Chapter 12

Julia

The ball that night was everything the Valentine’s Day dance should have been but wasn’t. By that I mean, it was insanely romantic. Or at least, it started off that way.

No one really dressed up for the ball, it was just called that because—well, because we were a bunch of geeks. I wore a simple black dress and answered the door on the first knock.

Matt was wearing the same suit from the night before but with a button-down shirt and without the slicked hair.

He looked hot. And sexy. And every other word that none of my friends from Grover High would ever have thought to use to describe Matt Cartwright.

But then again, they’d never seen him in a suit. They’d also never seen him smiling—not this sexy, adorable grin.

Maybe they’d never seen him at all.

That thought took me back for a moment and I blinked up at him. I’d been so sure that Matt was the judgmental one here, but maybe I was no different.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

I gasped with delight when he pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Are you ready?”

“Let me just grab a purse.” I met him in the hallway and took his proffered arm as we walked to the elevator.

“Who knew you were such a gentleman?” I teased.

He shook his head. “Not me, that’s for sure.” He leaned over and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Margo and Suzie.”

I laughed and was rewarded with a grin that made my heart leap. We met up with Thea and my friends in the lobby and when we entered the ballroom, it felt almost impossibly like a high school dance—probably because the only people who typically came to this all-ages party were the people who weren’t old enough to go to the twenty-one and over parties. But I didn’t care—I didn’t come to these events to drink; I came to dance and hang out with my friends.

And that was precisely what we did. I think Matt got the fact that my time with Thea and Marnie and the others was precious—I rarely got to see them throughout the year—and he was supremely cool about us doing the group hang thing.

In a way it was a relief. I was still raw after that heart-to-heart this afternoon, not to mention the fact that I felt like I was holding something back. I mean, he probably wouldn’t care all that much about the gossip back home, right?

Still, I’d eventually checked Taylor’s text and it was all about how much of a power trip Cara was on, how she was more insufferable now than ever.

The subtext? They wanted me back.

I couldn’t say I hadn’t seen this coming. I might have been good about smiling my way through the politics of high school cliques and rivalries, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention. Of course I was. Maybe I ought to have been pursuing a degree in politics when I went off to college rather than my planned English Lit degree. I understood politics, and after years of practice, I could maneuver the social minefield at Grover High in my sleep.

So yeah, I’d seen this coming. The reason Cara and I worked as friends—or frenemies, rather—was because we balanced one another out in a weird sort of way. I was the nice one, she was the witch. She kept the others from trying to take the alpha spot and I kept everyone appeased.

Did that sound callous? I supposed it was. But that was the way the world worked, to pretend otherwise was naïve.

Did I think everything would be peachy keen when I got home? No. But did I think I could reclaim my position within my circle of friends if I wanted it?

No doubt.

That wasn’t cockiness speaking, just confidence. One didn’t spend a lifetime cultivating an image for nothing, right? If I’d gone and overreacted before leaving town—if I’d burst into tears or gotten into a fight with Cara, then this whole thing would be blown even further out of proportion. But I’d kept my chin up and my smile in place. My guess was, the girls in our group were already missing my presence, and the guys? Well, they’d go along with what their girlfriends told them.

Seeing that text should have been a relief. Life would go back to normal when I got home. I wrapped my arms tight around Matt’s neck as we danced to a ballad. The real question was…did I want to go back to normal?

“What are you thinking about?” Matt asked. This was the first time all night we’d been alone and the question caught me off guard. I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t want to ruin this night with talk of Taylor or Cara or Joel or Ryan or anyone other than me and Matt. I settled for a half-truth. “I’m thinking about how we have to go home tomorrow.”

His arms tightened around my waist.

“I’m thinking about Monday,” I added.

He nodded. I waited for him to say something or ask another question, and when he didn’t, I was both relieved and unsettled. Much as I wanted to avoid the issue, I didn’t relish the idea of going back to Grover High without the two of us figuring out what was going on here.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

His lips twitched up a bit, but he didn’t look as happy as he’d looked all night. I had a hunch I knew what he was thinking about too…Monday.

“What do you think about helping me with my article?”

He shocked me so badly I stopped dancing entirely. “Excuse me?”

“For credit, obviously,” he continued. “I wouldn’t expect you to help me for no credit.”

I stared up at him. Neither of us were dancing anymore. “You want me to help you with an article about comics.”

“Correct.” He was definitely smirking now at my inability to comprehend. I gave my head a little shake. “But why?”

“Because you know the topic better than I do, and the angle I’m taking…” He shrugged. “Well, I think it’s fitting that you be a part of it.”

“What’s your angle?” I asked.

His smirk turned mischievous, and it made my belly clench with awareness. Who on earth would have ever thought that Matt Cartwright was a secret hottie?

Not Cara, or Taylor, or any of my friends.

There was that reality again, threatening to ruin what had been a perfect night—a perfect weekend.

“Nope,” he said. “Not telling you a thing unless you agree to help. Otherwise, it’s a surprise.”

“I’d just have to wait and read it like all the common folk, huh?” I teased. “Is that the thanks I get for showing you the ropes?”

His arms tightened around me. “Not if you agree to work with me on the article.”

I narrowed my eyes as I studied him. “You’re just hoping I’ll be a one-woman reference desk,” I teased.

His smile was impossibly sweet. “Maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to keep you close.”

My heart stopped. Here it was, the topic I’d been dreading.

Monday.

Reality.

What were we when we returned to Grover High?

“Hey,” he said, leaning down to kiss my nose. “Don’t go into panic mode on me. I didn’t mean to make you run.”

“I didn’t run.”

“You want to.”

Shoot. He was right. I totally wanted to run. At what point did this guy come to know me so well? Intimacy of any sort made me antsy, and this?

Well, this was as intimate as it got.

I might’ve hooked up with ex-boyfriends in the past, but none had ever gotten this close. None had ever looked at me the way Matt was looking at me right now. “I don’t want to push you,” Matt said. “I want us to just enjoy our time while we have it.”

I felt a flicker of something unpleasant, but I forced a laugh. “You make it sound like this is the last time we’re going to see each other.”

His gaze turned inscrutable and his hands moved against my back, not pulling me closer—I couldn’t get any closer, to be honest—but like he was soothing me. That unpleasant feeling started to spread. This felt way too much like a goodbye, and I hated that.

“We go to the same school,” I said, still aiming for a teasing tone but falling short. “This isn’t goodbye.”

He nodded but he didn’t say anything and irritation had me pushing against his chest a little, needing some room so I could figure out what was going on here. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.” Ugh, I hated how peevish I sounded.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Just thinking,” he said.

I bit my lip to make myself stop, but it didn’t work. “About Monday?”

He didn’t answer. Again. But his eyes were warm and just a little sad and…I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I didn’t even know why, I just did. I hated emotional scenes and I wanted no part of this one.

But at the same time I couldn’t bring myself to drop it, either. I wanted to, but something inside me wouldn’t let it go. I couldn’t force another smile or laugh it off and change the topic. “Just because we’re going home doesn’t mean anything has to change.”

Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. Worse, I could hear it for the lie that it was.

He cringed a little and I knew he’d heard it too. “That’s a nice sentiment, Julia, but it would be naïve to think that nothing will change between us when we go home.”

I gnawed on my lower lip as I tried to find my sanity. It seemed to have disappeared at some point this weekend—pretty much ever since Matt Cartwright had kissed me.

I didn’t know what he saw as he stared down at me, but I caught a flicker of pity in his eyes along with the sadness. “We can still be friends.”

I nodded but my throat was too choked to speak. Friends. Was that what we were?

He forced a smile that I had no doubt was for my benefit as he gave me a playful little squeeze. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You said it yourself, this isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you at lunch on Monday, right?”

I nodded, but even as I did, I wondered how long I’d be in cafeteria exile. Probably not all that long, really. And if my friends wanted me back?

Who cared what they wanted? I didn’t want to go back to playing their games and smiling at them all as if they hadn’t hurt me. Come Monday, nothing had changed even if Taylor and the others did miss me.

I twisted slightly, tugging against his embrace. “Is this because of my friends?” I said. “Is it because you don’t like the people I hang out with? Because they’re not my friends anymore, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember.”

“So?” I said, pulling back more so I could see his face.

I didn’t like what I saw. There was that pity again, and maybe even judgment.

“What?” I demanded. I could tell that he was trying to be nice. He didn’t want to ruin our last night together.

Neither did I but I also couldn’t let this go. Something was clawing at my chest, dying to get out.

This wasn’t me. I didn’t do scenes, and I sure as heck didn’t cause a fight in the middle of my favorite dance of the year.

No one around us seemed to notice, not even when we gave up any pretense of dancing so we could stare at one another in a sort of silent standoff. “Write the article with me,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. “What?” He might as well have started spouting Greek for all that statement made sense to me. “Why are you talking about the article? I thought we were talking about us.”

Us. There it was. I’d acknowledged that there was an ‘us’ and that made the tension in the air grow exponentially. I was suffocating on that tension, and I turned on my heel to get off the dance floor.

I knew he’d follow. I wasn’t trying to run from him, just…oh, I didn’t know. Maybe I was running from myself. All I knew was, I needed air. I needed to breathe. I needed to figure out why I felt like running away from myself.

But first… I whirled around when we reached the same deserted hallway where we’d had our first kiss. Could that really have been only the night before? It seemed like this thing between us had been brewing for centuries. More than one weekend, at the very least.

When he reached my side, Matt wasted no time. He placed his hands on my arms and looked at me. Really looked at me. “Write the article with me.”

I blinked up at him. Yeah, no. It still made no sense to me. “Why would I do that?” I shook my head. “And why are you obsessing about it? I’m not going to help you with that article.”

“Why not?”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. Why not? “Why would I? Writing isn’t my thing, it’s yours. I’ll help you fact-check it if that’s what you want—”

“It’s not.” His jaw was tight, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes.

“Fine,” I said, flailing my arms helplessly. “Fine. If it means that much to you I’ll help you with the article, but I don’t want credit—”

“Why not?”

“I—I—” Giving my head a little shake, I planted my hands on my hips and glared at him. “What point are you trying to make here, Matt? Because I honestly don’t get it. Why are you so worried about whether or not I’ll help you with your article when I’m trying to figure out whether or not we have a future?”

His eyes grew sad, and I just knew I’d disappointed him again. Quite frankly, I was disappointing myself. I didn’t do hysterics, and I didn’t get overly emotional over a guy. I’d never even cried when Robert and I broke up last summer and we’d dated for nearly ages. So why was I on the verge of a meltdown over Matt Cartwright?

I took a deep breath and clenched my hands until my nails dug into my palm. I just had to breathe, and focus, and…smile. I forced my lips to curve upward and saw Matt flinch in response. “What are we even fighting about?” I asked with a little laugh that I didn’t feel.

“We’re not fighting,” Matt said, his tone bleak as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “If we were fighting you wouldn’t be smiling at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He shook his head in lieu of a response and I wanted to smack him for it. If he was going to insult me he could insult me already, I was tired of that judgy look. I was tired of not being good enough for this guy. “Look, I know you don’t like my friends, but—”

“It’s not about your friends,” he said quietly.

I swallowed because I hated that grim look in his eyes. Up until a week ago I didn’t know he had any other looks up his sleeve. I’d thought he was either unfailingly serious or snarky and judgmental. But now I knew better.

I threw my hands out wide. “Then what is this about?”

He didn’t answer right away and the urge to cry made me angry. I didn’t cry. Especially not in front of guys.

Anger was good. Anger was better than the cloying, choking pain that seemed to be rising up in my throat. I grasped onto the anger. “What is it, Matt? Are you afraid that I’ll go back to being popular again?” I arched my brows in a look that was nothing short of taunting. “Embarrassed to admit that you’re dating one of the dumb cheerleaders?”

“No.” His face screwed up in confusion and irritation. “That’s not it at all.”

I let out a snort of disbelief. I wasn’t as obtuse as everyone believed. I’d seen the way he and his friends looked at me. Sure, they’d been nice when I’d been an outcast, but when I’d been the queen bee of Grover High? I might as well have had the plague.

“You don’t like my friends,” I stated simply. “That’s it, right? That’s why you’re breaking up with me before we even leave this place?”

He jerked back like I’d struck him. “What? I’m not—Jules, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“No, of course not,” I said quickly. Words were tumbling out of me now in a way they never had before. They were quick and irrational and filled with all the pain I was feeling. “How could you break up with me when we were never even dating?” He reached for me but I took a step back. “This was just a…what? A weekend fling? We were just hooking up?”

His eyes had darkened with emotion. I realized distantly that he looked hot like this, too.

So not what I needed to be focusing on right now, not when he was clearly trying to break things off with me.

A rush of pain nearly knocked me off my feet as the realization hit me all over again. It was written all over him, in his eyes, in his body language. Being dumped by Ryan at the dance couldn’t begin to compare to the hurt of this rejection.

Because Ryan? He’d never known me. Not really. But Matt did.

I swallowed down tears as I met Matt’s gaze head on. To my horror, the tears I’d been holding back refused to be squelched any longer. My eyes brimmed with moisture, and that was just too humiliating. I was pathetic, crying over a guy who didn’t want me.

But even as I thought it, something in me rebelled. The anger was fading fast, replaced by pain, but there was something else there that wouldn’t let me walk away, not without trying.

“I like you.” It just…came out. Sad and high-pitched and breathy. Pathetic.

“Julia…” His voice was so low and gravelly, it was almost hard to hear. He took a step toward me but I backed away. I couldn’t handle it if he touched me right now while trying to break things off. I’d lose what little control I had left.

“This is about my friends at home, right?” I said, desperation egging me on even though I hated myself for being so melodramatic. So vulnerable.

“Are they your friends?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. He’d lose all respect for me if I went back to being BFFs with that group of vultures who’d just humiliated me and laughed at me for their entertainment.

I’d lose respect for myself if I went back and pretended nothing had changed. I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I won’t cause a big scene or anything but I’m not going back to that crowd.”

Something inside me resisted. Years had been spent building up that social cred, earning my head cheerleader spot, and being looked up to. Admired, even. And yet there was nothing for it but to spend the second half of my senior year friendless. I took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “So, what do you say? Can we be friends?”

I wanted more. I wanted so much more. But right now, I’d have settled for a nice friendly punch to the arm as long as it came with the reassurance that this wasn’t the end.

But the easy smile, the relieved ‘yeah, sure, let’s be friends’ speech…that didn’t happen. He hesitated and I could see the regret, maybe even anguish.

I sucked in air but it didn’t reach my head.

He didn’t even want to be my friend. Now that stung. I took a step back.

Matt reached out to stop me but dropped his hand. “I’m making a mess of this, Julia. Just, let me explain.”

“Explain what?” I asked, the edge returning to my voice, making it shrill. “You don’t want to be with me, and you don’t want to be friends with me.” I shrugged, as if I wasn’t utterly crushed. “I get it. I do. You’ve made your feelings about me and my friends exceedingly clear.” And yet, even as I said it, I felt the urge to fight him on it again, to fight for us, even though I knew it was in vain. “But I’m telling you, Matt. I’m not going to go back to my old crowd. At least, not like before.” I took a half step toward him, unable to stop even though I knew I was embarrassing myself. “I know you don’t like my friends but—”

He thrust a hand through his hair and let out a short groan of frustration. “Jules, it’s not that I don’t like your friends, it’s that I don’t like—” He stopped.

He froze.

We both did.

Because even though he didn’t finish the sentence, I knew exactly what he’d been about to say. It’s that I don’t like…you.

He looked almost as dumbstruck as I felt, and honestly if I hadn’t been so hurt, I would have laughed at his comically shocked expression. Maybe it was the shock, but I found myself envisioning this moment as another scene from that same comic.

This would have been a hilarious image, him with his mouth hanging open and his eyes so wide behind those glasses. Me standing there looking just as horrified and probably pale. It definitely felt like the blood had fled my body and had been replaced by ice water.

The moment seemed frozen in time, but really it probably only lasted a heartbeat. Then reflexes took over and I did what I’d wanted to do for a while now.

I ran away.