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chapter nineteen

“One of my many rules of dating is this: It’s not about you. I know, I know, it feels like it’s about you, but if you enter a date purely focused on yourself? You’re going to miss the person sipping wine across from you. You’re allowed five minutes to think about every insecure thing in your arsenal, the rest of the time is focused on making the other person comfortable. I guarantee that once they see what you’re doing — they’ll mimic it. That’s what humans do, morons.”

~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons

Jason

My palms were sweaty.

I knew exactly what had been next.

So did she.

The first kiss.

The beginning of the end, when I’d crossed a line without asking, and she’d thankfully responded the same way. We’d been best friends up until that point. So many stolen glances between us, when we didn’t think anyone had been looking. Nobody had called us out on it, but we were getting closer, and it was getting harder not to react to the way she made me feel every time she was close. As it was, I knew that if I touched her, I’d forget all the reasons I was angry and just kiss her, drink her in, and lie to myself — tell myself that she wanted me, when really, this wasn’t about rekindling anything.

It was about ending it.

“Sort of feels like the end of an era, doesn’t it?” Maddy smiled up at me shyly. “Like when Friends ended.”

I grinned. “Wow, that’s a heavy comparison.”

She just shrugged and tugged her ball cap down so her eyes were a mere shadow. I hated when I couldn’t see people’s eyes. Maybe it was the cop in me, but I could tell a lot through eye contact, whether the person was open to giving it, or not.

And she wasn’t.

So closed off.

Both of us.

I felt the distance spread until I was sick with it.

“Um…” she shoved her hands in her pockets, “…I forget how this started.”

“Bullshit.” I called her bluff, then took a step toward her and flicked her hat back so I could see her deep blue eyes. What I saw reflected in their depths gave me pause.

Fear.

Well, that made two of us.

I just wasn’t sure what she had to be afraid of, when she was the one who’d left; she was the one who’d betrayed me.

So, there we stood.

The air thick with her fear.

My anger.

And the smell of fresh-cut grass, as the sprinklers flicked on a few feet away from us. The shadow of the bleachers above hid us from the sun. We’d joked about how it cloaked us from the teachers when it was absolute shit; they’d seen everything. They just hadn’t cared — well, that, and they hadn’t been able to control us when we were together.

We’d been the unstoppable duo.

Until Maddy put a stop to it.

My partner in crime.

The love of my life.