I missed Tobias.
I felt like he’d been taken away, too.
The Monday of our return, Tobias didn’t even look at me when he walked into Spanish first period. An ugly feeling churned in my stomach the entire class, and I tried to tell myself everything would be okay. That was, until he stayed behind to ask Señora Cooper something, and I had no choice but to leave the class without talking to him. Was that deliberate on his part? Or did he really have something to ask her?
By the time English came around for fourth period, I’d worked myself into a jittery mess. I had a strategy to break the ice between us and I really hoped it worked.
He was there before I was, staring straight ahead with this cold expression that warned people not to approach him. I shot a look at Vicki and Steph who were already seated, and they gave me sympathetic smiles. They knew I planned to use this class to get him to talk to me if I could.
“Hey,” I said as I took my seat next to him.
He gave me a nod of his chin without looking at me, and I tried to batten down the anger that threatened to rise inside me.
We were twenty minutes into class when Mr. Stone left the room to collect some mock exam papers he’d forgotten in the English office. As the noise level rose around us, I slipped the bit of paper I’d been holding on to all day and placed it in front of Tobias. He frowned but opened it up to reveal a poster for Pan. They were hosting an evening event in a month’s time called Youth of Today and were inviting under eighteens to recite their poetry. “What am I looking at?”
Ignoring his snappish tone, I explained, “I’m going to do it, Tobias. I’m finally going to get up on that stage and I’d really like you to be there.”
In my head it had seemed like a great icebreaker. It was something he knew I was nervous and afraid of, and I thought it would make him feel good to know that he had helped me get to the point where I wanted to overcome my fears. Be brave. Moreover, the poem I had chosen to read was one I’d written specifically for him.
Yet the way his expression darkened and the cutting look he shot me made me realize Tobias didn’t think this was the greatest icebreaker at all. “Are you kidding me?”
I shrugged, blushing, because I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong.
“Stevie’s dead and you want to talk about your freaking poetry café? Are you that self-centered? Do you not care?”
Stunned by his reaction, by his accusation, I could only stare at him, struggling to find a reply.
He squeezed his eyes closed as if he was in pain, and when he looked at me I knew what was coming before he’d even opened his mouth. “I can’t do this with you right now. I need a break. I think we should break up.”
THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG
30
I’m not your Juliet, you’re not my Romeo,
I won’t let our love end in drama and woe.
—CC
If anyone asked me how I got through the rest of that class I wouldn’t be able to tell them. I had no idea.
All I felt was pain. I remember that much.
Tobias left as soon as the bell rang, while I sat there, stunned. My muscles seemed to hurt when I moved as I forced myself to get up and put my work into my bag. To put my bag over my shoulder and make my feet walk out of the door.
Then Vicki and Steph caught up with me.
“What happened?” Vicki said. “Comet, what’s going on?”
My lips felt numb. I bit them, checking they were still there. They were. So I moved them. “He broke up with me.”
As soon as the words were out it felt like my chest was going to cave in, like the words had been inside me, holding me up, and as soon as they were out pieces of me just started to collapse. Panic suffused me, because I did not want the added humiliation of breaking down in public.
“I have to go,” I spoke over Vicki and Steph, who were surrounding me in concern. “I’m going home.”
“Comet, wait—”
“I’m going home.” And I just started to run.
I didn’t remember the journey to the house. I just knew suddenly my front door was there and beyond it was a place to hide. As soon as I slammed inside I dived for my bedroom, but I was barely in it when I heard my dad call my name. Suddenly he was walking into my room, frowning at me.
“What are you doing home?”
And it was in front of him of all people that I finally fell to pieces, the sob bursting out of me before I could stop it.
It was followed by another and another as my knees gave out.
A strong arm encircled me. “Comet, what happened?” my dad asked, sounding scared, and I realized it was his strong arm around me and he was sitting on the floor with me.
Instead of answering I fell against him and let the shattered shards inside of me rattle with my cries. I’d never felt anything like it.
Tobias was gone from me.
He didn’t want me anymore.
He didn’t love me.
How could he not love me anymore?
“Comet, you’re really scaring me.”
I tried to find the words to explain but I was afraid of his reaction. The fear of him making this into some petty high school drama stalled me. It was more than that. Tobias and I hadn’t felt like puppy love or a first crush.
He was the first person I’d ever truly loved who had loved me back without question.
Until now.
“Tobias...he broke up with me,” I whispered through my tears.
My dad’s arm tightened around me. “I am so sorry. I know how much you love him. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. If I did that, said it all out loud, I was afraid I’d start to believe Tobias had every reason to dump me.
* * *
My dad did something cool for me and called the school to tell them I was sick.
I stayed “sick” for four more days.
Ignoring calls from Steph and Vicki, I even refused to come to the door when they turned up at the house. Just last week the thought of missing a lit mag team meeting would have made me panic. Now I couldn’t bring myself to care about it.
Instead I locked myself in my bedroom and I read.
I read book after book, losing myself in the world of make-believe, where extraordinary happily ever after endings happened one after the other. Yet...
The HEAs didn’t do for me what they used to. Not one of them gave me giddy butterflies the way that a kiss from Tobias did. Not one of them comforted me the way his addictive hugs did. None of them made me feel angry or sad or safe or excited the way he did. The emotions I went through when reading a good book, I discovered, were merely a muted version of what my emotions could be. I’d never known more color or been more awake than when I’d started living in the real world with Tobias.
And I resented the hell out of him for it.
I hated him!
I loathed him!
I wished he’d get on a plane and fly back to bloody North Carolina!
But I didn’t.
Not really.
Because I loved him.
Curled up in bed I found myself sobbing hysterically at an ensemble flick I was watching on Netflix. Later, weeks down the line, I’d look back on that moment in horror, realizing just how low I’d been brought.
Crumpled tissues lay scattered across my duvet along with books, cookies and empty packets of crisps. I was not a pretty sight but I couldn’t seem to care. Even when my dad walked into the room and stared at me in disbelief. I paused the film, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “What is it?”
Dad’s gaze traveled all over my messy room as he stepped over books and clothes, trying to put his feet on empty floor space. “I was just wondering when you were thinking about going back to school.”
“Never.”
He took a seat on the bed and stared at me with an expression that raised my hackles. “Are you judging me?” I whined. “Seriously?”
He made a face and gestured to the room. “This isn’t really like you.”
“My heart’s broken. I’m wallowing.”
“Yes, well, it seems to me you’ve gone back into hiding.”
“So?”
He exhaled heavily. “I would have thought that Carrie and I were a lesson well learnt.”