The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(59)

She jerked away from my touch so fast that she bumped into some kids by their lockers. “I just—I don’t know what to think anymore.” Taylor glanced around the crowded hall and ducked her head down again. “Let’s talk about this later. When we’re alone.”

Right, because of her precious reputation. Wasn’t that the reason we were in this crap to begin with?

For some reason, this only fueled my anger. I shoved my hand in my hair in frustration. I’m not a stranger to angry women—heck, I was a pro at defusing them—but only if it was my fault. Which it usually was. But not this time. Why was she playing the martyr in the situation? Why did I feel like crap as I defended myself? What did I even do wrong?

If anyone was mad around here, it should be me. I was the one turning down sex while Taylor was off going to plays and almost kissing guys in cars. For once, I was the good guy here. I didn’t even call her out on it. I’d been a freaking saint ever since I signed that stupid contract.

I leaned down to mutter in her ear. “Fine, we’ll continue this later.” She stiffened at my closeness but didn’t pull away this time. “But I don’t know why you’re so worked up about this like a jealous girlfriend. We’re not really dating, remember?”

Shit, that was definitely the wrong thing to say. I wanted to take the words back, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. “You said that this was just a business arrangement, or are you just full of crap now?”





21

{Taylor}


Evan’s accusations were like gunshots. Not because they were loud, but because of the intensity of his words. How dare he? As though it had a mind of its own, my hand rose to slap him. He didn’t flinch at all. In fact, I could have sworn he leaned down a bit so it would be easier to hit him.

I stopped and lowered my hand back to my side. “Never mind. You’re right.”

His face looked pained. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” Evan began, his hand stretching out to grab my arm.

For the first time, I barely paid any attention to his touch. Nothing registered in my mind. Not the fact that we were in the middle of the hallway. Not the audience who was straining to hear us. Nothing. I just wanted to get away from him.

“We both knew what we were getting into. And we knew the limits of this relationship. I was the one that got things mixed up. Stupid of me.” My voice turned sweet and calm. And indifferent. Like I was ordering a tuna sandwich for lunch. Hold the pickles.

“No, you’re not—”

I shrugged away from him. “But everything’s ended up pretty well. People stopped gossiping about us a long time ago. Maybe we should just end it. I’ve been waiting ages for things to go back to normal.”

“You have?” Now it was his turn to look shocked.

“Of course. I’ll even take you out to dinner to celebrate our breakup. Somewhere nice. But until then, remember our deal. No cheating on each other,” I joked halfheartedly. The lump in my throat grew until I could barely talk anymore. I had to get out of there. I cleared my throat and smiled at him, a wide, beaming smile that hopefully hid the way I was feeling. “I have to go to class, but I’ll see you after school.”

His mouth opened as though he wanted to argue with me. My heart soared when his grip on my arm tightened, only to crash to the ground when he let go. “See you later.”

*

I didn’t know why I was so pissed at Evan. So Lauren was putting the moves on Evan. Big whoop. Like he said, we weren’t anything to each other. A few kisses didn’t mean that we were dating. Nothing had changed.

Except me. Why was I so stupid to think that we could—that he might—

Stupid. STUPID. Stupid.

I needed something to do. Something to distract me. And I knew the perfect solution. With the deadline for the new issue of New Voices just days away, Brian would be holed in the media room so he could go over each article and piece himself to make sure it was perfect. Each issue was his baby.

I stared at the wooden media-room door and willed myself to just forget about Evan. At least for a few hours.

With an unsteady hand, I pushed the door open. Brian’s lanky body hunched over pieces of paper that were spread out on the table. The skinny tie that he wore with his white button-down shirt was loosened until it was nearly untied. His shirttail poked out of his dark-wash jeans.

The first thing that I noticed—besides how tired he looked—was that he needed a haircut. Badly. His black hair repeatedly fell into his eyes, and he absentmindedly batted it out of the way. He alternated between chewing on his thumb and his lower lip as he moved the pieces around. His dark eyes squinted as he tried to visualize the order they should go in.

I shut the door with a bang. He looked up and smiled, the familiar smile that had tugged at my heart since the first time I met him. “You’re late. Did Higgens keep your class back talking about his wonderful son again?”

Brian didn’t take physics. He had lucked out and was placed in the honors microbiology class upon his parents’ request. But he’d heard me complain about Mr. Higgens a thousand times. “No, I just had stuff to do.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t blame you for ducking out on me. Every month I ask myself why I put myself through this torture.” He scratched at his neck and shook his head. “But now that you’re here, do you mind looking over this article? I don’t know if it should go before or after the pep-rally recap.”