with a dysfunctional remote, trying to shut the video off.
Everybody knows.
Jensen’s reputation is destroyed, and so is mine. Brick said that him and I were karma, but I can no longer agree. This is karma. This is what I get for falling in love.
Jensen throws open the glass door at the end of the hall, slamming it into the exterior brick walls. I race through the open door, taking notice of the broken glass littered along the cement steps that lead down to the sidewalk.
“Stop,” I command him.
He twists on his foot. Rage and embarrassment burn red in his face. His eyes are swollen, a side effect of holding something back. “You are so full of tricks.”
“I didn’t—“
“This is my life! You won’t stop until you have taken everything away from me.”
“Listen to me,” I plead with him, but I know it’s fruitless.
“No,” he screams and waves his hands. “I’m done. Finished. Forever.”
I chew into my lip and shake my head. “You have to believe me.”