The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,63
what—”
“No!” The look she gave him, full of disdain and not the love I’d seen pass between them before, confirmed it. I’d ruined everything. “I’m done listening.”
Shock made Ever release Four’s hand, and she bolted out the door, leaving him behind. If he noticed the whispers and the stares, he didn’t care. He watched her go for a few seconds before turning. The moment his red-rimmed eyes fell on me, he stopped—his jaw clenching.
“I’m sorry.” And I was. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but it didn’t mean shit because it did happen.
Ever’s nostrils flared as he looked away. I held my breath, waiting for him to rip me a new one, but he didn’t. He stormed away, and even though I wanted to follow, like Ever, I was forced to watch him go.
The hall was silent, and for a moment, I thought I was alone until someone began clapping slow. Spinning around, I found the crowd watching me, some with sympathetic gazes and others with mocking sneers. I hated them both. Searching the sea of faces, I found Jamie at the edge, leaning against the trophy case. Clapping.
“Congratulations,” he said the moment our gazes met. “That’s two more people you ruined.” He stood up to his full height before swaggering over. I felt about an inch high by the time he reached me. “Nothing to say?”
I hung my head even as my fists balled. I was at war with myself. All my fault. Slowly, my fingers uncurled. I had no right to be angry.
I felt Jamie’s lips at my ear in an instant. “You see love, you break love. That’s what you do.”
My head felt heavy when I finally lifted it, but I pushed past my sorrow. “We weren’t in love, Jamie. It was summer, and you were fun. Get over yourself.”
I tried to walk around him, but he pulled me back with a hand on my arm.
Tilting my chin, he held my gaze. “I still am,” he whispered. “A hell of a lot more than when we were kids.”
The hand holding my chin slid down my side slowly. As if I hadn’t been humiliated enough, the asshole began groping me in front of the entire school.
“We both love unrequited,” he continued while caressing my ass, “that’s the answer to the riddle. My cousin clearly just made his choice. Have some fun with me.”
“If I’m ever in the market for an STD, I’ll let you know.” Jamie didn’t stop me this time when I pushed him away, but I should have known he’d never let me leave with my head held high.
“Let’s give it up for Four, everyone. The better bachelorette got the rose.” Jamie started clapping again, but this time, he wasn’t alone. Slowly, the crowd that had remained to witness the Jamie Freak Show joined him, and they didn’t stop there. I could still hear them chanting Four’s name when I rushed through the door and out onto the front lawn. I wanted to run, but I realized as I looked around that there was nowhere to go. Ever was the last person I could turn to, and I’d pushed him too far.
I see love, I break love. That’s what I do.
I’d gone to bed last night happy to finally put the disastrous day behind me until I realized my nightmare was only beginning. Tonight was prom night, and my parents were fully expecting me to attend on my fiancé’s arm.
I started the morning pretending to be sick, but by the end of the day, it hadn’t mattered to my parents. I was going to prom. They saw tonight as an opportunity for me to warm Ever’s cold feet.
Just wait until they heard the rumors.
I could tell them myself, but I had a better idea. I could run.
Who needed a high school diploma, anyway? I’d taken my final exam on Monday and knew that I’d passed. Without a social life, the only thing I had to occupy my time was my studies. I’d studied hard and made straight A’s, knowing that college would never be an option. I never got the chance to dream, anyway. I didn’t know if I wanted to be a doctor or an astronaut or a reality TV star. It’s not too late to find out.
“Now, Barbette, tonight is very important,” my mother said, chasing away the hope warming my chest. She handed me a pair of gold heels that were cruel to my poor, helpless feet. They hadn’t asked