About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(75)

Mom watched me closely, her face pink.

“I went to college to get a fancy degree, and you know what I did when I came home with it?” I shook my head. “I gave it to you. I had the stupid diploma framed and gave it to you. You know why? Because you wanted it.” My voice cracked. “Well, I got it for you, Mom. And you know what I got in return?” My eyes filled with tears of frustration. “I got a lecture on how expensive college was and that I’d better make use of those skills to make my money’s worth.” A fat teardrop fell onto my cheek. “You never even told me you were proud of me. You didn’t come to my graduation. You never even said congratulations.”

My mother’s eyes filled with tears. Emotionally, I was done.

“With every achievement, you sabotage our happiness by bringing us down. You know what you’ve taught me?” I closed my eyes, ashamed of admitting this. “To aim low. Because we aren’t worth more.” Then I stood taller. “But you know what?” I looked to my brother, who had dipped his chin, hiding his face. “Harry is worth more.” I pointed to my chest. “I am worth more.” My lips quivered. “And sometimes, Ma,”—the bridge of my nose tingled—“you are a shitty mother.”

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left my mother’s house, feeling worse than what I had when I arrived.




My apartment door had someone banging on it. I should have answered it. Instead, I stayed in bed and hid under the covers.

Whoever it was gave up, and I was thankful for the silence.

It took time, but I finally fell asleep, tears staining my pillow.




Quinn called the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

My phone was blowing up with missed calls and text messages. All of which I ignored.

There was nothing I wanted to say to him, but his messages were breaking my heart.

Quinn: I’m the world’s biggest *. Please answer the phone, Mia.

Quinn: Baby, please. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t want to talk to me and I get it, but please give me a minute to apologize.

Quinn: I feel like shit. I hate what I said and I didn’t mean it. I don’t even know why I said it. I hate myself probably as much as you hate me right now. But I’ll say it again. I’m so sorry, Mia. So sorry.

Quinn: Please, Mia. Talk to me.

Quinn: Okay, I get the message. I’ll stop, for now.

Then finally, the one message that cut me deeper than the others.

Quinn: I was jealous.

What was I meant to do with that? Was that Quinn admitting that he felt more for me? Or was that Quinn admitting he didn’t like people playing with his toys?

I didn’t know what to think, so I did what I did best. I pretended I was okay.

Harry came to my apartment the day after the Mom incident. I answered the door and slumped, ashamed of myself. “Hey.”

With his hands in his pockets, he attempted to smile. “Hey. Can I come in?”

I pushed the door open and stepped aside. “Soda?”

“Yeah.” I went to the fridge, got us both a diet soda, and sat on my beanbag. Harry sipped his drink, searched my face, and then asked what he was obviously dying to. “The other night with Mom…where did that come from?”

I shrugged. “Years of brewing, I suppose.” Then I added quietly, “When you bite your tongue, it builds up, you know? It’s like I didn’t have a choice, Har. It just spewed out.” His lip twitched. I asked, “How’s Mom?”

He blew out a breath. “Sad.” Shit. My chest ached with the tidbit. Harry added, “But I think she needed to hear it, and although I wouldn’t have done it in quite a loud and dramatic way, I think you did good.”

I was not expecting him to say that. My throat thickened. “You don’t think it was harsh?”

He nodded. “Hell yeah, it was harsh, but it was all true, and sometimes the truth hurts.”

I swallowed hard, looking down at my feet.

“What’s wrong, Mia?” Harry asked before adding quietly, “Someone took your smile.”

That was all I could handle. I dipped my chin, crumbling as my shoulders shook in silent sobs. Lifting a hand, I swiped at my eyes. “I’ve had a bad week.”

Harry made his way over, took my hand, and hauled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. “Minnie.” I rested my head on his shoulder and sobbed. “You just cry it out. Cry that sadness away.”

A few minutes of crying and I felt like talking about it. Pulling back, I reached for the tissue box. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s okay. You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you cry like that since Mark Wayne cut off one of your braids in seventh grade, which makes me think there’s a little more to this.”

He always knew when something was wrong with me. This was Harry. I could talk to him about anything. Couldn’t I? I tested the water to see if it would get weird. “You’re right.” I sighed, wiping my eyes with a tissue. “There’s this guy…”

His shoulders tensed and he gritted his teeth. “Wait, what guy? Who? Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No. Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.” I did my best to explain it. “I really liked him, Harry, and I think he liked me too. But he told me he wasn’t looking for a relationship. I went on a date the other night, and he was waiting for me when I got home. I think he just wanted to see me, and he did.” I winced. “Coming home from my date. With my date.”