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Willa had never heard the halls so silent, nor the sound of her heartbeat so loud in her ears. She'd never asked anybody out in her life, and she hadn't expected for it to slip out so easily. In fact, she'd only dated a total of two people, and one of them was for eight and a half days.
But, she figured in their case, both being finalists in a competition that had spanned years and cost at least a hundred broken hearts, he'd have little incentive to say no. It was for the good of the student body, after all.
Even if he pretended he didn't care, she was sure Ashton wouldn't deny that the title was enticing. And she was also sure, that after all her heart had suffered through in the last three days, that he couldn't break it any further.
But him? He had girlfriends, that wasn't secret information. He had to, otherwise he would have been discounted from the game long ago. And they'd been broadcasted too, at first. Until everyone realised how completely undramatic and devoid of feeling they were and just... forgot.
She doubted he knew how a heart worked. Or how to break one.
Willa could have smacked in him in the face when he started snickering, his amusement penetrating the stone cold expression on his face after a long few seconds of silence.
"What? Rebound?" he asked. His voice was deep, and she realized it had been quite some time since she'd heard him speak. "Or is this your strategy?"
She stiffened, her confidence dropping a little. But, of course, she would never let that show. "Take it or leave it, Hartford. I know you're just as keen as I am for this game to be over."
For the crown to be in her hands.
He regarded her with that snide expression for a little longer before the bell rang, and he decided to finally put her out of her misery. "Alright, Perry. I'll break your heart."
Willa saw Declan at the end of the last period. She wasn't quite ready, especially when she saw that he was laughing, tossing his head back and slapping the back of his best friend Miles as they walked across the quad and towards the training rooms.
Why was he allowed to laugh? Was his happiness just a front, like hers? And why on Earth was it suddenly a competition to show just who cared less?
On any normal day he'd have been waiting by her locker to kiss her warmly before leaving for practice, leaving butterflies behind in her stomach.
She was the one to dump him. Surely she couldn't be the only one feeling the pain. But, he looked so happy, probably making crude jokes and planning out tactics as usual, as if his heart hadn't been smashed to pieces only days ago.
Aubrey interrupted her thoughts.
"You okay?" she asked, showing some sympathy towards her for the first time all day. "That must be hard."
Willa swallowed and shrugged, hugging her books to her chest.
"You did move on fast, though," Aubrey pointed out, a devilish look crossing her features. "I don't think Richmond Prep has had this much drama since Mike from the year above said he snapped a picture of Ms. Hornsby and Mr. Riley making out."
Willa snorted, recalling the last time the whole school was abuzz. She never believed the photos even existed, but it was enough to entertain the school for the week.
"But really, Ashton though? Are you sure?" she asked, "You're not one to run full pelt at things, especially not winning The Breakup Game. I know you've been playing for, like, ever, but you're so uncaring about it. Why are you suddenly ready to get strategic?"
Willa shrugged. "I guess I just want it over once and for all."
Aubrey looked between Willa and the retreating figures of the football team. "You want revenge."
Her eyes flicked to Aubrey's, and for only a second betrayed the glimmer of hope which was growing inside of her chest. "I guess I wouldn't mind some revenge."
After all, one way to mend a broken heart was to break another.
She wasn't quite sure what was going to happen now. What had seemed like a quick, and rather impulsive, decision before had turned into something monumental. Though Aubrey had been supporting her, she wasn't sure it was in quite the right way. The girl had made a Facebook status updating everyone on the sudden-death round. Only one of them could come out of this on top. The end of them would mean the end of the game entirely.
While browsing the statuses uploaded throughout the day, she caught sight of Ashton's profile linked in one of the posts. They were Facebook friends, more by default than from being close. She'd talked to him maybe a handful of times in her life, and a lot of those times were asking if he'd like a schedule at the annual school concerts, or if he was interested in signing up for the prom committee.
It wasn't of much surprise to her that he'd drifted off of The Breakup Game's radar. While it was a point of obsession for many of the students at Richmond Prep, he wasn't an easy boy to follow, and his careless attitude made it easy to forget his escapades. In fact, maybe if Ben hadn't spoken up, Willa would have easily been crowned the winner, unchallenged for the rest of senior year.
There was also the possibility that Ashton could have said a flat out no and let The Breakup Game die with its last two competitors. It would have disappointed the student body, that was for sure, but if he really didn't care then that's exactly what he would have said.
But, her suspicions were proven correct. Sometimes even the most seemingly uncaring people were still tempted by the attention.
She knew one thing was for sure, and that was that he didn't agree because he genuinely liked Willa. This was for the game. And she was starting to grow nervous that maybe he was playing for real.
The rules for a breakup were simple. The couple must have mutually made the decision to date - rejection did not count - and they must have both tried their best to make it work. Of course, that was easily feigned, and in this case it would be obvious. She was sure nobody was stupid enough to believe her and Ashton were getting together for keeps.
Next, there must be a satisfactory reason for breaking up. It couldn't be trivial or petty, and had to centre around something serious. Like cheating. Or a personality trait you couldn't handle. Usually, the typical reasons were some kind of betrayal, or an argument that resulted in them no longer getting along.
For Ashton? She already had a few plans up her sleeve.
If he was playing the game she was, then it wouldn't come particularly easy. Even though he may pretend not to hear, she was sure he knew the rules. She was sure that, like her, he'd heard the stories of how people got eliminated. Aubrey was too clingy for her ex-boyfriend. Her close friend, Jessica, had fallen out of love with her boyfriend and broken up with him successfully. That was the thing though, you had to be in love to use that excuse.
She couldn't think of anything more cringe-worthy than feigning to be in love with Ashton Hartford. Even if he was all dark and brooding good looks, a slick jaw and deep blue eyes, she wasn't going to pretend to love someone for the sake of the stupid game. Not when every time she thought of kissing someone, or staring into their eyes in adoration, Declan would blossom in her mind.
She sighed, tugging at the roots of her hair and staring at her cotton-candy colored ceiling. Declan's forest green eyes and bright white smile echoed painfully around the walls of her mind, taunting her. It was still so strange not to pick up the phone and ask him about his day.
She'd taken down all of the photographs they'd shared in a fit of rage on Saturday morning, after Miles had texted her the pictures from Friday night. Miles, though much too loyal to Declan, had thought he'd taken it too far and that she deserved to know. Judging by the typos, he'd been just as drunk as Declan was.
But, though the photographs laid crumpled in the paper-bin, the memories were still very fresh in her mind. Even the candle flickering on her bedside table had been a birthday gift for her eighteenth only three weeks before.
She hated that, during their relationship, she had become so accustomed to him being there. Her unconscious thoughts still thought it normal to wander over to him when she wasn't monitoring them strictly. It had only been three days. She wasn't expecting to have gotten over it. But she just wished it was easy to hate him. That it was easy not to miss him.
As if thinking of him could have conjured his presence, her cell began ringing with his name on the screen, accompanied by a few emoji love hearts that still needed to be removed. For a moment, she just sat there, frozen. It was the time of evening that they usually chatted. And maybe he was calling her, as if things were normal.
She counted the rings, ready to let it go to voicemail, when at the last moment her hand snaked out and unlocked it, curiosity overcoming her anger.
As she had earlier, she returned the veil of confident, popular Willa. The one people loved.
"Hello?" she asked, letting her voice sound confused, but not feeble.
"Willa," he said, his greeting coming more as a sigh of relief than anything cheery. "Oh God, Willa. What are you doing?"
His words poked at the embers of anger that hadn't quite died down in her stomach. With a new influx of oxygen reigniting the flames, she took a deep breath. "What do you mean what am I doing?"
He has no right to ask that, she thought, words cascading through her mind faster than she could process them.
"You... you asked Ashton out. I know it's for the game. I mean, you wouldn't do that otherwise. But we never cared about it, Willa. It's a stupid game. What are you doing?"
As he repeated the question, his voice slightly hoarse, no doubt from a tough training, she tried to cool down. Being angry would remind him that she cared, and right now she wanted him to hurt. And she knew that the best way to hurt Declan was to show him no emotion. She couldn't let him know she cared. God, she didn't care.
"Ashton's hot," she said nonchalantly, finding a lock of golden hair and twisting it around her slender fingers. "And we're not together anymore. You don't have a say in what I do."
Silence. She knew complimenting Ashton's appearance would strike his ego. And those pictures were still so clear in her mind. Another girl straddling his thin hips, his arms riding up her shirt...
"He's taking me on a date tomorrow afternoon," she blurted. God, what was she saying?
More silence.
It was only last week that he was taking her on dates, between both of their social commitments. Sweet little walks along the foreshore and late-night trips to the drive-in cinemas.
"I shouldn't have called," he said, his voice a little thick. God, he didn't have the right to cry. She'd shed enough tears for both of them. And it wasn't fair for him to cry. He was the one who cheated.
"Maybe you shouldn't have," she said primly, her voice buoyant but her fists tightening in anger.
"Bye, Willa," he said. She wondered if he'd called for anything more. Probably not. It was probably just a routine they were yet to forget.
"Bye, Dec." She grimaced as the nickname fell from her lips, a little more softly than she'd wished it to.
Then the line went dead, and instead of dwelling on the pain in her heart, she started wondering just how she was going to convince Ashton Hartford to take her on a date.