“So we should’ve gone there,” she snapped. I knew she was angry with me now. Knew I’d gone and ruined everything. Hurt her. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself from lashing out at her. “You don’t have to take me out to an expensive restaurant to make me happy. God. You should know that by now.”
“Should I? I don’t think so.” I grabbed her hands, trying to entwine my fingers with hers, but she didn’t uncurl her fists. “The girl I know surfs and goes to soup kitchens and isn’t afraid to get dirty. The girl I know loves McDonald’s and Islands and doesn’t care about tuxes and dresses.”
She snatched her hands back. “Yeah, and that’s still me. Fancy dresses don’t change what’s underneath.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I sighed and shut my eyes for a second, trying to find the right words to make her understand what I was thinking. When I opened them, she looked at me as if I’d killed her puppy in front of her and then served him up for dinner. “Look, I’ve been thinking, and—”
“Oh my God.” She scooted into the corner of the limo, her lower lip quivering. “Are you…are you breaking up with me? Already?”
My mind whirled at that. “What? No.”
She took a shaky breath. “You scared the heck out of me. Never start a fight and then say, ‘I’ve been thinking’ ever again.” She smacked my arm hard, then did it again even harder. “Got it, love? And also? Don’t take me on dates you’re going to hate. That’s not my idea of a fun time, for future reference.”
“Fine. But tell me one thing, Ginger,” I said, emphasizing the nickname in the same sarcastic way she’d done to me. “Why can’t you admit you fucking wanted this date and stop acting like you don’t? Why can’t you admit you want suits and jewelry and limos? Why can’t you admit who you are?”
She threw her hands up. “Okay, maybe I did want it for one night. Jeez, is that so bad? Does that warrant you yelling at me and acting like an alcoholic because you’re forced to go out with me?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I looked out the window, trying to regain the calm I’d lost the second we’d started arguing. I’d been trying to tell her I had to change and would—but that it wasn’t easy for me. And now we were in each other’s faces screaming about shit that didn’t matter. “I had two drinks. Two. Drinks.”
“In three seconds,” she snapped. “Why can’t you admit that?”
I snorted. “When you’re old enough to drink, you can lecture me about my drinking habits. Until then? Not so much. You’re barely more than a baby as it is. You can grow the fuck up before you judge me.”
She stiffened. “Excuse me?”
I swallowed hard, realizing I was being a complete ass. I was a failure and I was only making it worse with every word I said. How had we gotten here, and how the hell did we get out of this train wreck of a night? “Shit. This is getting out of hand. Maybe we should stop talking now.”
“Yeah. Maybe we should. And maybe this whole date thing was a horrible idea,” she agreed, her voice shaking. She jammed her finger into the button for the intercom, speaking to the driver directly and ignoring me. “Change of plans. Take me to the dorms at the University of—”
I zoned out as she gave her instructions, my head making a hollow ocean sound. How many chances would I get before she said the hell with me and moved on? I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and tried to fix the fucking mess I’d made by opening my mouth in the first place. “Carrie, look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
She shot me the death glare from hell. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’d storm off right now if you wouldn’t follow me because you have to because it’s your job. This is a fight, and we’ll get through it. But right now? This date? We’re done. We’re so freaking done.”
My heart lurched and I scrambled to grab her hands. She jerked out of my reach and gave me a look that froze me in my tracks. She’d never looked at me with such…disappointment. Not even when she’d found out who I really was.
I swallowed past the crippling guilt trying to kill me. “Please, don’t go. We can go back home and talk. There’s nothing we can’t work through without—”
The limo stopped and she shot me a dark look. “Conversations don’t fix everything,” she threw back in my face.
She opened the door and got out, and I scooted after her. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of this. I was just trying to explain how I feel.”
“Well, you suck at explaining feelings.” She stopped walking and scowled at me. “Tonight you’re not my boyfriend. You’re my bodyguard. So watch me go inside so you know I made it home safe—and then leave me alone. It’s your job, right?”
I bit my tongue from lashing out at her. I didn’t want to keep fighting, damn it. I wanted to fix this. “Are you always going to throw that in my face every time we fight?”
Shit. I hadn’t bitten hard enough.
“Yeah. Maybe. Or, at least, I will until I grow up.”
She stormed off, and I watched her go, knowing I was a fucking idiot for taking what should have been a great night and turning it into an awful memory.
As if we didn’t have enough of those already.
8
I stomped my way upstairs and made it to my room in record time. I hadn’t slept in this room since the night before Finn and I got back together, and I really didn’t want to be here now. I don’t know what had happened out there, but it had escalated really, really fast. Like, supersonic speed fast.
I unlocked the door and shut it behind me, breathing heavily. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to cry. Refusing to let this get to me. We had enough crap going on right now, and then we had to go and ruin what should have been a date night with anger and shouting. What was wrong with us that we couldn’t gain some sort of equilibrium where there wasn’t something wrong all the time?
I smacked the door behind me with my open palm so hard it made my hand sting and ache. “Goddamn it all to hell.”
“Uh, Carrie?” Marie asked, her voice quiet. “You okay over there?”
I opened my eyes and quickly located her. She sat at the table with her books open. She had her long platinum blonde hair in a sloppy bun, and black glasses perched on her perfect nose that only brought out her bright eyes even more. The irony of Marie home studying while I was out with a guy struck home as it well should.
That’s probably what I should have been doing instead of fighting with Finn.
“Not really,” I managed to say before I broke down and burst into tears. I quickly covered my face, trying to hide myself from her and the world. I didn’t do this. Didn’t cry in front of people. What had happened to me lately? “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh,” Marie said. I heard a shuffling sound and then her arms were around me. “Don’t apologize. Just cry if you need to.”
I took a gulping breath and sobbed into her shoulder, holding on to her as if she was the only thing keeping me afloat in the middle of the ocean. This whole situation was ridiculous, because we weren’t even close, really, and yet I was crying all over her. By the time I finished, she was soaked and I was embarrassed more than words could say.
I pulled back and she hugged me tighter, not letting me go. “Give it another second. You might not be done yet.”
I swiped my hands under my eyes and laughed nervously, feeling like a complete idiot. “I’m good.”