Heartbreaker - Julie Kriss Page 0,10

the edge of a tattoo under one sleeve. The trim beard on his jaw made him look rugged, less clean-cut.

The silence stretched on too long, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Holden, what do you want?”

“I came to apologize,” Holden said. “I hope that’s okay. I know I just kind of showed up.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“Maybe you don’t want a guy around right now.”

What was he talking about? Then I remembered. I looked down at myself. When I’d changed after work, I’d put on the only clean T-shirt I had. On the front was a cartoon fist surrounded by jagged shards. The words beneath it said: Smash the Patriarchy!

I liked this shirt, but I only wore it at home. It was a little… strident, maybe.

The silence between me and Holden stretched out again. “You haven’t apologized,” I said, because I couldn’t just look at him. It was too much.

Holden scratched the back of his neck. “What?”

“You said you came here to apologize, but you didn’t actually apologize. Those are two different things.”

“I know. I’m working up to it.”

“Okay, well, work faster. And I’m not apologizing for the shirt.”

“I didn’t say you should.”

“We really should smash the patriarchy.”

“Okay.” Holden took a deep breath. “Mina, I’m sorry for what happened on prom night. Really, really sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ve felt bad about it for the past ten years, but I was too chicken to do anything about it. I’ve decided it’s time for me to man up and apologize for one of the worst things I’ve ever done. So here I am, and I’m sorry.”

I stood there, speechless. Every word left my brain.

Holden looked at me. “Mina?”

I didn’t say anything. I just stared at him.

Ten years. Ten years I’d been waiting for those words, and here they were.

“Mina? Are you okay?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think I am.”

And then I burst into tears.

It was humiliating, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t even blame my period, because that was two weeks away. I was crying because after ten years, Holden Whittaker had actually told me he was sorry.

And now he was holding me, his arms around me as I sobbed. I tried to stop but the tears just kept coming, dripping off my face and onto my shirt.

“Jesus, Mina, I’m sorry,” Holden said. His arms were firm and warm. He smelled so good. I cried harder.

After a while I hiccupped and got a hold of myself. I looked down at the wet spot on the front of my shirt, right over the fist. “Soak the patriarchy,” I said.

Holden chuckled, and I felt the vibration. His chest… His chest was muscled. I could feel the muscles move beneath his shirt, because there were a lot of them. It reminded me of More Than One Fireman, but this was the boy who broke my heart. I pushed him away.

“Why did you do it?” I asked, mopping my face. “Was it a joke to invite the fat girl to the prom, then stand her up? Did you think it was funny?”

“It wasn’t funny.” Holden’s tone was grim. “It wasn’t fucking funny. And what are you talking about with fat girl? That wasn’t what you were.”

“Excuse me, what high school did you go to? Oh, right, the one where you were the most popular everything. Not the one where you got oinked at in the halls.”

He actually looked shocked and disgusted. “I never did that.”

“No, you didn’t.” Which was why I’d actually believed he’d take me to the prom. More fool me. “It doesn’t matter now. If it wasn’t a joke, then why did you stand me up? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Why did you just leave me hanging?”

Holden’s shoulders sagged and something dark crossed behind his eyes. “It’s such a long story, Mina. I don’t even know where to start.”

I sighed and finished mopping my eyes. The skin beneath my eyes was sore from scrubbing, and I probably looked like a puffy fright. Suddenly I was really tired. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’m not in the mood for a long story that’s all about you right now.”

“I want to tell you, though. I do.” His gaze searched my face. “Let me take you to dinner.”

For a second, that sounded all right. Then I pictured myself sitting in a restaurant somewhere, ordering water and eating breadsticks, waiting for Holden Whittaker to show up. Getting stood up again.

“No way,” I said.

He seemed to read my mind, or maybe he was