Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(75)

MEET IN LIBRARY AFTER SCHOOL? I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.

Of course he did. Because he was jealous. Because he realized that I was in a relationship and, just like True had predicted in the beginning, wanted what he couldn’t have.

But that was what was really different now. He couldn’t have me. I was with Keegan. Keegan cared about me. He was coming to my recital on Friday, even though it meant coming straight from practice to be there on time. Keegan and I were a couple now. After what we’d done together yesterday afternoon, I was more sure of that than ever.

I just had to stay strong. If that’s what this was about. If Peter really did want to get back together. Maybe he just wanted help with his math homework or something and—

There he was. He practically filled the doorway. And he was wearing that maroon-and-white-striped rugby shirt that I’d gotten him for Christmas last year. The one I loved so much I’d briefly thought about breaking into his room and stealing it during my darker moments last week.

He saw me right away and walked over. “Hey.”

Annoyingly, his voice still sent pleasant shock waves through me. “Hey.”

After a second, he pulled out the chair at the end of the table, diagonal from me, and sat. And then he took my hand, drawing it out of my lap and into his.

Holy crap. This was happening. And I couldn’t breathe. But I was with Keegan now. Keegan, Keegan, Keegan.

“I’m sorry,” Peter began, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry for breaking up with you. I was so stressed that day and I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m so sorry, Claudia.”

I cleared my throat. I thought of Keegan, who was supposed to call me later and maybe pick me up from dance class. Keegan, who gave me chills every time he touched me.

“Will you . . . take me back?” Peter asked. “Will you . . . be my girlfriend?”

His forehead was wrinkled, his eyes hopeful. My heart flipped and sputtered, bucking and tripping like a desperate, confused, newly born fawn.

And then I said, “No.”

Peter sat up. “What?”

“I’m sorry, but no,” I said, feeling a bit like I was about to jump off a building. “I’ve moved on.”

Peter dropped my hand. “With Traylor?”

I looked at him, annoyed by the accusatory tone in his voice, like he thought he might get to choose who I moved on with. “Yeah. With Keegan Traylor,” I said, my voice wavering annoyingly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We were together for a year and half!” he protested. “I thought that you—I thought that we—”

I held my breath, dying for him to finish his sentence. Instead he huffed a sigh.

“What’s so great about Keegan Traylor?” he demanded.

My jaw dropped. “Well, first off, he’s funny. And he’s laid-back. He’s never once snapped at me for no reason.”

Peter hung his head.

“He’s coming to my recital on Friday, even though it’s not exactly convenient for him. He makes me feel like he actually wants to be with me, like he cares about the things I care about, which is more than I can say for you.”

Peter stared at me. He looked deflated. “I made you feel like I didn’t want to be with you?”

“Sometimes,” I said, faltering a bit at his naive tone. “For the last few months you just . . . I felt like you were pulling away. Every time I tried to talk to you about college, you bit my head off. . . . You walked out on me the day I got my audition. . . . It was like you were angry all the time.”

I swallowed hard, impressed by my own bravery. I’d told him what I really thought, how I really felt.

“Separation anxiety,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“It’s a real thing!” he said loudly, like a protest. “I looked it up. You’re so afraid of someone leaving you that you push them away. It’s the subconscious exerting control or some crap.”

“Oh.” I felt this odd sort of pang in my chest. He’d broken up with me because he was scared of losing me? Was that possible?

He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands forming a teepee over his nose and mouth, and sighed. “I thought . . . I thought that you, like, couldn’t wait for us to graduate. I felt like you were trying to get rid of me. That there was no way for me to be part of your future.”

He hung his head. My body felt like it weighed fourteen thousand pounds.

“Oh, Peter.”

It was the only thing I could say without bursting into tears. Why hadn’t he just told me this instead of breaking up with me? If we could have talked about it last week, before the pain and anger and confusion and plotting and planning and Keegan. Maybe then, things would have been different.

Suddenly he pushed himself up and started out of the room. My heart caught in my throat. “Peter.”

He turned to me hopefully, which made me feel like a jerk when I reached into my backpack and pulled out his class ring.

“I should give this back to you.”

“This isn’t happening,” he said breathlessly. His face was like stone. He didn’t move a muscle. I placed the ring on the table and got up.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” I said clearly, almost unable to believe I was actually saying the words. “It’s too late.”