Kiss and Break Up - Ella Fields Page 0,95

saw your college applications.”

A harsh breath vacated him, feathering my lips. “You did, did you?”

I nodded, and his hold loosened just enough for me to push off him but not enough for me to escape. Though I definitely could have if I wanted to. I suppose I didn’t want to. “What did you do that for?”

His brows knitted. “Because it was always the plan.”

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to college or us. “But then we landed in a steaming pile of crap. You can’t base your future off the decisions I make for mine.”

“Like hell I can’t,” he said. “And I can study business at any old crummy college. Those plans are flexible, but the plans I have for you?” He shook his head. “Nowhere near the realm of flexible.”

I gave up on holding them back, and he wiped at the tears leaking out. “What if—”

“What if what? We’ve fucked it all up already, and now we have one option.” He kissed a lone tear near my eye, licking it as he whispered, “To go all in. I’m already there, waiting for you to let go and meet me in the deep end.”

“I’m scared,” I said, unsure where the admission had come from.

“Good.” Dash’s body felt impossibly warm against mine as if even his skin was trying to reassure me. “If love doesn’t terrify you, you’re not in love. And if you’re not in love, then what are you, Peggy?” He didn’t wait for me to answer that. He opened the door, then helped me inside. “I’ll be tracking your phone, just FYI.” After tapping the roof, he watched as I backed out.

I was still reeling from all he’d said. So much so, that his last comment didn’t even bother me.

Peggy

Dash continued with his usual antics for the remainder of the week, and I was tired. So damn tired of feeling like I was hanging from an unraveling thread. I needed to let go, but instead, I continued to wait for the snap.

If you’re not in love, then what are you, Peggy?

I knew exactly what I was. I was terrified, and I was still bleeding, which only compounded that terror.

Letting go of it meant I had to forgive, move forward, and try to heal. I wasn’t sure I was ready for it, but I wasn’t sure I could keep hanging there, hoping to escape more heartbreak.

Holding a grudge close to your heart was easier. It was simpler, in some ways, than addressing the reason it was there, like a piece of cement blocking an artery, in the first place. He’d hurt me, but I’d hurt him first. This wasn’t a game, and it wasn’t fair to either of us, yet there was no real way to win or lose.

Willa finally called from a new number, saying she’d fill us in on Saturday.

When she showed up at my house, there were tears, hugs, and more tears as she tried to tell us what’d happened.

“Who told them?” I asked, the photo of Dash and me sitting atop sheets of paper that would blend well with my dress.

Willa scrubbed at her face, wearing no makeup yet still looking stunning with her naturally long, thick lashes and swollen, pink lips. Her eyes were red, but her complexion was clear. “I have no idea.”

“We’ll find out,” Daphne said, stabbing the glue stick at her. “Mark my words. And when we do …” She dragged the glue stick in the air across her throat.

Willa cracked a smile, and I patted her hand. “So that’s your new number?”

“Yeah,” she said, staring down at her closed album, paper and shapes stealing out of the edges. “Dad got me a new phone even though Mom had warned him I wasn’t allowed to have one.”

Daphne harrumphed. “Not like she can say shit after kicking you out.”

Willa smiled again. “That’s exactly what Dad said.”

“What did he say about you and Jackson?” Daphne asked.

She took her time answering, adjusting the collar of her light brown peasant dress. “He wasn’t happy. But then again, he hates Mom, so I think even though he doesn’t think it’s okay, he’s trying to be accepting of us to spite her.”

I began cutting out the moon I’d stenciled onto the bubblegum pink paper. “Are you and Jackson still together?”

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was unbearably soft. “But I don’t know how it’s going to work. I start at the public school on Monday, and Mom is probably tracking his phone.”

I pushed aside the memory