Page 95 of No One Else

Natalie

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SPRING BREAK COMESand goes, the time with my family and Carter’s one exhausting hour after another. My cheeks hurt from keeping a smile pasted on my face, one that feels so unnatural being there right now. But no one suspected anything, not even my mom, who I thought would pick up on my depression right away. Maybe I should change my major to acting.

I attended two cocktail parties Carter’s mother hosted, his cousin’s birthday dinner, as well as a photo op with his family for his dad’s senate campaign. The three of them pretended they were a happy family in front of the camera, but all went their separate ways once the photographer packed up his equipment. They’re certainly good at manipulating their public image. I could probably get some marketing tips from them. Image is everything.

It’s been three weeks since I broke up with Evan. The first few days were the hardest, avoiding him at all costs, catching his forlorn expression out of the corner of my eye at the gym or in class, unable to respond to his texts. But after that, he made it easy, dropping all communication.

It’s a good thing we finished our Marketing project so early in the semester, but we still have to get together one last time to discuss the presentation, which is... tomorrow.

I’ve been putting it off, hoping he would be the first to reach out about it, but I don’t know why I really expected that.

I wait till the end of my shift at the gym, hanging around in the back employee area until he’s done with his client a half hour later. I stand as soon as I spot him coming in, wiping the back of his neck off with a towel. “Hey,” I wave awkwardly, trying to get his attention before he veers into the guy’s changing area.

He stops and looks me up and down, no emotion crossing his face. He nods briefly, then makes like he’s going to continue on.

“We have our Marketing presentation tomorrow,” I remind him, my hands wringing together in front of me. I try to make them stop, but it’s like my body won’t listen to my brain.

He frowns down at me. “Figured you would just do it all,” he mutters, walking right past me.

Something about his utter dismissal sets my blood to boiling. “What, you can’t even talk to me?” I call out to his retreating form, stopping him in his tracks.

He turns back around, eyes flashing. “I don’t want to talk. We’ll do the presentation tomorrow and after that, we won’t have to interact again.” He scans the area and when he sees we’re alone says, “It’s too late to drop the class but I’m looking for another job.”

“No,” I exclaim, automatically reaching for him, but he’s too far away. “You can’t quit.” He needs this job. It pays too much for him to give it up.

“I can’t be around you anymore,” he admits, shaking his head. “It feels fresh every time I see you. What did you think would happen? We were just going to go back to being friends?”

“We did it before, at the beginning of the semester,” I insist, desperate to keep him close. I’ve been living on stolen glimpses of him, both here and in class.

“I was still in love with you then. I wanted to be near you in any way I could. But now... you ripped my heart out.” His voice is anguished, his eyes decades older, like I’ve aged him in just a matter of weeks.

I tremble, focusing on his words.I was in love with you then. As if he isn’t anymore. The tears fall, even though the realization that he no longer loves me shouldn’t really surprise me. Like he said, I broke his heart. I’m sure he’s realized by now my reasons for breaking up with him were completely bogus. They sounded terrible even as I uttered them.

Still, I’ve been holding onto the hope I’d magically find my way out of this, that we’d be together again soon. That he’d wait for me, like he did before. But why should he? He’s right. To him, we’re over. I clutch at my chest, the pain searing me.

A glimmer of something passes over his face, fists clenched, jaw set. I cross my arms over my stomach, trying to contain the sobs, wishing beyond hope he’ll come over and comfort me so I can soak up his presence one last time.

But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t mean to,” I choke out, needing him to understand.

“Then what did you mean?” He sounds tired, weary, and it snaps me back into focus. What am I doing? Giving him false hope?

“Nothing,” I tell him, stepping away, gathering control again. “I’ll do the majority of the presentation tomorrow and cue you in at a few spots you know well.”

He nods tightly and spins around, walking into the men’s locker room area, leaving me standing there. Alone.

***

ISUCK IT UP AND FINALLYjoin my friends for lunch the next day, having successfully avoided them for the last three weeks, first using the excuse of needing to study for midterms, then being out of town for Spring Break.

I haven’t said anything to any of them about breaking up with Evan, and especially not about getting back together with Carter.

I can’t explain the truth to them, for fear they’ll tell Luke. Charlotte and Samantha’s first loyalties are to him, not me. And if Luke knows... there’s no way he’d keep that from Evan. And if he knows, I can’t risk Carter finding out. Everything I’ve sacrificed will be for nothing.

“Hey, guys,” I call out weakly, approaching the table in the student center where all three of them are already eating.

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