Page 21 of Broken Hearts

“I’ll be there,” I reply, my gaze fixed on the building across the street. The real reason for my visit isn’t Dad or even Mom. It’s her. I know she will go see her dad, and I’ll be there too.

“Oh… good.” He probably expected a fight like the one we had last year. My first year has been chaotic; I know that. I realize now that it was my way of grieving my relationship with Eva without admitting it to anyone, especially myself. I have hurt my mother more than I care to admit, albeit accidentally, but she never deserved that.

“Hey, while I have you on the phone, I was wondering what you know about the Sinclairs,” I ask, trying to sound casual. My fingers drum against the steering wheel, betraying my eagerness.

A heavy sigh comes through the phone. “What did you do now? Should I brace myself for another scandal? How much money will it cost me this time?”

I wince, feeling the familiar sting of his assumptions. “It’s not about a scandal. I told you, Dad, the baby wasn’t mine. You saw the test results yourself. Don’t be like that.”

“We did all the checks on Mark Sinclair. You know we’ll never let anyone in Crescent Academy without a background check worthy of the CIA. He’s a clean and decent man. Why are you wondering about him now?”

“What about his daughter? She disappeared for a year.”

“Why are you interested in his daughter?”

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “What’s the harm in knowing more about her?”

There’s a pause, long enough for me to watch a couple stroll by, laughing in their own blissful world. “Cole”—his tone grows stern—“stay away from Evangeline Sinclair. I mean it.”

Sneering at the warning, the question slips out. “Why? She’s not good enough for the Westbrooks?”

“On the contrary,” he replies, and I can almost hear the shake of his head. “I think she might be too good for you.”

His words hit home, echoing a truth that’s hard to deny. Eva is different, special in a way that’s hard to pin down.

“Just like Mom is too good for you.”

“Yes, exactly like that,” he replies, and I’m surprised that he agrees so easily. “But the main difference is that I make her world a better place; you most likely won’t.”

That stings, particularly as doubts begin to surface. Her breakdown in the rage room rattled me far more than I’m ready to admit, and getting drunk didn’t help ease the guilt.

Thoughts turn to my mother, the quirky, extraordinary woman my father adores, whose presence fills our home with a unique warmth. I had wanted Eva to meet her, to share a piece of my world that I hold dear. My mother would have loved her, I’m sure of it. I can still picture it, my mother being the maternal figure that she lacks and Eva being the daughter my mother always craved. It will happen; it has to.

“Cole?” The warning in my father’s voice is clear.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Stay away,” I reply absentmindedly while keeping my eyes on her building. “I’ll talk to you later, Dad.”

“Call your mother!” he adds before I hang up.

The thing is, my girl has always been a model of rationality and cool, and that version I saw in the rage room broke my heart far more than anything. She’s not a drama queen, and I understand now what I refused to hear that night in her room. It’s about far more than just the stupid, cruel prank I pulled on prom night. It has to be. She isn’t weak. I need to know what she thinks I did. Getting closer to her is the only way to find out, and she’s not at all receptive.

The memory of prom night haunts me now. She had the brightest smile when she exited the car, and when I saw it fade after my cruel words, I regretted it almost immediately. My pride was wounded; she had refused to help me cheat and spilled my secret. I wanted revenge, or so I thought.

Twenty minutes into the ball, with Jenny hanging off my arm, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I should have at least talked to Eva, let her explain. So I walked out, only to find she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t. What did I expect? That she would hang around waiting for me? So I played my part as Cole Westbrook for the rest of the night, but my mind was elsewhere.

Instead of joining the after-party, I drove to her house, my heart a jumble of hope and anxiety. The house stood dark and empty, which was weird, since Coach rarely left his house in the evenings. I waited for hours, each minute stretching out endlessly, but she never showed. Coach was nowhere to be found either. And that was it; I’d never seen her again.

An overwhelming sense of loss overtook me then. It was more than just confusion; it was a deep, gnawing pain, a kind of despair I hadn’t anticipated.

It was as if this one misguided act was enough to erase all the good we had. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss—it felt like they were being pulled away from me, leaving behind a void that I couldn’t comprehend. I felt abandoned, irrationally so, as if her disappearing was a deliberate act to tell me I wasn’t worth an explanation, not even worth a chance to make things right between us.

Looking at the photo on my phone—the math test from the box, evidence of her cheating for me. I refocus as Eva exits her building. My plan is petty but necessary. Her car won’t start; I’ve seen to that, but I need her to need me. She’s not ready to talk like an adult.

And you are? The voice in my head taunts me. You’re too intense every time you see her, too brutish.

I know I am, but it’s like I lose control when she’s around, like I’m more animal than man, and all I want is her by my side. It’s not a side of me I particularly like, but I can’t control it with her. The more she fights me when I try to be civilized, the more I slip, resorting to conniving methods, at least for the time being.

She gets in, and I smile as I see her mutter under her breath. I don’t know what Shane messed up in her car, but it seems to be doing the trick.

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