How To Get Your Heart Broken Page 4

  “When did that happen?” she asked.

  I heard her mumble to herself, “How did that happen?”

  I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  “Look, you promised to play fair, so don’t get any ideas. Oh! She’s coming!” I exclaimed, making my way towards the couch as Ash descended the stairs to his front porch.

  Rachel turned to roll her eyes at me before turning to the door, staring expectantly until Ash walked in. She stopped as soon as she entered; probably disturbed by the way Rachel and I were both staring at her.

  “Hey, Ash!” I said in an unusually peppy voice.

  Rachel made her way back towards the couch, resuming the movie and pretending as if she wasn’t the least bit curious about Ash’s convo with Jessie (I was trying to stop calling him idiot-next-door in my head, I worried it might slip out in conversation).

  “Oh my God, is that Up?” Ash asked. She was still standing by the front door, trying to figure out what she’d missed. But she walked towards the T.V. now, thoroughly distracted.

  “No, it’s Down,” Rachel replied sarcastically.

  I elbowed her as if it were a knee-jerk reaction. Before she could retaliate, I got up to grab my laptop from the built-in seat by the window and went to sit on the loveseat that Ash had settled on.

  She gave me a small smile and scooted closer. “You seemed angry before. You know, when you slammed the door?” She questioned in a whisper.

  “Oh, you noticed that,” I mumbled.

  She laughed, waiting for my answer.

  “I was thinking about the-X,” I lied. What was I supposed to say? That I didn’t trust our neighbor around her? As absurd as the thought seemed to me, I knew saying anything else would have suggested to her that I was jealous.

  “Oh,” she said. She looked confused, but I knew she wouldn’t push the subject any further.

  “You know, Jessie’s actually really nice,” she went on.

  “Hmm,” I replied.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t like him. In that way, I mean.”

  Confusion clouded my face, “Why would that bother me?”

  “Because then this whole thing wouldn’t go as planned,” Her face mirrored my confusion, but I could see the smile behind it.

  “Right,” I agreed, nodding.

  “Right,” she repeated as I rolled my eyes.

  She turned her head towards the T.V. and remained silent for the rest of the movie.

  I could hardly believe it, but here I was once again, on Jessie’s porch. I’d found him sitting on the porch swing because apparently he came to the beach to just sit and wait for visitors.

  He patted the seat next to him.

  “Ugh…I’m okay,” I said hesitantly.

  “Seriously?” He asked.

  “Seriously,” I nodded at him.

  “I don’t bite. I promise.”

  I raised an eyebrow. He smirked‒I was beginning to notice he did that a lot‒and continued, “You know you keep playing this hot‒and‒cold game. But I know you want me. It’s okay though‒”

  I sighed loudly and took a seat next to him.

  “Now will you shut up?” I asked exasperatedly. I was already growing tired of that annoying smirk.

  It was late in the afternoon. The sun was setting, and all its remaining light seemed focused on him. I realized then, that his hair was not a uniform color. It was a misshapen mixture of lighter and darker shades of brown, like cinnamon and chocolate. His face was illumined in a way that brought out its shadows, like a glimpse of something deeper.

  My anger subsided. I sighed, “I’m not here to fight with you… I just want to know...What do you want with Ashton?”

  “Wow, you sure don’t beat around the bush. Don’t you want to talk about the weather? Come in have some cookies…”

  He smiled as I glared. I was starting to think he enjoyed getting a rise out of me.

  He sighed, “Alright…which one’s Ashton?”

  I smiled, attempting to hide my frustration, yet I knew the tension in my cheeks made my anger obvious.

  I was caught off guard by his wholehearted laugh, “I’m kidding! We were having cookies and talking about books. What could be more innocent?”

  I scooted away when he nudged my shoulder, “Are you jealous?”

  “Yeah. In your dreams,” I replied.

  “Okay, I get it, this isn’t about me.”

  I turned to him in mock surprise. “How big off you,” I replied sarcastically.

  He ignored my comment. He was serious suddenly, looking at me like I was a puzzle he was failing to solve, “You’re protective of them.”

  I sighed. “Don’t make this deeper than it is. This isn’t the part where I pour my heart out to you.”

  “When is that exactly?”

  I rolled my eyes. He broke his gaze, looking away at the waves.

  “I’m just saying, I respect that you’re so loyal to your friends. They’re lucky to have you. I mean, I’m the same with my little brother, but‒”

  “You have a brother?” I interrupted.

  “Yeah. Why?” He asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, you just seemed liked an only child.”

  His lips puckered, “That does not sound like a compliment.”

  “What made you think I was giving you one?” I asked, biting my cheeks to keep from laughing at his sour expression.

  “You clearly don’t think much of me. And that’s the nice thing about Ashton, she didn’t treat me like a dumb jock.”

  I froze. For a moment I felt so guilty, I almost wanted to apologize.

  And then he turned back to me. There was a playful glint in his eye. “I wouldn’t mess with her. And don’t worry; I’m not interested in either one of them. I seem to have a thing for girls who think I’m beneath them,” he said mischievously.

  I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t actually hurt his feelings. For some reason the thought of that frightened me.

  “Probably a habit you should break,” I whispered.

  He was still staring at me. Before that moment, I hadn’t noticed how blue his eyes were. I hadn’t noticed that there was a dark ring around his left eye and lighter flecks around both his pupils. But it was hard to ignore when he was this close to me. And it was also hard to deny how beautiful he was. Regardless of how I felt about him, I couldn’t deny that.

  ‘Get a grip, Eli. It doesn’t make him any smarter, or more mature. It certainly doesn’t make him less conceited,’ I thought, trying to convince myself.

  I shook my head to clear it and stood up. He was still leaning towards where I had been. I looked away, staring at the sunset in front of us. I walked towards the stairs.

  “Ali?” He called before I got to the bottom.

  “That’s not my name,” I said, turning back to him in surprise. “It’s Eli,” I corrected.

  But he was pretty close, especially considering we’d never had formal introductions.

  He paused for a moment. “Eli,” he repeated with a smirk. I sent him an impatient stare. He continued, “There’s a game this Saturday, Spain vs. Brazil.”

  I stared back as if he was speaking a foreign language. “A game of what?” I asked in confusion.

  “…Soccer. You said you liked soccer,” he finished hesitantly.

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling, “I lied.”

  He blinked in surprise, staring at me with incredulous eyes, “You went on that whole rant about how I was a jerk for assuming you were only pretending to like soccer to impress me!”

  “And I stand by what I said,” I replied, trying not to laugh at his bewildered expression. “There are a lot of girls out there that legitimately like soccer, and you should not assume that when they express an interest in it that they’re doing it for your sake.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you were thinking of them,” he huffed.

  “I’m very considerate,” I said playfully.

  I turned around and descended the res
t of the stairs.

  “What about tennis?” He called after me.

  He must have asked Ashton or Rachel for my name, I realized. Which meant that they had talked about me. Which meant he was thinking about me. I grinned. This was way too easy.

  “I can be persuaded,” I yelled over my shoulder.

  I didn’t turn around again as I walked back to our house, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.

  Reindeer Mugs Turn Me On

  Jessie’s house was basically a mini-mansion. So of course, it took more stairs then necessary to reach his porch. The outside of the house was painted white, despite how hard I imagined it would be to keep it clean.

  The inside was no different; the foyer, which stood between the living room and the spiral staircase that led upstairs, was abnormally large and a complete waste of space if you asked me. The living room was decorated completely in neutral colors, the flat-screen T.V. was almost too large, the family photos looked as if they had all been taken by professional photographers. Their dining room was almost twice the size of ours. Everything seemed showy and impersonal.

  Even though the house seemed to fit the idea I had of who Jessie was, I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, I assumed this was his parents’ house.

  It didn’t hurt that I was also in a fairly good mood today. I’d gone all week without crying about the-X. When I deleted his last one hundred apology texts this morning, I only hesitated for seven seconds. I counted. For me, this was progress.

  It had been a few days since Jessie had proposed the tennis match. It turned out he didn’t watch tennis (I had a feeling) and I only ever watched it because Rachel was into it. So we settled on a movie instead.

  The house seemed eerily quiet, but I remembered that large houses could be this way. I settled into the living room and tried to get comfortable.

  “Do you want something to drink?” He asked.

  I shook my head, “I’m okay.”

  “We’ve got tea,” he sing-songed. “I know you like that.”

  “Okay,” I relented with a shrug.

  He handed me a large mug when he returned, turning it so I could grip on to the handle while his hands wrapped around the hot sides.

  I stared at him for a little too long before taking the cup, but I’d been pleasantly surprised by this small gesture.

  And on top of that, the mug was adorable. It had a large red-nosed reindeer protruding from the side and an antler for a handle.

  ‘Maybe he’s not so awful?’ I thought to myself as I rubbed Rudolph’s nose. At this point, it was still more of a question than a statement, but the mug certainly helped. I tilted my nose towards the heat coming from it. Mint tea.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t hurt.’

  “What do you want to watch?” He asked.

  He had actual DVDs. I walked over to the large shelf and pulled one out. I handed it to him before sitting back down.

  His nose wrinkled. “James Bond?” He questioned.

  “Do you have a problem with James?” I asked. I happened to believe that regardless of age or sexual orientation, no one could resist Daniel Craig. I wasn’t going to let Jessie of all people tell me any differently.

  He shrugged, “I guess not.”

  He turned the DVD over in his hands and smirked, “So do you actually like James Bond or are you just trying to impress me?”

  “Oh for God’s sake!” I exclaimed. I lamented my earlier thought about him not being so bad.

  “I’m kidding,” he laughed as he walked towards the T.V. to put the DVD in. “I’m not at all impressed by James Bond.”

  I shook my head, looking forward to not hearing him talk for the duration of the movie.

  --

  We were halfway through the film when I remembered that Quantum of Solace was my least favorite James Bond film.

  Jessie could tell I was bored, and he kept looking over at me as if to say, ‘You picked it!’

  I was zoned out, lost in my own thoughts when I noticed him peering up at me, his face mere centimeters away. When he saw that he’d finally gotten my attention, he winked. My reaction was delayed, but I moved my head back.

  “Close your eyes,” I ordered.

  He obeyed without a moment’s hesitation.

  At times, I could be impulsive, not thinking about the consequences of my actions until it was too late. Like now.

  I moved my hand towards his face. Gently, but quickly, I ran my index finger through his eyelashes.

  Why you ask? Because I wanted to. I couldn’t resist when I’d noticed how long they were. Instead of trying to imagine how they felt, I decided to find out. And for a moment I was satisfied, it was like touching a freaking feather. But I didn’t pull my hand back quickly enough.

  I felt his lips curve into a smile by where my arm was touching his mouth. He gave the inside of my wrist a quick kiss.

  I simultaneously gasped and pulled my hand back. It felt exactly like touching something hot. I could feel the burn in my cheeks.

  My mouth formed into a small o. His smile grew ever-so-slightly, but I could tell he was trying to restrain himself, to make this casual. As if nothing had happened.

  I hadn’t realized that my hand was still hanging between us. I dropped it on my lap and shook my head.

  Ryan always told me I was bold. He told me that was one of the things he loved about me (and now I don’t know if he meant it…). But I always managed to catch him off guard, leaving him unable to respond. It made me feel more in control. Apparently that trick wasn’t going to work with Jessie. But I wasn’t sure I hated it.

  He turned back to the movie, but he was still too close. Our knees were touching. I could see the smirk that remained on his lips.

  For a moment, I felt like I’d been sucked into one of those dream sequences they often have in films, like when Cady attacks Regina in Mean Girls. Except my dream was slightly different. I would attack Jessie with my lips, and we would have mind-numbing sex on the couch.

  I swallowed and quietly slid as far away as the loveseat would allow. Then, I sat on my hands. Apparently, I was going to have a hard time keeping them to myself today. The logical part of me knew that hooking up with Jessie would be a mistake for a million and one reasons, so I tried to let it guide me.

  When the movie ended, I released my numb hands from underneath me, and dashed out as quickly as I could. I was sure he thought I was a freak.

  Most Secrets Come Out In the Worst Ways

  “This whole thing was your idea! Don’t try to pin any of this on me!” I was screaming at Rachel. I barely knew what I was saying. I just knew that nothing would have made me happier at that moment than ripping her hair out of her scalp.

  She clearly felt the same. “Screw you! You never objected to the idea before. Now that things don’t go your way you blame me! I’m not the one that has a vendetta against every man alive!”

  “You know what? This is both of your faults! You both went along with it! Eli, you always go along Rachel’s stupid ideas. This mess is because of both of you!” It was the first time I’d heard Ashton yell at anyone.

  “Why are you even talking Little Miss Perfect? You know, Eli’s only friends with you because she feels sorry for you, because you had no friends. You’re just as much of a loser now as you were in high school,” Rachel said the words coolly, as if she were asking someone to pass the salad.

  “I don’t even know why you’re here,” she added as an afterthought.

  I could see the tears in Ashton’s eyes, threatening to betray the strong demeanor she tried to maintain in front of Rachel, but I was too pissed at everyone and everything to do anything about it.

  “That’s right, screw me! Because that’s all you ever do. Maybe I wasn’t “cool” in high school, but at least I wasn’t a whore. You think I have problems? At least… at least I’m not mean. At least I’m not you.”

  I was shocked that those words had come out of Ashton’s mouth. I knew
how cruel Rachel could be, but Ashton seemed to mean every word. I had never expected that we would be standing here, having a shouting match, all of us trying to make our words hurt more.

  I watched Ash trudge up the stairs to her room. I heard the quiet click of her door and I looked at where Rachel had been standing before the slam of the front door announced her exit. I thought of the mess we had made, the mess we had all contributed to. The events of our horrendous night were finally starting to sink in. What had we done?

  It stared out fine.

  When Ashton suggested a bonfire, I thought it sounded like a recipe for disaster. But then Rachel agreed, because she wanted to “survey the competition” and a lapse in judgment led me to say yes too. And I started to think I was wrong, that we were all capable of being more civil than I gave us credit for.

  “Eli, s’more? You don’t want a s’more?” I backed away from the remnants of a wooden hanger and burned marshmallow Jessie was trying to push in my face from across the fire.

  Rachel was sitting beside him, frowning every time he said something to me instead of her. I had to admit that in some twisted way, her jealousy made me feel good.

  She tugged his arm. He turned towards her, nearly shoving the thing into her eye.

  “Do you want it?” he asked.

  “I’ll pass,” she replied, scooting away from him slightly.

  Ash laughed, and we shared looks of disgust when he shoved the thing into his mouth.

  “How come none of you want any s’mores?” he inquired with his mouth still full of the black, crispy remnants of what was once a marshmallow.

  “That was gross,” Ash giggled quietly.

  “Well, Rachel refuses to eat anything with more than 20 calories!” I replied.

  Everyone laughed, except for me… and Rachel. It was the sort of joke Rachel and I would make at each other’s expense, but something about doing it in front of him made me regret it immediately. Still, it was just another example of Eli talking without thinking, and I figured Rachel was accustomed enough to it that she would let it go.