Moe Rivas has spent her whole life waiting for the perfect storybook romance, but as she approaches her senior year of college -- single, and incredibly disappointed with the male species -- she decides she's sick of daydreaming. Turning her back on...
After reminding the class of our looming portfolio deadlines, Professor Fontaine moved on to capturing motion with shutter speed. And while I sat there attentively, nodding along and playing the role of studious pupil, I could hardly call myself present. About thirty minutes into her lecture, Elijah realized I wasn't even taking notes, and he threw me a concerned look, mostly because he studied off my organized, legible handwriting before every test.
But lecture was the last thing on my mind today. Far from it.
My brain was stuck on Theo Landing, and it had been for the last four days.
I kept replaying our phone call over in my head, and the question I circled back to again and again was why. Why would he help Alyssa after everything she'd done to him? Why did he unblock her number? Why did he keep her apology letter and so many relationship mementos hidden under his bed?
Why did it fester inside me like an untreated wound?
I withdrew from him after that night, politely declining a rescheduled movie date and avoiding his phone calls. Each text notification filled me with dread, and the longer I waited to confront him, the worse it became. Before I knew it, the place that just days ago had appeared so safe and secure now felt as unstable as a swaying rope bridge.
It would have been easy to tell Theo why he hurt me if we were a couple. But at the end of the day, I was just his rebound. And this jealousy I felt—this irrational fear that he was still in love with Alyssa, this burst of insecurity—none of it was justified.
I'd promised him I wouldn't catch feelings, and explaining why that dumb little box carved up my heart would force me to say things I couldn't even admit to myself. Things I was too terrified to unpeel.
As my classmates powered on their cameras to follow along with Fontaine, my phone lit up with a text from Theo, and the message shot a pang of guilt through my body.
You haven't been answering your phone. You okay?
I stared at the bubble for a while, then sighed and seized the device. Just dealing with a lot right now. Sorry for being unresponsive.
Wdym? he asked, and when I didn't answer after a few minutes, he typed, Did I do something wrong?
No.
A minute passed, and then, Is this about Alyssa?
My thumb hovered over the iMessage bubble, but I failed to type out my confirmation. Fuck, where did I even begin? How did I bring this up over text without coming across as pathetic and insecure?
When he replied a few moments later, I felt his irritation through the screen. His impatience. Do you want to meet up later and talk?
Yes, part of me screamed. Yes, I wanted to talk!
But my fear was louder.
I can't. I'm meeting up with Jay tonight. And I've been procrastinating on this portfolio too long. I need to dedicate some time to it this weekend.
Right, he texted back. Well...let me know when you want to catch up, I guess.
I slid my phone aside and glared at my empty page of notes, drowning in self-inflicted misery.
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