The Heartbreakers (18 page)

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Authors: Pamela Wells

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BOOK: The Heartbreakers
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“Please, Ray?” Horace said, the plea pinching the corners of his eyes.

Despite the embarrassment already heating her face, she nodded and went out to her car to grab her iPod. She wanted to make Horace happy. For some reason, pleasing him pleased her and she tended to believe the things he said, even if they were compliments that didn't involve her boobs or her talent for making out.

Inside, she put the headphones on and turned to the guys. Hobb had the bass guitar hanging from a strap. Dean was behind the drums and Horace was on the guitar.

“I didn't know you played,” she said, nodding. Horace was in the percussion section in the school band. It seemed natural that he would play the drums.

He shrugged, pulling a pick from the strings. “I've played the guitar longer than the drums. It's just the school band doesn't allow guitars in.”

“Why is that, anyway? It seems so unfair.”

“I don't know, but it sucks.” He started strumming a few practice notes on the guitar as she flipped through her playlist on her iPod and got the song ready.

“We'll start off,” Horace said. “Jump in when you're ready.”

“Okay.”

Horace positioned his fingers over the arm of the guitar and started strumming with the pick in the other hand, notes sounding through the amp behind him. She couldn't help but watch him, his fingers moving effortlessly through the chords, sliding up and down the neck of the guitar.

He looked up then, caught her staring, and he smiled. “Go ahead,” he mouthed as Dean started in on the cymbal—
tick, tick, tick
—and Hobb on the bass—
dum, dum, dadum
.

Her foot started tapping on the cement floor. She pressed play on the iPod and the live music mingled with the recorded. She closed her eyes, taking the mike and the stand in her hands.

Don't think.

Just jump in.

She took in a breath, quieted the voice that told her this was crazy, and she sang.

When the song was over, her heart hammered in her chest.

“Wow,” she whispered. She'd never felt anything like that, the music not just sounding in her ears, but vibrating through the floor, bouncing off the walls, pouring out of her.

“That was wicked!” Hobb said. Dean nodded in agreement.

“Ray, that was awesome,” Horace said.

She felt like she was glowing. “It
felt
awesome.”

“So join Hobb and the Heartbreakers!” Hobb said.

Dean shook his head. “That is not our name.”

“Will you sing with us?” Horace asked, ignoring the argument starting behind him.

Her mother would kill her if she joined them. A rock band to Ms. Valenti was synonymous with joining the circus. But right now, Raven didn't care what her mom would think. She just wanted to make music.

She smiled. “I'm in.”

TWENTY-THREE

Rule 27:
You must not allow yourself to develop any new crushes for at least three months after the breakup.

After school the next day, Kelly came straight home and dropped her homework in her bedroom. She'd do it later. She went into the den and signed on the Internet, going to Yahoo mail.

She typed in her email password and hit enter.

You have 1 new message.

Was it from Will?

It doesn't matter, she thought. I'm not going to answer it even if it is. I'm so over him.

She clicked on her inbox. It was from Drew. The subject of the email said, “I need your help.”

Kel,

I need your help. Kenny is flaking on poker tonight and I need another player asap. I already told
your brother you were doing it. Please tell me you can fill in.

—D

Hanging out with Drew sounded like fun, but playing poker with her brother did not. She hit the reply button.

Hey, Drew! I don't know about…

“Kelly?”

Kelly turned around in the desk chair. The base squeaked with age. “Hi, Mom. What's up?”

Mrs. Waters came into the room and shut the door. She clutched a piece of paper in her hand. Sitting on the sofa, she leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees. “We have a problem.” She held up the piece of paper as if presenting evidence.

Kelly took a closer look at it and winced. It was mid-semester grades. Crap. Suddenly, several missed assignments ran through her head. Chapter seven in geometry. A failed pop quiz in Spanish 2. An unfinished assignment in history. Hopefully those missed and failed assignments would only add up to a C. She had to get at least a C to pass.

It was just that she'd been so stressed lately, what with the breakup. She hadn't felt like studying or doing any homework. It didn't seem like that much at the time, but now she wondered if her lack of ambition had finally taken its toll.

“How are the grades?” Kelly asked.

Mrs. Waters inhaled through her nose and then looked down at the paper. “You're failing Spanish and geometry and you're in jeopardy of failing history, too.”

Kelly's face instantly reddened in embarrassment and shame. It was
that
bad? Her Spanish teacher was the only one who'd recently pulled her aside about her grades, but her history and geometry teachers hadn't said a word. Of course, her geometry teacher had suggested she find a tutor. Kelly had forgotten about that.

“I'll make the missed assignments up,” Kelly said. “And I'll ask my teachers if I can do anything for extra credit. They're usually pretty good about that stuff.”

Mrs. Waters shook her head and looked at the grades again. “You promised me you'd do your work the last time we had this conversation.”

Kelly bit her lip. “Mom. Please let me try harder! I'll get a tutor for geometry, and history and Spanish will be a breeze.”

Her mom crossed an arm over her chest. “If it was a breeze, then why didn't you do it the first time around?”

Kelly shrugged. She didn't have a good excuse for that. She couldn't say she'd slacked off because of a breakup. “Stress,” she finally said, hoping that would suffice.

“You have three weeks to prove to me that you can bring your grades up. I expect to see some improvement.”

“You will. I promise.” Kelly jumped up and wrapped her arms around her mom's neck. “You're the best.”

“You probably won't be saying that if you don't do your homework.”

“No. I will.”

Mrs. Waters nodded and left the room.

Kelly went back to the email to Drew.

Tell you what, I'll play poker tonight if you help
me with my geometry. Let me know. I'm in way over my head and I desperately need your help.

˜Kelly˜

Alexia threw the dirty, wet sponge in the bucket of water beside her when she heard her cell ringing in her bedroom. She tiptoed over the newly clean bathroom floor so as not to smudge it.

She grabbed her cell off her dresser and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“It's your favorite person in the world.”

Alexia smiled, clutching the phone harder. “Ben. Hi.”

“So, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was just finishing cleaning the bathroom floor.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“That doesn't sound like fun.”

Alexia sat on the edge of her bed and brought her legs up, crossing them Indian-style. “It's not, but someone has to do it.”

“I guess. So listen, what are you doing after you clean the bathroom floor?”

“Not sure yet. I should maybe vacuum.”

“Uh, no. You should get out of the house and go to a movie with me.”

It'd been a few weeks since Alexia and Ben had their first kiss. They hadn't kissed since then, mainly because 1) Alexia was afraid that even though her first kiss hadn't
been so bad, her second might be disastrous, and 2) she didn't want her friends to find out about Ben yet. Part of her worried that Kelly would see Alexia and Ben together as a direct violation of the girl dating rule. Ben was Will's twin brother. It would almost be like she was going out with Will.

“Come on,” Ben said, “say yes.”

What were the chances that she'd see one of her friends at the theater? Sydney was at home. Alexia knew that because she'd just talked to Sydney not that long ago. Kelly was catching up on homework, and Raven was working.

“What would we go see?” Alexia asked. Besides, even if she did see someone, she'd tell the truth: that she and Ben were just friends. He hadn't officially asked her to be his girlfriend.

Yeah, that's exactly what Raven said about her and Zac, and you got on her case about it, she thought. Alexia groaned at her internal critic. This was different. She wasn't going through a breakup, so the rules didn't completely apply to her.

“We'll see whatever you want,” Ben said.

“What about
Kiss and Tell
?”

There was a long pause, then, “Well, if that's what you're into…”

“I'm kidding!”

Ben let out a prolonged sigh. “Thank God. I wasn't going to say anything, but I really didn't want to see that movie.”

“Not a fan of love stories?”

“Not on the silver screen, because nothing is that perfect.”

“How about
When They Collide
?”

“I like humor,” Ben said. “How about the seven o'clock show? I'll pick you up?”

“That sounds good. See you then.”

Laughter filled the movie theater all around them.
When They Collide,
a comedy about a man and a woman butting heads in the corporate world and then falling in love, was hilarious.

As she and Ben walked out, people recapped their favorite scenes, repeating the funniest snippets of dialogue. On the sidewalk, the amber glow of streetlights lit the way as they headed for the car they'd parked on a side street.

“I had fun,” Ben said, bumping shoulders with her.

“Me, too.”

He grabbed her hand, threading his fingers with hers. A smile graced her face as Ben's thumb ran up and down the side of her hand. How was a gesture so small so thrilling?

When they reached Ben's car, he unlocked the passenger door first and held it open as Alexia climbed inside, out of the cool breeze. Hands trembling with excitement, she folded them into her lap, not wanting Ben to see. He'd probably think she was an inexperienced dork. Maybe he held hands with a lot of girls he took out on dates. Did he take out a lot of girls?

Engine now running, the heat blasted out of the vents, warming Alexia's face. She turned to Ben and caught him staring at her, the car still in park.

“What?”

“I like you,” he said, the candor surprising Alexia, even coming from Ben.

The smile on her face turned nervous. “I like you, too.”

“So if you like me, and I like you, why aren't we officially together?” He grinned. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Alexia.”

Alexia's mouth dropped open and she quickly snapped it shut.

His girlfriend?

Did she hear him right?

“Say something,” he coaxed, reaching across the center console to take her hand again.

“I'm just surprised.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It's good,” she clarified. “I…uh…”

The well of excitement in her chest made it hard to breathe. She looked over at Ben in the driver's seat. This was what she'd been waiting for. The last two years, her friends had had boyfriends and she was always single. Up until this point, she'd worried she'd always be alone and she'd graduate from college sans boyfriend. Either that, or she'd have to settle for someone she didn't really, really like.

But she liked Ben, if the butterflies in her stomach were any indication.

“Okay,” she said, thinking only of the moment and nothing in the future, namely, what would her friends say? Would they shun her now because she had a boyfriend and they didn't? She didn't want to lose what they had now, all of them together, hanging out.

“Okay what?” Ben asked, looking diffident.

“Okay, I'll be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Leaning over, he threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her, sealing the deal.

I have a boyfriend!

TWENTY-FOUR

Rule 4:
You must forget The Ex's birthday. Forget that he was born.

Rule 18
: Do not ask anyone what your Ex is up to. Who cares! Your only concern should be what you are up to.

Rule 20:
You have twenty-four hours to mourn the loss of The Ex. After the twenty-four hours, no more tears.

One hour on Monday. Two hours on Tuesday. Thirty minutes on Wednesday.

Mmm, Wednesday was a good day at least, Sydney mused.

Three hours on Saturday.

The list went on and on, way past twenty-four hours. She'd probably mourn the loss of Drew for the rest of her life. Twenty-four hours wasn't enough. A lifetime wasn't enough.

She ticked off the days on her desk calendar with a finger stopping on March eighteenth.

Tomorrow is Drew's birthday, she thought. No, I'm not supposed to be thinking about it. I'm supposed to be forgetting it.

She opened her desk drawer, grabbed a tiny jewelry box, and flipped open the lid. There were only three things on the inside: a bracelet her mother had given her on her tenth birthday, a heart-shaped locket handed down to her from her grandmother, and a ring. A guy's ring. The one Sydney had bought months ago for Drew's birthday. She ran her finger around the cool white-gold band as if circling the edge of a wineglass to make it sing.

What was she going to do with it now?

Maybe she should get rid of it. After all, if she was going to follow Rule 4 and forget Drew's birthday, having the gift she'd bought for just such an occasion really defeated the purpose.

But not yet, she thought numbly. I don't want to get rid of it yet.

A part of her, deep down inside, hoped that she'd need the ring in the future. That maybe there was a little chance they'd get back together. And then she'd regret getting rid of the ring.

“Sydney!” her dad called from the kitchen.

Sydney slammed the lid of the jewelry box closed and deposited it back in the desk drawer. “Coming.”

In the kitchen, Mr. Howard pulled open the dishwasher and started stacking several bowls on top of the counter. “Help me unload, please?”

Sydney started with the plates, since they were easiest. “Mom coming home today?”

Mr. Howard slid the bowls into the cupboard. “No. But I'm sure she'll be home in a few days.” He stopped long enough to look at Sydney and smile a closed-lip smile. Sydney knew what he was thinking. He missed Mrs. Howard, and a few days were probably going to turn into several days.

They finished emptying the dishwasher. Sydney excused herself and headed into her bedroom. She picked up her Breakup Code journal and turned to a fresh page, flopping down onto her bed. She settled in on her stomach, her legs bent at the knees.

There were so many things running through her head, things she wanted to get out, but she didn't know where to start. She uncapped her pen and started doodling. Swirls turned into her name as she wrote it over and over again, and then she was writing
Drew
+
Sydney
.

Grumbling, she dropped her forehead to the page with a thump. It'd been three weeks since Craig's party at the abandoned barn. Three weeks since Drew took care of Sydney and practically stayed the night with her. The whole thing had only made the breakup worse. She couldn't stop thinking about how sweet and protective he'd been. Or how gentle he sounded when he'd said he loved her.

She'd almost rather have none of Drew than just a little bit, which is exactly what she'd had that Saturday night. He'd been there for her as if they were still together. He'd taken care of her, made sure she got home and into bed as promised, but he was gone when she got up, having slipped out sometime in the night. When she called later in the afternoon to thank him, he'd been aloof. Did he regret staying with her?

At least they hadn't gotten into a huge argument. They were always fighting when they were together and the arguments came more often than “I love you,” but she'd made herself believe they were just in a “phase.” That they'd get over it.

But they hadn't, and here they were: Done. Finished.

If the breakup was good for anything, it was that it showed Sydney some of her faults. She probably would have broken up
with herself because of the way she was acting near the end. She'd taken Drew for granted.

It wasn't just about keg parties or being more outgoing. They were two different people now. Unfortunately, Drew had been the first to figure it out, while Sydney had been in the dark. She'd tried to hold on to something that wasn't even there anymore. She'd fooled herself.

“Dinner's almost done,” Mr. Howard called, the smell of simmering taco meat wafting out of the kitchen.

“Okay.”

Sydney grabbed her pen again and started writing, just to get her thoughts out. Her mother used to keep a journal when Sydney was younger. Mrs. Howard would sit in the chair in the corner of the living room that looked out over the backyard. The chair was in the same spot, dust collecting on the beige upholstery. It didn't move and no one used it.

I'm sorry,
she wrote in her journal.
I'm sorry for not seeing. For not listening. I'm sorry for taking advantage of you and your good nature. I'm sorry for the things I said and didn't say. I wish I could go back.

Reading it over, she nodded to herself. It sounded good in her mind, truthful. It was almost a release getting it on paper. Was this what her mother felt, writing in her journal so long ago?

What would Drew think if she read it to him? She didn't want to use it to get him back, she just wanted him to know what she was thinking and feeling. So that maybe he wouldn't feel so bad about breaking up with her. It would be her way of telling him how much he meant to her
and
that she was ready to let him go. Well,
almost
ready to let him go.

It could be a birthday present. Instead of the ring, she'd give him this on open-mike night.

Was she crazy for wanting to humiliate herself in a public venue? Yes, she probably was.

“Dinner's done,” Mr. Howard said.

“I'm coming.” Sydney capped her pen and shut the notebook on it, marking her spot so she could pick up the journal later.

The next day, in order
not
to think about Drew and his birthday, Sydney got up early, packed a backpack, and headed out to Birch Falls Park with her mother's digital camera.

It was one of those late winter days when the sky was clear and the sun was shining. In direct light, it almost felt like spring in the above-freezing temps. Thank God spring was just days away. Sydney couldn't wait to get out of her winter clothes.

She parked in the front lot of the park and got out of the car with her backpack. She'd used the digital camera a few times since fetching it from the attic. She couldn't find the user's manual, so she didn't know much about the camera's features. The important thing was she knew how to turn it on and how to take a picture. That was really all she needed.

There were a few cars in the parking lot but no one in sight. Most likely they were on one of the ten different trails that ran through the park. Sydney had been on all of them with her mother.

Keeping on the narrow, paved walkway, Sydney headed toward the start of her favorite trail, the Lost Lake Trail.
The path was clear, but wet from the melting snow. Sydney's Columbia hiking boots made slapping noises in the shallow puddles.

On each side of the walkway were woods, the ground covered in patches of snow and piles of crisp leaves. A fat black squirrel darted beneath one of the wooden benches as Sydney stepped on a twig.

Squirrel, Sydney thought. I saw a black squirrel the day Drew and I officially broke up.

She sighed as the old pain from that day came flooding back. She was done crying, but the ache in her chest whenever she thought of Drew was still sharp.

I don't ever want to look at another squirrel again, she thought.

But then she brought up her camera, hit the
ZOOM
button twice, and snapped a picture. The screen on the back of the camera brought up the shot. She'd caught the squirrel bringing something to its mouth with both hands. It almost looked like it was praying.

“That's actually not too bad,” she said to herself.

“What's not too bad?”

Sydney shrieked and whirled around. Kenny, a guy from school, stood behind her, his chest rising and falling quickly as if he'd been running. Sweat beaded on his temples. His cheeks were red.

“Hey,” she said. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged and then repositioned his baseball hat on his head so that the brim was in back. “I thought you heard me run up.”

Sydney looked past Kenny to the paved trail winding through the trees. Sometimes Drew came out here and ran
with Kenny. Part of her was hoping she'd see him come up.

“I'm by myself,” Kenny said. He put his hands on his hips.

“Right. I was just”—She stopped herself before she sounded silly. Kenny was no idiot. He knew she'd been looking for Drew. “How is he?”

“Drew? He's”—Kenny ran his shirtsleeve over his temples to soak up some of the sweat—“he's okay, I guess. You know Drew. He's not all Dr. Phil with his emotions.”

Sydney smiled and nodded. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. There were a million other questions she wanted to ask him, but she hated to sound so nosy. And it wasn't like it was any of her business what Drew was up to. There was also the possibility that she'd just annoy Kenny with the grilling, and if she annoyed him, he'd probably complain to Drew about it.

What would her friends do in this situation? Raven would just smile and flirt to get the answers she wanted. Alexia wouldn't ask at all. And Kelly…she'd come up with a way to ask without actually asking.

Come on, Sydney. You're the smart one. Think of something.

“So,” she began as her mind tried to grab for something clever, “what have you been up to?”

Kenny was with Drew all the time. Maybe she could glean something from his answer.

“Just hanging out,” he answered. “Mostly it's just been me and Todd and Drew and Kelly. You know.”

What about Nicole Robinson? Sydney so wanted to ask. She parted her lips, ready to blurt the question out before she could think better of it, but then she looked down at the
camera in her hands. It signified something new in her life, something that was just hers. And right now, the thought of hiking through the woods and taking pictures like she and her mom used to do, sounded more interesting than discussing high school gossip.

She cared if Drew was seeing Nicole Robinson, but caring wouldn't get her anywhere. It would just cause her more stress, and she'd come to the park to enjoy herself.

“Well,” she said, “I should let you get back to your run.”

Kenny nodded. “Yeah. Still have a mile left to go.” He raised his arms above his head and stretched. “See ya round.” He tipped his head good-bye and jogged off down the pathway.

Sydney brought up the camera and snapped a photo. The result popped up on the screen. The sun shined muted rays through the bare tree branches so that it looked like Kenny was running toward some sort of heavenly light.

“Beautiful,” Sydney said under her breath. She still had room for fifty more pictures on the camera, and she couldn't wait to fill up the memory card.

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