Page 101 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
My phone pings with yet another notification, probably another comment on the video that's going viral on campus social media. I haven't checked, but according to a grim-faced Cameron, who brought me aspirin earlier, someone recorded Ethan breaking up with me and posted it online. Perfect. Now, all this is public entertainment.
Dragging myself out of bed, I wince at the movement. A shower helps a little, washing away the stale smell of whiskey, but doing nothing for the hollow ache in my chest. Pulling on jeans and a hoodie, I don't bother with my usual care in getting dressed. What's the point?
Downstairs, the house is surprisingly quiet. Drew's note on the kitchen counter explains that most of the guys are in class, but Gavin and James are "working on something important" upstairs.
I don't have the energy to look for them. Instead, I grabmy keys and head outside, desperate for coffee and a change of scenery. The crisp November air clears my head a bit as I walk to Beans & Books, the coffee shop just off campus, where Ethan and I like to study together.
It's a mistake coming here, too many memories of Ethan laughing across the table, his nose scrunched up as he tried to pronounce complicated medical terms, his fingers brushing mine as he passed me half of his muffin. But I can't face the dining hall or any other public space on campus where people might recognize me from the video.
The coffee shop is busy but not packed. Ordering a large black coffee, no fancy drinks today, and find a table in the corner, hoping to remain anonymous. It works for approximately three minutes.
"Oh my god, that's him," a girl whispers loudly at the next table, not bothering to lower her voice enough. "The frat guy from the video."
Her friend leans closer. "I heard he was cheating the whole time. My roommate's in Theta Pi Nu with Cher, and she said they never really broke up."
"That's so messed up. Did you see that nursing student's face? He looked destroyed."
"I know, right? Men are trash."
Holding my coffee cup tight, my eyes are locked on the table.Just ignore them. Don't cause trouble. Don't make things even worse.
"Personally, I think they're both hot," a third voice joins in. "But cheating is such a dick move."
I'm considering leaving when a shadow falls across my table. I look up, half expecting more gawkers, but instead find Cher standing there, a concernedexpression on her face.
"Tyler," she says softly. "I saw what happened. Are you okay?"
For a moment, I'm too surprised to respond. After weeks of her aggressive pursuit and manipulation, this sudden concern feels jarring.
"What do you want, Cher?" The question finally comes out, keeping my voice low.
"Can I sit?" She doesn't wait for permission, sliding into the chair across from me. "I just wanted to check on you. Everyone's talking about... what happened."
"I'm sure they are," I say flatly. "And I'm sure you're devastated by the rumours."
She has the grace to look slightly abashed. "I know you probably think I had something to do with this, but I didn't. I mean, yes, I was jealous, but I would never want to see you hurt like this."
Looking at her face, I try to spot if she's lying. She seems honest enough, but something doesn't feel right. Maybe it's remembering how she smiled when Ethan left, or maybe I'm finally seeing past the act she's been putting on for years.
"Those photos were fake," Each word hits with deliberate force. "I never kissed you at that party. I never took you upstairs. It didn't happen."
"I know," she says, reaching across the table to place her hand on mine. Every muscle fights the urge to pull away. "Someone's trying to cause trouble. It's awful."
Two girls from her sorority walk past our table, and one of them snorts. "Look who's crawling back," she mutters, not quite under her breath.
Cher's face flushes, but she keeps her eyes locked on me like nothing happened. Something about her reaction nags at me, but before I can think about it, she's talking again.
"Is it?" The challenge is out there, and I watch herreaction carefully. "Because you've been pretty clear about wanting to break us up."
I was wrong," she admits, her voice soft and sorry, but there's something tighter around her eyes now. "I was hurt that you moved on so fast, and to someone so... not like me. But seeing you this upset?" She shakes her head. "I never wanted that, Tyler. You have to believe me."
Part of me wants to believe her. We dated for months, and I once thought I might love her. But something in my gut is screaming that this sympathy act is just that, an act.
"You've been talking to my mother," my eyes search her face.
She hesitates, just for a millisecond. "She called me a few times. She was worried about you."
"And I bet you were very reassuring," The words come out bone dry.
