Page 77 of The Break-Up Pact

“Don’t you worry, I think you’re safe. Also, what brings you here bright and early?” I ask.

“I wanted to help. And also scam a free scone. But mostly run the draft of the piece I’m submitting for Fizzle past you,” she says, with an uncharacteristic self-consciousness.

My eyes widen. “It’s finally ready?”

She lifts a hand up with a so-so gesture. “It’s getting there.”

Just then, my phone lights up on the table where I left it, Griffin’s name popping up on the screen. I make a gagging face and am just about to send it to voice mail when Sana reaches out and stills my hand.

“Wait. Answer it,” says Sana. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

I tilt my head at her. “Why?”

“Research purposes for the article.” Sana pulls out her phone and starts recording a voice memo, then shoots me a quick, apologetic smirk. “Humor me.”

I shrug, swiping to answer the phone and pressing the speaker button. Griffin doesn’t even wait a beat before launching into what appears to be a very prepared spiel. “I know you’re angry with me right now, but you know I did that special for you, right? For Tea Tide. So you could keep getting more business.”

“Oh?” I say, turning to Sana, both of our eyebrows rising immediately.

“If you’d just let me explain instead of running off like that, you’d know I was doing it for your own good,” says Griffin. “They want you to be on the next season of the show, you know.”

Sana has to shove her face into the crook of her elbow to muffle her laugh. I keep talking, if only so Sana’s curiosity is sated. Considering all the help she’s put into Tea Tide, I owe her a lot more than that.

“I’ve had such a lovely time on it, how tempting,” I say.

“Look—you can believe me or not.” Griffin lets out a performative breath. “But I care about you, June. More than Levi with his stupid fake dating thing, dragging you along the exact same way he did in high school.”

I know he’s digging at the bottom of the barrel now, because never once in our relationship did he acknowledge the clear crushes Levi and I had on each other in high school. He must really be willing to throw his pride into the wringer if he’s copping to it now.

“And we had a good thing going, June,” Griffin persists. “We still do, if… I mean. If you’re open to it.”

Sana mouths words that I suspect are The audacity! Of this man!!! as I lean toward the phone and say mildly, “And this sudden change of heart has nothing to do with the fact that the internet hates you for dragging me through the mud again?”

I didn’t bother checking myself, but Sana has gleefully filled my inbox with tweets and articles over the past two weeks. After the initial shock of the interview, the narrative shifted out from under Griffin pretty fast—my favorite commentary ranged from literally why can’t he leave crying girl alone?? let her fake date that hot piece of ass in peace????? to pretty sure griffin would step on god’s face to get more attention. It didn’t stop me and Levi from getting heat, but watching Griffin’s plan backfire made it a little easier to swallow, that’s for sure.

Griffin waits a moment to answer, and I can practically hear his teeth grinding through the phone. “Let them hate me. You’re the only one whose opinion matters.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” I say easily, “because I think you’re a joke.”

“June, I’m trying to tell you I love you,” says Griffin adamantly. “I always have, and I always will.”

It should sting that this is actually the first time Griffin’s ever said those words to me out loud, but all I want to do is laugh. Except then the realization clicks into place, and I’m not laughing—I’m straight up cackling.

“Oh my god,” I wheeze. “Oh my god. Lisel dumped you.”

There’s a telling beat of silence, and then Griffin says tightly, “We’re broken up.”

I look to Sana, who nods at me. Whatever she wanted out of this call, she must have gotten it.

I feel a strange kind of buoyancy then, knowing the next words I say to Griffin are going to be the last. “I’m hanging up now,” I tell him. “Good luck with your life.”

The instant the phone disconnects, Sana and I both burst into hysterics, falling into each other and laughing so hard that every head in the commercial kitchen swivels around to look at us.

“That was priceless,” says Sana, tapping the button on her phone to stop the recording.

“And will live forever in infamy now,” I say as she saves the file. “Are you going to sell that to the highest bidder?”

“God, the temptation. We could buy so much Taco Bell with that money. But no.” She shifts on her stool. “Honesty hour. This piece I’m trying to write and pitch for Fizzle—it’s about gaslighting in millennial relationships, using Griffin as the peg. I’ve been interviewing psychologists and looking at the dynamics of other internet-adjacent couples in public breakups and how the media coverage shifted public opinion. It’s a whole deep dive.”

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