Getting Schooled (Getting Some #1)(63)

“Was she the first girl you were with after we broke up?”

Garrett nods, stiff and tight, and the knife in my stomach twists in a little bit deeper.

“When? Where? Where did it happen?”

He grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. “I’m not doing this with you—I’m not doing a play-by-play recap. It’s useless and it’ll only hurt you. It was after California, after we broke up. If I could go back and change it, I would, but I can’t. The end.”

I let out a shuddery breath. And I know he’s right; I know I’m being crazy.

I close my eyes and breathe, my voice coming out small and thin. “It hurts that it was her.”

“I’m sorry, Callie.”

“Anyone else I could . . . but why did it have to be Becca?”

His brow furrows and his voice is tight. Pained.

“Because she was there.”

I shake my head at him. “You’re you—lots of girls would’ve been there for you. Why did you sleep with her? Did you . . . was it . . . to get back at me?”

His brow furrows, like he’s only now considering the question for the first time.

“Maybe. Yeah.”

“But why? Our breakup was mutual.”

He laughs then . . . and it sounds bitter.

“No, Callie . . . it wasn’t. Nothing about it was mutual.”

The moments replay in my head. That morning in my dorm room in California, when Garrett and I said goodbye.

“I don’t understand. We talked about it. You agreed—you said the distance was too hard. That we’d grown apart.”

“What else was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? Cry? Beg? I wanted to—I could see you dumping me from a mile away. But I was an eighteen-year-old kid; I had some fucking pride.”

Then Garrett touches my face, his hand cupping my jaw. “When I came out to California to see you, you were happy. It was the first time I’d seen your smile—your real smile—in months. And I couldn’t . . . I wasn’t going to take that away from you. Not for anything. So, I lied, said it was better if we broke up—that it was okay for you to move on without me. And I’d do it again.”

When I left Lakeside for college I was depressed. I had been for a while. I didn’t know it then, but now, as an adult, looking back, I can see the signs. And I had my reasons. Reasons that Garrett and I didn’t talk about then. But we need to do it now—there are things I need to say. So I look up into his eyes and rip off the scab.

“I wanted the baby. I wanted it so much . . . and I couldn’t tell you that.”

“You could’ve told me anything.”

I got pregnant in January of our senior year. We didn’t tell anyone—not Dean or Sydney, not our parents or Coach Saber, not Colleen or any of Garrett’s brothers.

It was ours. Our secret . . . and then, just a few weeks later . . . our loss.

“No. I couldn’t tell you that. Not after we lost it . . . and you were happy.”

“I wasn’t happy, Callie.” Garrett shakes his head, his jaw grinding.

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I—”

“I remember, Garrett! I remember what you said, in your room that day.” I close my eyes, and I’m right there again. “I remember what the rain smelled like.”

The window was open in Garrett’s bedroom and a curtain of rain was coming down outside. He was behind me, his warm, solid body pressed against every inch of mine—holding me, rocking me—his palm on my stomach. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear.

“This is a good thing, Callie. It’s the best thing that could’ve happened. It’s out of our hands. We don’t have to decide if we’re going to have it, or keep it, or give it up for adoption. We have our whole lives now.”

Tragedies are supposed to bring couples closer or tear them apart. That’s not how it was for us. We didn’t break up. We still went to prom, took graduation pictures, we still loved each other.

But for me, it was like . . . that tiny shard of glass stuck in the most tender part of your foot—you can’t see it, but you feel it there.

“When you said adoption, I didn’t know what you were talking about! It was like I didn’t even know you. Because I had it all planned out, Garrett. You would play football and I would go to night school and our parents would help us raise the baby. And we’d get married and buy a house on the lake.”

It was the first time—ever—that I felt like Garrett and I were going in different directions. Like I couldn’t count on him.

On us.

Our future wasn’t set in stone. It could change. It could all go away in an instant, and what would I be then? Who would I be? I didn’t even know who I was without him. If I wasn’t Garrett Daniels’ girl . . . I wasn’t anyone.

“Callie, look at me.” Garrett’s voice is raw and his eyes are red-rimmed. “I was an idiot. A young, stupid kid . . . who loved you more than anything in the whole world. And you were so sad. And there was nothing I could do . . . I just wanted to say something that would make it better for you. I didn’t know it was the wrong thing. That’s all it was, all it ever was.”

Hot, heavy tears streak down my face. For all we felt. For all the things we didn’t say.