The Heartbreakers (8 page)

Frowning, Alexia said, “Armadillo?”

“Yeah, they don't have very good eyesight. See, hang out with me a little more and you're bound to pick up facts about important things.”

“Such as animal sight?”

He smiled. “Right. Now, if you're ever running from an armadillo, you know to hide instead of run. He won't see you.”

Alexia followed him from behind the counter to the computer lab door in the library. “I hate to think of how tragically my life could have ended if I hadn't talked to you just now.”

“I can see the headline now, ‘Death by Armadillo.' Tragic, yes.”

“Benjamin,” Mrs. Halloway said, “off to class now before Ms. Fairweather marks you absent.”

“I'm going.” He tipped his head toward Alexia. “Later.”

“Bye.”

He opened the door to the computer lab and went inside. Alexia moved to the narrow, rectangular window on the door and watched him walk up to Ms. Fairweather. She readjusted
her glasses as she peered at him, then smiled and nodded. It seemed he was off the hook for being tardy. He left her desk and walked out of Alexia's view. She was about to turn away when he reappeared in the window and put a note up to the glass.

MS. FAIRWEATHER JUST ASKED ME TO MARRY HER. WHAT DO I SAY
?

He had this panicked look on his face.

Alexia laughed. She mouthed, “Tell her you're taken.”

He widened his eyes in mock exasperation. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she said, face beaming as if she actually had been crucial to his fake dilemma.

When he disappeared again from the window, Alexia went behind the library counter to get her instructions from Mrs. Halloway. The short, curly-haired librarian went through the computer and filing system. Alexia nodded when she was supposed to and said, “Okay.” “Sure.” Except every few minutes she'd look up at the computer lab door, hoping to see Ben in the window again.

Rule 3:
You must not write The Ex letters or text messages saying you miss him
.

Sydney typed in a text message to Drew on her phone:

where were u this weekend? y didn't u call? we need 2 talk. i miss u.

syd

xoxo

She hit the
SEND
button and flipped the phone closed, sliding it into the front pocket of her bag.

There, he couldn't ignore that, could he?

Beneath her desk, Sydney's knee bobbed up and down. She put her index finger to her lips and started to try and chew on the already nonexistent fingernail tip.

She felt like she was wasting time by sitting here in the middle of Creative Writing, listening to the old and deaf Mr. Simon drone on in his monotonous voice about their next writing assignment.

She thought the first day of a new class was supposed to be laid back while the teacher explained a few ground rules and passed out textbooks.

Of course, that sounded boring, too. Particularly when she had somewhere to be. Or rather, someone she needed to talk to. Drew was still MIA, though if she believed the witnesses, he was somewhere within the walls of Birch Falls High. The problem was, he was everywhere she wasn't.

So far they hadn't shared a single class, which was disappointing, considering they'd scheduled their classes together. Mrs. Hunt, the guidance counselor, promised she'd do her best to get them in the classes they chose.

But Sydney's first-hour trig was a bust, as was her second-hour study hall. At first she thought Drew was absent, but then she asked a few of his friends if they'd seen or talked to him. They all said yes, though they were adamant about not saying anything more, as if they knew something she didn't.

The rest of class dragged on. She hoped it wasn't going to continue like that for the rest of the semester. She actually liked writing, but Mr. Simon was ruining the experience. Probably he could make skydiving sound as interesting as watching paint dry.

When the bell rang, Sydney scooped up her things and hit the hallway at a fast pace, heading toward B hall where Drew's locker was. She waited for him to show, but within minutes the hallways thinned out as the students headed to their next classes. There was still no sign of Drew.

Then she spotted Craig Thierot rounding the corner up ahead. “Craig!” she called, jogging to meet him. “Hey, have you seen Drew?”

“Yup. I just talked to him in study hall.”

He had study hall fourth hour? What, did he purposely switch on her at the last minute?

“So, uh…” Uh, what! What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to fish for information without sounding like a petty girlfriend? Unfortunately, the talent for prying for information was a mystery to her. Kelly was better at that. Probably because she was so cute and bubbly. It was easy for her to sound casual while asking for information.

“Hey, Syd, I gotta jet before the bell rings,” Craig said. “I've already got a tardy today.” He started running off, but turned halfway. “Hey, I'm sorry, you know, about you and Drew. It's a bummer. You're a cool chick.” He winked. “Later.”

She froze in the middle of the hallway, stunned.

What did he mean by that? What was a bummer? Had Drew said something? Or more importantly, done something that she didn't know about?

The thought made her nauseous.

As the bell rang overhead, she rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door into the wall behind it. She went into a stall and slid the lock in place. Kneeling on the floor, her face over a toilet, she breathed in deeply, trying to quell the nausea.

When it subsided, she came out of the stall and sat on the metal bench along the wall. Was Craig serious? Or was he kidding around? It'd be just like him to try and start something between her and Drew. He was a jerk.

But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Drew's avoidance and Craig's comment meant one thing: They were done.

D-O-N-E.

But they couldn't be done! The last four days of Drew-silence had practically killed her. There was no way she could go another day. As it was, she felt like she was going to explode with anxiety at any minute.

Just as the tears started rolling down her face, her phone vibrated in her backpack. She scrambled for it. It was a text message from Drew.

we'll talk during lunch. lets meet at my truck after this hour.

drew

“That's it?” she muttered. There was no, “I love you.” No, “I miss you, too. This is a huge mess and I can't wait to see you.”

He was so cold and impersonal in the message that she hardly wanted to leave the bathroom, let alone talk with him at lunch. Maybe she should feign being sick and go home. Drew had always taken care of her when she was ill. And she did feel like vomiting.

But what if he didn't come over? And he spent another four days avoiding her? Four days might as well have been a year. She couldn't go another four days! And if she wasn't at school, then Nicole Robinson would take the opportunity to follow Drew around between classes and lunch…

Sydney scowled at the thought. No way was she going to let that happen. Drew was hers. He'd always been hers.

If he wanted to talk, then she'd talk, but she wasn't going to allow the conversation to end with them being broken up for real.

Sydney slipped into her black peacoat and buttoned it up to hide the hooded sweatshirt she'd stupidly put on today. She looked down at her gray Old Navy sweatpants and her scuffed charcoal Nikes. What had she been thinking this morning when she got dressed? She should have worn those Lucky Jeans her mom had bought her last fall. The ones that actually gave her a butt. She'd been so tired and depressed this morning that she hadn't felt like putting in much of an effort getting dressed.

Outside, the cloudy sky gave the day a gray cast. It was drab and dreary, matching her mood. She plunged her hands in the front pockets of her coat. Her breath puffed out in front of her in a white cloud.

At the first aisle of cars, she stopped and scanned the vehicles for Drew's truck. A couple ran past her toward a red car. The girl laughed at something the guy said. He smiled over the roof of the car as he fidgeted with the lock.

What wouldn't Sydney give to be that happy again? She could still turn back. If she didn't talk to Drew, were they still going to be done? If she avoided it, maybe it wouldn't happen.

But then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, electric blue eyes meeting hers.

“Drew.”

“Ready?” he said, keys jingling in his hand. He'd used gel in his hair today so that the front of it stuck up in a crooked spike. She hated it when he gelled it. Maybe he'd done it on purpose, as if to say he didn't care what her opinion was anymore.

“Yeah, I was just…looking for the truck.”

“Third row,” he said, and ambled off, the snow crunching beneath his Doc Martens. She hesitated, dread knotting her gut. She breathed in and put purpose into her step as she caught up with Drew.

He unlocked the passenger side door then went around to the driver's side. He had his glasses on before he slid in next to her and put the key in the ignition. He drove to Rocco's, a drive-through deli that probably survived on the income it made during Birch Falls High's lunch hour.

Through the front windows, Sydney could see several of the tables were full. There was a line at the front counter.

Drew pulled around the sand-colored brick building and stopped at the speaker box. Two more cars pulled up behind them, engines idling.

A female voice came through the speaker. “Welcome to Rocco's. What can I get for you?”

“A Turkey Lavish and a Diet Coke,” Drew said. He turned to Sydney. “What do you want?”

She shrugged. She wasn't very hungry, but if she refused food, Drew might think she was being dramatic. “The usual.”

He turned back to the speaker. “And a tuna sandwich with a Diet Coke.”

After paying for their food, Drew drove to the park where they usually spent their lunch hours. The playground in front of the parking lot was empty and iced over. The duck pond was frozen, too, and covered in snow. It was barely visible except for the slight dip in the landscaping.

Drew parked and let the truck idle, the heat blowing out through the vents.

“So,” he said, sliding his straw into his drink, “what did you want to talk about?”

“You asked me here,” she said, ripping off a tiny piece of her sandwich. She mashed it between her fingers then popped it in her mouth.

Drew let out a long breath through his nose before saying, “You texted me and said we needed to talk.” He took a big bite of his Lavish and got cream cheese on the corner of his mouth. “Will you get me a napkin?”

She checked in the white deli bag. Finding none, she popped open the glove box and dug inside. She always stuffed napkins in there for emergencies such as this. She pulled out a wad and handed them to Drew.

“Thanks,” he said around a mouthful of food. After wiping his mouth, he set his food down and sipped from his soda.

Sydney could feel his eyes on her as she picked at her sandwich. There was so much running through her mind, but she couldn't get anything past her lips. She wasn't one to pour her heart out—or ask questions she didn't want to hear the answers to. At the same time, her rational mind said she had to finalize this. Otherwise, it'd sit like a heavy weight on her shoulders. She hated leaving things unfinished.

“Are we broken up for real?” she finally asked, turning away from the fogged passenger window and to Drew. He pinned his eyes on her. She had the fleeting thought that, broken up, his eyes would be for someone else soon. He wasn't going to be single long. There was Nicole, of course, waiting on the sidelines to scoop him up. And about twenty other girls in the school.

Sydney couldn't let him get away.

“I'm sorry, Syd,” he said, shifting his gaze to the windshield and what was beyond it. She followed and watched a squirrel bounce across the snow. Probably now, whenever she saw a black squirrel, she'd remember this moment: the pain and realization.

Stupid squirrel.

“Is there any particular reason why?” she dared to ask.

After a pause he said, “We're just not any fun anymore.”

“You mean,
I'm
not fun anymore.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I didn't say that.”

“But that's what you were thinking.”

“You're a mind reader now?”

“Don't be a jerk.”

He dropped his hands in his lap. “There you go, reason number two.”

“What?”

“This. The arguments. It's stupid. Every time we're together we argue.”

“We do not.”

Sighing, he shook his head and pulled the truck into reverse. He backed out of the parking lot and drove to the road.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to school.”

“We still have fifteen minutes,” she argued, nodding at the digital clock on the dash stereo.

He didn't say anything as he pulled through an intersection.

“Now you're not going to talk to me?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Talking leads to more arguing. If I don't talk,” he flicked his eyes to her, “we don't argue.”

“No, Drew. Stop. We need to fix this.”

“There's nothing to fix.”

“We've been together for two years! You call that nothing?”

“I call that a good relationship that has finally run its course.”

She fell back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this about Nicole? Do you like her? Did you guys hook up?”

He slid to a halt in front of a stop sign and turned to her. “No! This is about us, Sydney. Me and you and no one else. Got it?” He groaned in the back of his throat and straightened in the seat. He stepped on the gas pedal, pulling through the deserted intersection. The truck's tires splashed through melted snow.

Heat flamed in Sydney's cheeks. Her chin trembled with wanting to cry. She sucked it up. “If it's just about us, then why can't we fix it?” Her voice hitched and she was pretty sure he knew she was on the verge of tears, but he ignored it.

“Because we just can't.”

“You promise you don't like someone else?”

“I promise.”

That relieved her fears, if only a little. Maybe he just needed a short break. She could deal with that, couldn't she?

The rest of the ride to school was silent except for the whir of the heater vents blasting out warm, dry air. When Drew parked the truck, Sydney got out without a word and, instead of heading toward the school, veered to the left.

“Where are you going?” Drew asked.

Right now, she didn't care about school, or work, or her bag still in her locker. She didn't care if her dad found out she skipped school and grounded her. It wasn't like she had anyone to go out with anyway.

At her car, she pulled the keys out of her jacket pocket and unlocked the driver's side door as Drew caught up to her.

“Syd, where are you going?”

“Home,” she said, then climbed inside the car, shutting the door in his face. He grimaced, running a hand through his hair, messing the spike. The hair scattered, sticking up randomly like pins from a cushion.

“I'm sorry,” he said again as she started the car up. She backed out of the parking spot, threw the car in drive, and never looked back.