Check, Please (Book #2)

Twenty-Nine.

Gemma hadn't said a single word since sitting down on my bed and asking me what I wanted to talk about. She hadn't looked up at me either, instead keeping her unblinking stare trained on the tattered rug beneath her flats.

Just like she was avoiding making eye contact with me now, I'd been careful not to meet her gaze when I'd opened the door to let her in fifteen minutes before. I knew myself, which was why I knew that if I even caught a glimpse of her honey-colored eyes, there was no way that I'd be able to say what I needed to.

And I had a lot that I needed to say.

Although I'd practiced my speech a few times in front of the mirror, my words still didn't flow poetically or even coherently while I spoke. I was rambling, plain and simple—and that was alright with me. I just needed to get everything out before fear took hold and forced me to take back what had already spilled from my mouth.

Without pausing to catch my breath, I told Gemma that I cared about her. I'd always cared about her—in fact, truth be told, there was a part of me that truly loved her, though it was smaller than it had been at the beginning of the year.

At the very least, it was certainly less vocal—less desperate for her to feel the same way.

I admitted that I'd only agreed to our not-quite-relationship because I'd hoped that, with time, she'd realize that she wanted to date me for real. To be official—my girlfriend, or at least something more than just friends with benefits. I confessed that I knew most guys in college would jump at the chance to have the kind of arrangement that she'd proposed, but I wasn't most guys.

She knew that.

She knew that, and I knew that I wasn't perfect. We both had our flaws but I'd done my best to accept hers because I'd thought she'd always be there. I'd wanted her to always be there.

The problem was that I knew she couldn't be, and in the last few months, I'd come to realize that we were on two completely different paths. Even though I wanted to hold on to what we'd had, she deserved to go after her goals without me holding her back—

"You met someone else, didn't you?"

I paused, startled by the abruptness—and accuracy—of Gemma's question. Swallowing hard, I started to shake my head, but then stopped. At this point, what did I have to lose by being honest?

"Kind of," I said, shoving my hands in my hoodie's pockets to hide the fact that they were trembling.

Gemma's face was a perfect mask of calm as she looked up at me. "Is it your tutor? Melanie?"

I bit down on my tongue, hoping that was just a lucky guess and my feelings hadn't been that transparent. Then again, they probably had. When I finally nodded, Gemma simply stared back at me for a long, silent moment.

Then, she burst into tears.

"I knew it," she said between gut-wrenching sobs. I sank down next to her on my mattress, trying to ignore the nausea that bubbled in my stomach. "I knew it. The minute I saw you two together at that stupid football game, I knew."

I said the only thing that seemed appropriate: "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," she snapped, unable to wipe her eyes fast enough to stop her tears from falling. "You're sorry? Yeah, right, you're sorry. Oh, my God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be, Gem."

"Are you serious? This is completely humiliating!"

The next word slipped out before I could stop myself. "Why?"