I never thought an injection of thousands of dollars into my bank account would make me sob, but apparently, I was not as well-adjusted as I thought I was. Because the money for repairing my car wasn't just a kind gesture of paying me back; that money was a symbol of everything we owed each other. I didn't feel great about the vague blackmail, but Kai and I were, to an extent, in each other's orbits due to the tangible debt that sat between us. He needed me, because he couldn't afford to fix my car, and I needed him because I wanted to viciously kick my ex-boyfriend in the heart. And balls. That money said I don't need you anymore.
So, yeah, I cried for roughly one hour per day, because any more than that felt un-feminist and a little pathetic. Plus, I kept having to reapply mascara and at the rate I was going, I'd need to buy a new tube soon.
Well, at least I have the goddamn money to afford it now.
There was a lapse of four days between Kai's payment and the return to school after Easter break. I knew Madi wasn't working that day, and I had graduated from wallowing alone, to wallowing with emotional support. So, when Madi picked me up out the front of my house to take me to school, McFlurry's that it was far too early to eat in hand, I'd had to resist the urge to bawl.
She didn't ask me about Kai until we'd almost pulled into the car park.
"Why didn't you call me a week ago?" Madeleine asked, a frown settling between her brows. "I could've asked Jamie what was going on. Or just, you know, been there for you."
I shrugged, looking at the leaves rustling outside the car window. I couldn't meet her sympathetic gaze. "I didn't want to think it was true. I felt—feel—stupid. And mostly confused."
"I'm confused, too," said Madi quietly. "It was real with him. I know it was. I saw it."
"It was real," I said firmly, because despite everything, despite the lack of communication and the fact he was at Tommy's and the utter severance that the money represented, none of that aligned with the boy I knew. I'd never had such complete understanding of another person in my life, and a fundamental part of me knew that something wasn't right with the whole scenario.
I was intuitive. I'd always known Kai liked me; had never doubted it for a second, really. I wasn't like Lena Montez and that puppy-dog lover she cluelessly dragged around behind her and I wasn't like Jamie and Madi, who could hang out casually and never have it mean anything. I'd known it was real, that we could last, and my only hesitation was the few scant months separating heartbreak and Kai Delaney, who I believed had the power to own mine irrevocably. He wasn't known for commitment, and I'd just been testing the waters to see if I could change his mind. And I was so positively, overwhelmingly certain I had. So, what had changed?
"What are you gonna do?" Madeleine asked quietly. It was only then that I noticed she'd parked in the Horny Corny, obviously without the purpose of hooking up. She was probably just giving me a moment of privacy to cry, if I needed it. But I hadn't even cried over my boyfriend of two years; I refused to cry over this again.
I shrugged. "Try and talk to him, I guess. He owes me an explanation, at the minimum."
Madeleine's countenance was dark. "He owes you a shit tonne more than that."
"Not financially anymore," I said on a sigh. "I suppose the one advantage is I'm no longer classified as a blackmailer. I'm reformed!"
Madi snorted. "You were never a blackmailer. You're too short."
"I was unaware that height was a requirement in the blackmailing community."
"Sure it is. You have to be intimidating."
"Well, there goes my plan to orchestrate a car accident so that he hits me for real and is forced to owe me again."
Madeleine lifted a brow. "But what if you're hospitalised?"
I tried to exude a sunny disposition. "I'll make him give me sponge baths."
"How are you still horny for him?" said Madeleine. "We hate him right now."
"I know," I said, exhaling heavily. "But he's still so hot. And now I know what his dick looks like, so that doesn't really help. He could use that as the sponge. I'd die happy."
Madeleine looked deeply disappointed in my complete lack of a spine, or a filter. I was mostly joking, but also not really. I didn't hate him quite enough for that, and the feeling of everything that we'd done in the dark was a memory still imprinted on my nerve endings, like the flashes of colour you could see behind your eyelids just after closing them.
"Whatever you do," Madi said. "When you see him? Maybe don't lead with that."
"Fine. First, tell him he's a dick. And then second, tell him it's fine, because now he has an even bigger sponge. A human-sized dick sponge."
"Sure," said Madeleine. "Seems like an effective conversation, you fuckwit."
I smiled, and gave Madi a hug. She smelt of expensive French perfume and something warm, and I released one single, cinematic tear into the buffer of her glossy long hair. If I lost Kai, I would have Madi, at least. She was just as hot, so at least that was some sort of consolation. "Thanks, Mads," I said, a voiceover to the distinctive toll of the school bell.
"Want a lift home?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I think I'm fine. I'll let you know?"
She nodded, and reached one long arm over to open the door.
By the time I made it into school, the lack of furtive whispers told me that, at least, no one at school knew about my breakup with Kai Delaney. Instead, giggles and even the occasional thumbs up were the background for my journey to my locker. But I barely noticed my peers; I was searching for a tall figure with dark hair, my eyes scanning the crowds for his familiar face. Or, at least, one of his posse. Will or Jameson, ideally; the former because he was most likely to know what was going on with Kai, and the latter because he was mostly likely to know what was going on with anything else.
Aurora Anderson gave a whoop when I passed her chatting to Cam Davenport at her locker, and her gave me an approving wink. Moving on after heartbreak so egregious was clearly a well-supported comeback story.
Even if Kai was an ass, at least I had that. It was hard to even enjoy the concept of running into Tommy; it would be much easier to play the arrogant girlfriend-of-the-enemy than it would be to be cast as his heartbroken castoffs.
I especially hoped I didn't see Sydney. She would know immediately what was happening, and I couldn't stand her gloating.
The only other person I didn't want to see was—
"Why didn't you tell me?" Cora demanded, her face a mask of pure ire.
Cora.
Because if anyone knew me better than Sydney, it was the ever-perceptive Cora. She was a natural observer, and would immediately notice bloodshot eyes or smudged makeup. All I could hope for was that I was either a decent actress, or she was too concerned with whatever her current problem was to notice anything about my emotional state.
It was a difficult one to navigate. Cora's anger was infamous, and had been the object of many a gossipy lecture from Sydney, who was easily frustrated but never angered. But Cora's fury was remarkably consistent, and she would be equally as enraged over forgetting to call her back as she would be about running over her cat. I loved Cora, but it was one of the more treacherous elements of her personality.
So, I settled for a placating half-frown, and said, "Tell you what, Cors?"
Cora looked around for eavesdroppers, her cheeks flushed a vicious pink, and despite the lack of decibels to her words, managed to do a fairly impressive job of yelling. "That you were only fucking pretending with Kai?"
Ah.
Shit.
That was vaguely inconvenient.
If there was one person I didn't want to know about the ruse with Kai, it was Cora Hart. Half the reason for maintaining the deception with not only our classmates, but our friends as well, was to avoid this exact confrontation; because I couldn't ask all of Cora's friends to lie to her, and I could also never, ever tell her. The other half was my complete mortification at the notion of Kai's friends or the student body ever discovering the pathetic and immature plea I'd made for a fake boyfriend. But this—this was what I'd always dreaded most.
I couldn't have explained why I knew she'd be furious. It was like a sheltered kid asking their parents for permission to go out; you weren't exactly sure why they'd say no, or be annoyed at you for asking, but you sat with the deep, unsettling certainty that once you asked, you would be reamed out for ever doing so. That was Cora; fiercely loving, passionately dedicated to her friends, but never patient. But she was just as mad as I'd feared.
And while that would be a problem, I was certain, there were things I was far more concerned about at the present moment. My head throbbed, pounding in time with my racing heartbeat. "How do you know that?"
How could anyone know that? Did someone else know? Was my humiliation available for public consumption? Who had figured it out?
"Kai told me," Cora hissed, and her tone did not hide the thinly veiled accusation, that was supposed to be your job. She was right; it was my job, and Kai had promised me he would never complete it himself. Cora stood there with metaphorical steam billowing from her ears, waiting to my answer, wondering why Kai had told her and I hadn't, and it was probably a bad time to tell her I'd never intended to tell her. I didn't want to be the first murder victim of our high school. That was going to be Kai.
I shouldn't be, but I was more concerned with him than placating Cora's feelings. It was the pretext of our deal, rule numero uno, and felt like the biggest betrayal between us to date. You promised me, Kai. You knew how embarrassed I would be, and you did it anyway.
"I'm sorry, Cora," I said, mustering some sincerity amidst my panic. Because I was sorry; that she'd found out, at least. And was mad about it. Another thing to avoid mentioning, perhaps. "Um, when did he tell you?"
Cora's laugh was so incredulous and high, it bordered on hysteria. "Thanks for your consideration, Valerie. He told me last night, actually. Did you two not conspire about that as well?"
I wish we did. At least then he'd be talking to me. But why had he told her? And did everyone else know? Cora, at least, didn't appear to realise we weren't even on speaking terms. But why would Kai tell her about this, but not about the callous way he'd cut me off?
That was problem that could be solved when I found him. The Cora problem was immediate. "Look, Cora. After Tommy and Sydney I was hurt, and—"
"And you decided that Kai was your solution?" Cora demanded.
I couldn't stop the exasperation from leaking through then. "Yeah, Cora. I did. So what?"
Cora's stare was piercing, and she searched my face almost desperately. She blanched at whatever she found there, shaking her head almost absently, and when she steadied, there was a resolve to the iron set of her jaw. "For someone so perceptive about some things, you're a fucking idiot, Valerie. When Kai told me, I just thought you were selfish or—or mean. Now, I understand why you and Sydney were such excellent friends. You're both entirely self-obsessed."
Now it was my turn to be taken-aback. Self-obsessed? I was far from a perfect person; I knew that. I'd been a bad friend to Cora in the past, so desperate to keep everyone happy that I'd neglected her feelings. But I thought we were good. I wasn't even certain why she was mad, but that felt unwise to admit when she'd just given me a comprehensive criticism of my self-obsession and idiocy.
Instead, I just said, "Cora, I didn't think this would hurt you."
"Yes, you did," she said, and her voice was smaller now. Hurt. "If you didn't think I would be hurt, you would've told me."
She was, once again, right. "Okay, maybe I did. I just didn't know why. And, admittedly, I wasn't exactly thinking about you when I asked him. It kind of just... happened."
Cora grimaced. "That would be the self-obsession."
"What do you mean, Cora?"
Her laugh was entirely without humour. "I don't care, Valerie. Just—think about it. Maybe you and Kai can brainstorm, and between you, you can figure out what was always pretty obvious."
I grabbed her arms, desperate for her to listen. Because although I had little sympathy for Cora's unpredictable moods, she was my friend. I never wanted to hurt her. I told her so.
"I know," said Cora, and now she looked sad, rather than angry, though that crimson flush still heated her pale cheeks. I wasn't sure which was worse. "To have been trying to hurt me, you would have had to think of me at all."
We could do nothing but stare at each other, even as the crowds walking to class around us gradually receded, students finding their classrooms for first period. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something to dissuade her anger, and I was searching for the words to absolve me of my guilt. And so, we were both disappointed.
"Don't tell anyone," was the pitiful line I settled for. But I was desperate. I would have to talk to Kai, to beg him to please please please not tell anyone else.
That wasn't enough to Cora. The sadness vanished from her expression, and only that fathomless rage was left. "That's what you have to say to me?"
"Please, Cora," I whispered.
"Fine," she snapped. "Maybe tell your fake boyfriend, though. I'm hardly the only one who knows."
"What?"
Who else, who else, who else. Why had he told?
I felt the sting of her words like a physical blow. The wind knocked from me in one swift moment. As if someone had reached into my chest and punched me directly in the lung, and given my stomach a Chinese burn while they were at it. Humiliation coursed through me like molten lava.
Cora was as unsympathetic to my plight as I had been to hers. "I don't know who. But Will, Jamie and Isabelle know, definitely. He told them when he told me. Seb was invited to the party as well, but he was out."
Shit. Shit. He'd been at Tommy's house only days ago as well. He hadn't told Tommy, had he?
Why would he? He hates Tommy.
So then why had he been at Tommy's house?
"Do you know where he is?" I asked her. Because I had to talk to him. Now.
Cora's smile was vicious. "Fuck off, Valerie."
It was then that I saw him, just outside his classroom. Tall and beautiful and tragic. Cora had turned to her locker, just next to mine, unlocking it with an intentional bang that would have made me jump if I wasn't so engrossed in him.
His hair was tousled in a way that was devastatingly sexy, but far from intentional. The fragile skin beneath his eyes looked almost stained with black bruises, evidence of sleepless nights. He looked tired, and sad, as if he were floating through the world against his will. He didn't look angry, or ambivalent; it was not the expression of someone who had callously broken my heart.
That heart ached, even as I felt my face flush with anger. Maybe he was sad, maybe something was happening. But a lack of communication was not something I would ever accept from him. Whatever had happened, he had to just tell me. I'd listened to enough of Madi's romance book rants to know that miscommunication was the worst trope, but we weren't miscommunicating; he wasn't even communicating. And that, I'm sure Madi would argue, was infinitely worse.
I made to storm towards him, and was halted by an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
No, Little Valerie, he told me wordlessly. Don't.
And then he slipped into the classroom without another pause, without another look.
I went home at the end of first period.