The Breakup Artist (11 page)

I took my usual spot by myself and ripped open the shiny granola bar wrapper. Just looking at the thing made me feel sick to my stomach and so I just held onto it while I thought, letting my hands get sticky as my body temperature melted the sugary syrup. How had everything gotten so far off track so quickly? If it weren’t for David and his little surprise attack, everything would be just fine.

“You’re safe on both clients but this is the last time I can promise not to completely ruin everything,” said an all-too- familiar voice. I looked up to see David staring down at me.

“Excuse me?” I asked, with as much venom in my voice as I could muster.

“Blane already has a new girlfriend, and Claire broke up with me a few minutes ago.” I blinked up at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. My clients had been taken care of, which meant that I hadn’t failed, but this boy was still threatening to ruin my career. When I really looked closely at David to size up how much of a threat he posed, I noticed that he had completely changed. He was no longer wearing his jock attire, but a black T-shirt and jeans. Even his hair seemed to be a bit messier as it hung in his eyes. It was almost as if this boy were doing my job in exact reverse. He even dressed to fit the part he was playing.

So this whole thing was real. He knew where I came when I wasn’t working. He knew that my wardrobe matched my clients’. He knew everything. So what had the date been about? Was he trying to get some great confession out of me? And had the purpose of the kiss been to simply make me doubt my career choice? Or maybe the kiss was just a perk for him for his year of hard work. I scowled at him now and stood up so we were almost equal, though he was a bit taller than me, even in the heels. I had to remember to keep my emotions under control. If he knew the kiss was still bothering me so much, then he would think he had won. He’d think he had some power over me. With this in mind, I pushed back any feelings that short, intimate experience had brought on and set my jaw stubbornly.

“Listen. I don’t take kindly to threats. If you don’t like my business, that’s not my problem. And quite frankly, how I choose to make money is none of your business, so what gives you the right to come in here and screw with everything?” I felt like I’d burst into flames at any moment with the fiery heat of the anger I was feeling. At first my blow up had been about pride and fear of losing my job, but now that I had taken a moment to step back and really assess the situation, I could see that David was pulling rank where he had none.

“Amelia, the well-being of others is everyone’s business,” he answered calmly. What was he now, the guardian angel of high school flings? I’d had enough of this boy.

“Yeah, David, thanks for the infomercial, but I don’t have to listen to this.” I began walking away when he yelled out to me again.

“I don’t want things to get messy. If you’ll just stop this, I won’t bother you anymore. But if you take on more clients I’ll be forced to interject. Today was nothing,” he added as an afterthought. I turned around and walked back to him, not quite ready to give up the fight yet.

“Why do you care so much? None of this has anything to do with you. I don’t understand why you’re making this into such a big deal. It’s just high school.” I stared at him, waiting for an answer because frankly, I was curious to know why a career choice that had nothing to do with him would be so offensive.

“Honestly?” he asked.

“Obviously,” I answered snidely.

“I’d started hearing about you from friends. They had all been in the same situation and didn’t realize until later that they had been dumped by proxy.” He gave me a reproachful look here but I said nothing, so he went on. “Once I realized that all of these different people were talking about the same girl, I decided to track you down. At first I was offended for my friends that they hadn’t been given an explanation for the relationship termination from the horse’s mouth, but after I watched you for a while I became . . . fascinated.”

His brows came together in a hard line and the same look of confusion that I’d seen on the doorstep returned. I gave a small shiver as flashbacks of Saturday night’s little scene replayed in my mind. Yet again, I had to remind myself to focus.

“Why would someone dedicate their time in high school to doing the one thing people in high school are desperate to avoid? And then I thought that surely you were doing it for some outrageous price.” I looked down at this, feeling a bit guilty that he knew I had been paid to break up with him. It must have been an awkward thing to find out.

“But fifty dollars, Amelia?” He sounded almost disappointed. “If you’re going to be such a sleaze bag, at least charge more.”

Whoa, I must have missed something in that conversation. I tried to quickly replay everything he’d just said but couldn’t seem to find where he suddenly thought I was the one being ripped off.

“I thought you didn’t like how I made money,” I hurriedly pointed out.

“I don’t like it or condone it in any way, but if you’re going to sell your soul, at least make sure the devil isn’t ripping you off.” He said this all so matter-of-factly that I was beginning to wonder if he was actually a breakup artist also and he was just trying to scare me out of his territory. It wasn’t so hard to believe.

“Anyway, we’re digressing. What I’m trying to say is that I want to help you,” he concluded, as if that statement made all the sense in the world.

“By destroying my one way of paying for college?” I asked sarcastically.

“Not your business. I want to burn your business to the ground. And I will. I want to help
you
.” For some odd reason he thought putting the emphasis on different words made his point more clear. He might as well just emphasize every word for all the difference it made. I shook my head at him, showing that I still wasn’t following whatever it was he was trying to say. He hesitated for a moment, which I found scary. Mr. Big Mouth didn’t know how to put whatever it was he was trying to express into a fully formed sentence. “Are your parents still together?” he asked finally.

I let out a deep sigh of annoyance. So that’s where this was going. He figured that I must be some poor, emotionally scarred girl who was so messed up inside that the only way she could comfort herself was by ruining other people’s relationships. That had to make perfect sense, right? Because who would actually do my line of work if they weren’t some kind of sadist?

“This has nothing to do with my parents,” I said darkly, implying that he should simply drop it before I shoved my granola bar down his throat. He nodded his head slowly in a superior way that made me sick. He thought he’d really hit something now. I wondered secretly if he had some sort of timer going so that he could charge me by the minute for this psychology session. “My home life, like my job, is none of your business. So back off.” I glared at him, my blue eyes burning holes into his green ones for as long as I could without blinking. He went longer. Of course. Anything that could possibly be annoying, this boy could do.

“Amelia, I want to help you get over whatever it is,” he began, before I silenced him with a raise of my hand.

“I’m not a news story, David. I’m really sorry you need fuel for your writing, but it’s not me.” And with that I left for class, even though I still had a good ten minutes before the bell rang. I must admit though, the look of shock on his face as I walked away actually made the whole argument worth it. I had no idea why he was so surprised by my words, but honestly, right at that moment, I didn’t care.

I knew David would probably try to follow me to class so I went the one place I could—the girl’s bathroom. Once I was locked safely in a stall, I sat on the tank of the toilet and let my forehead rest on my knees as a hot tear slid down my cheek.

I’d been asked by many school counselors how I felt about my father disappearing. Obviously it wasn’t a big deal to me, but none of them seemed to believe that. They always told me it had to have some sort of deep psychological impact on my life that would manifest itself unconsciously in my actions, and I always waved away their suspicions with a laugh. Yet here David was, making—what I’m sure he thought—was a pretty obvious connection. A girl who ends relationships as a job must have divorced parents who don’t have enough time to pay attention to her. This was simply a way of getting some attention. At least that’s what he thought.

Of course I’d never ruled out the possibility that my odd choice in hobbies could have something to do with my father walking out on us, but it wasn’t like I felt like a neglected child. I was fiercely independent and didn’t need anyone else in my life telling me what I should do. It wasn’t a hard concept to figure out, and yet people were always trying to analyze me and tell me how I felt. Shouldn’t I know how I feel better than a complete stranger? There’s nothing I hate more than people who think they know me because of one short interaction. In reality, there isn’t a “me” to know. There’s always only what the clients needed, and there’s nothing more to my story.

☼☼☼

Biology was the same as it ever was. We learned about things that were interesting but difficult to understand, which meant that half of the class was snoring within the first five minutes of lecture. I tapped my foot nervously all through the genetic code as my teacher pointed to different graphs and illustrations. I couldn’t seem to focus all of my nervous energy. David had made it pretty clear that he planned on ruining my career if I kept taking on clients. That was a frightening prospect after the little demonstration of his effectiveness with Blane, though the fact that everything seemed to work out fine with Blane did give me some hope. The breakup actually seemed to go better after David’s interference. Not only was I able to lure Blane away from Lexi, but I didn’t have to worry about him pursuing me now that he thought I had a boyfriend. If it weren’t for David’s stubborn insistence that I was a horrible person for breaking people up, we could’ve started a pretty effective business together.

I stored that thought away for later consideration, even though it was a moot point. What I really needed to focus on right now was how to get David off my back. I refused to transfer my business to another school just because of some irksome boy. No, this simply had to be handled delicately. Luckily for me I had finished up all of my clients, so I didn’t need to worry about the threat too much for now. I’d just have to be worried once Valentine’s Day rolled around, or, more specifically, the day after Valentine’s Day.

Amazingly enough we hadn’t been given any biology homework, and so, with my spirits slightly higher, I made my way to my locker to drop off my book. I figured David would be off ruining someone else’s life with his self-righteous psychobabble, so I didn’t need to worry about him popping out of any corners. This didn’t stop paranoid thoughts from creeping into my mind, though. If it weren’t for the long brown hair and obviously feminine figure looming near my locker, I would have run in the other direction, swearing it was David.

I approached cautiously, fully aware that this was probably a potential client, which meant that my new little stalker wouldn’t be happy. I looked over my shoulder self-consciously, as if expecting to see him standing there, but there were no bright green eyes in the swarm of students rushing to get home and away from the watchful gaze of teachers. I approached the brunette, noting with a touch of annoyance that I’d be dying my hair for the third time in only three weeks.

“Hi,” I said, forcing an anxious smile onto my face. The girl smiled back sweetly, her green eyes instantly reminding me of the source of my unease. “How can I help you?” I asked, slipping easily into my professional tone.

“I heard you . . . help people? With awkward situations?” Her voice was timid, and I got the feeling that this whole idea made her nervous. I definitely couldn’t imagine this girl breaking up with anyone herself—she was just too nice. This meant I’d be helping her, so, despite what David thought, I was a good person.

“Yes, I break up with people,” I said matter-of-factly, since I was pretty sure she could never spit the sentence out. “For a small fee,” I added hastily. I didn’t enjoy taking money from people, but I wasn’t putting myself through this for fun. She blushed slightly at my words, a pronounced pink that I’d bet her boyfriend thought was adorable.

“Oh, of course. How much is it?” She was just so soft-spoken and polite, it almost hurt to tell her my fee. I thought it might break the glass bubble surrounding her.

“Fifty,” I remarked with another look around to make sure David wasn’t lurking in a corner. She balked a little at the price but quickly rearranged her expression into one of neutrality.

“That’s fine. So how exactly do we do this?”

I exhaled, not wanting to deal with this when I was in such a state of panic. I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and quickly scribbled my email address onto it. I thrust the paper at her, beginning to feel a bit impatient that I wasn’t already in my car on my way home. Safe.

“Send me this boy’s name, age, three points of interest, and the date you need the job finished by. I’ll also need your contact information in case there are any questions I may have about the boy.” I said this all quickly and stiffly, as if I had memorized it long ago and it was just something I recited from time to time. “Oh, and a picture so I know what he looks like.” The girl nodded shyly and I looked her up and down, memorizing her style and mannerisms quickly so that I’d know exactly what I’d be working on for the next few days.