Page 25

Sam

Eden holds me against her chest, rocking me as the tears slide down my cheeks.

I haven’t stopped crying. Hours have passed with us in the same position.

She leans against the wall to support our weight, and I move with her, gripping the comforter between my fingers.

My chest hurts from crying. I’ve rubbed my eyes raw from blotting the tears. But I brought this upon myself.

I should have told Tucker when I had the chance. There were plenty of times to reveal the truth to him.

“He called me trash,” I mutter, my voice muffled by tears.

I’ve replayed the same thing repeatedly for the last hour. It was the meanest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“You’re not trash, Sam.” Eden cradles my head and shushes me. “Just let it all out. Forget about what he said. He’ll get over it.”

“He hates me,” I whine. “He will never talk to me. And how can I blame him?”

“He didn’t get expelled. None of his friends got in trouble for anything in those posts. He can’t be mad forever. If he loves you, he will forgive you.”

“I doubt it,” I shoot back. “You should have seen the look in his eyes.”

“Give him some time. What would you do if you found out he did the same thing to you?”

I rub beneath my eyes and lean back against the wall next to Eden.

“Would you stop talking to him?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.”

“You love him.”

“Yes.”

“So, you would forgive him at some point.” She flashes a closed-mouth smile. “Tucker will, too. But give him space.”

“I only called him once.”

“And sent him five text messages.”

I sigh and slump against the wall. “Okay, I see your point. I’m a loser chasing after a man who doesn’t want her.”

She chuckles. “No, that’s not what I said at all.”

“It’s how I feel.”

“Just calm down.” Eden sits in the center of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She holds her palm to me, and I place my hand in hers. “Everything will be okay. Now, take a deep breath and let it out.”

I do as she says, instantly feeling better with each breath.

Eden always centers me when I’m lost and need her help.

Whenever I had a panic attack freshman year, she knew how to soothe me.

I was a mess when I first came to Strickland University.

The financial stress was killing me. So was supporting my father.

Not until Eden helped me heal was I able to focus and clear my head. She gets me. No one has ever understood me the way she does.

“What if I out myself?”

Eden shoots me a worried glance. “No, don’t even think about it. If you tell everyone on campus, you’ve been spying on them… That we’ve been spying on them… That won’t make this go away.”

“What else can I do to make it right?”

“Nothing,” she hisses. “Time is your friend. Let Tucker figure out his feelings about you before you do something stupid and ruin your life.”

“I wouldn’t implicate you,” I assure her.

“I don’t care about that. You will become a social pariah if you admit to feeding info to The Queen. We have one month until graduation. If Tucker never forgives you, you can walk away next month and never deal with him again.”

“But he’s my student. I’ll see him in class on Monday.”

“You can make it four weeks. Ignore him. Focus on the other students in the class.”

“I hope I don’t lose my job over this.”

“Professor Frazier won’t find out unless Tucker rats on you.”

“Tucker wouldn’t do that to me. He knows how much I need the money.”

Eden squeezes my shoulder, her fingers digging into my back. “How about we get a brownie sundae to take your mind off Tucker?”

I smile, my stomach rumbling at the thought of a brownie smothered in hot fudge and ice cream. “Sounds good.”

After spending the weekend without Tucker, I sit behind the long desk in front of the classroom, desperate to see him, focusing on the door at the back of the room.

I miss him so much my insides hurt. Every bone in my body aches from the loss.

I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, depressed out of my mind and sick with guilt.

I wait an extra minute for Tucker to enter the room. He still hasn’t shown up for class. What is he doing? I can’t believe he will ruin the B he’s earned.

Gripping the podium, Professor Frazier turns to look at me. “Are you forgetting something?”

I consider his question for a second and then realize he means I haven’t locked the door. He’s such a stickler about lateness. Tucker’s already broken the rule once. I will have to take points off his grade for missing class, making him hate me more.

I rush up the aisle, ready to latch the door, when someone tugs from the other side. The sheer force of their power knocks me back a few steps—it’s Tucker. His spiky blond hair is a mess, sticking up from sleep. He never looks this disheveled, his clothes wrinkled as if he slept in them.

Our eyes meet for a split second. There’s so much pain and anger behind his watery blue irises. I contemplate allowing him into the room. He knows the drill. His eyes beg me, breaking my willpower down, but Professor Frazier isn’t having it.

“Shut the door, Samantha,” he booms from the front of the room. “No exceptions.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Come by the office later, and I’ll see what I can do.”

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I don’t want any special favors from you.”

There’s so much disdain in his tone. I can’t believe this is the man who told me he loved me last week.

I sit through class, going through the motions, unable to function properly. My heart aches with regret. Tucker looked even angrier than when he first found out. Our time apart hasn’t thawed him one bit.

I missed his last big hockey game. I read online that Tucker and his team are about to play in the Frozen Four Semifinals. New York is close enough that I can take the train to watch him play. Our current situation calls for a grand gesture. I don’t know how to show him I care and am sorry.