“It’s been fal ing apart for so long—”
Oh my God. Are they breaking up?
“But I’m just not ready for it,” he finishes.
My heart hardens to ice. Screw him. Seriously. SCREW. HIM.“Why not, St. Clair? Why aren’t you ready for it?”
He looks up at me when I say his name. St. Clair, not Étienne. He’s hurt, but I don’t care. He’s St. Clair again. Flirty, friends-with-everyone St. Clair. I HATE him. Before he can answer, I’m stumbling down the sidewalk. I can’t look at him anymore. I’ve been so stupid. I’m such an idiot.
It’s Toph, all over again.
He cal s after me, but I keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. I’m focusing so hard on my steps that I bump into a streetlamp. I curse and kick it. Again and again and again and suddenly St. Clair is pul ing me back, pul ing me away from it, and I’m kicking and screaming and I’m so tired and I just want to go HOME.
“Anna. Anna!”
“What’s happening?” someone asks. Meredith and Rashmi and Josh surround us. When did they get here? How long have they been watching us?
“It’s all right,” St. Clair says. “She’s just a little drunk—”
“I am NOT DRUNK.”
“Anna, you’re drunk, and I’m drunk, and this is ridiculous. Let’s just go home.”
“I don’t want to go home with you!”
“What the hel has gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? You’ve got a lot of nerve asking that.” I stagger toward Rashmi. She steadies me while giving Josh an appal ed look. “Just tell me one thing, St. Clair. I just want to know one thing.”
He stares at me. Furious. Confused.
I pause to steady my voice. “Why are you stil with her?”
Silence.
“Fine. Don’t answer me. And you know what? Don’t cal me either. We’re done. Bonne nuit.”
I’m already stomping away when he replies.
“Because I don’t want to be alone right now.” His voice echoes through the night.
I turn around to face him one last time. “You weren’t alone, ass**le.”
Chapter thirty-five
Wow, Anna.You are such a mean drunk.”
I pul the covers over my head. Rashmi is on the phone. My head is kil ing me.
“How much did you and St. Clair drink last night?”
Étienne. What happened last night? I remember the club. I remember the music and—Was there dancing? I think there was dancing—and, oh yeah,
some girl was yel ing at us, and then we went outside and . . . oh no.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
I sit up quickly and ohmyfreakinggod my head is THROBBING. I close my eyes to shut out the painful light, and slowly, slowly sink back down into bed.