Page 51 of One Spicy Summer

Rygaard.

Alive.

Well.

Tongue-kissing some girl at what looks like his frat house.

Welcome to Alpha Phi Delta,some blond, surfer dude is saying in the video,you have selected a pledge from Gamma Phi Beta to be your companion for tonight, or maybe the rest of your life.

The camera zooms right back in on Ry and the girl, and it’s obvious whoever’s recordingwantedme to see this.

The world tilts sideways. I drop Agatha’s phone and sprint for the bathroom.

I don't know how long I’m hunched over the toilet, vomiting until there’s nothing left.

Agatha kneels beside me, rubbing my back. “Baby girl, you okay?” she whispers.

No. No, I’m not. “I just… watched the love of my life kiss someone else," I choke out. "How could he do this?”

Agatha’s face crumples. “Prez, I’m so sorry.”

“How? How could he forget everything we’ve shared?” My voice cracks. “How can he just throw it all away forher?”

She pulls me into a hug. “My cousin pledged a sorority and sent me that video. It's part of the pledging crap, some girls have to pledge to be someone’s 'companion' for the night.” Her voice drips with disgust. “If that’s what they expect from me, they can kiss my ass.”

But that doesn’t make it better. That doesn't undo what I saw. Doesn’t erase the look on Rygaard’s face.

“Come on,” she says softly. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to my house, pig out, and binge watch tv until our eyeballs bleed.”

“Okay,” I whisper, letting her guide me away.

But I can’t stop the thought from circling, eating me alive:How do you live when the other half of your heart doesn't want you anymore?

Another week passes.

Still no word from Rygaard.

Still radio silence from Rafe.

Still eating my feelings like it's my full-time job, and now it’s starting to show.

“Mademoiselle Collins, please report to my office after class.” Madame Dupanchane’s voice cuts through the room like a whip.

“Somebody’s in trouble,” a girl sing-songs, setting the whole class off.Whatever.

I pack up my things, trudging down the hallway for my walk of shame. Standing outside her door, I pace like a lunatic, gnawing my nails, wearing a hole in the ugly-ass carpet.

The door swings open so fast I almost trip. “Are you planning to pace all day, or would you like to come in?” Madame asks, irritation written all over her face.

I scramble inside and flop into the chair across from her desk. Clearing my throat, I ask, “You, uh, wanted to see me?”

She doesn’t waste time. “What’s going on at home?”

I blink at her. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve put on a little weight,” she says bluntly, perching on the edge of her desk. “You can talk to me.”

The unexpected kindness in her voice almost undoes me. But how do I explain this heartbreak? How do I admit my boyfriend basically ghosted me for another girl?

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