Page 58 of How We Fooled

“Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?”

I drop my head back on the headrest, staring up at the ceiling. “Say anything. Fuck, I don’t know. You can’t just leave me hanging here.”

Nothing. She says not a goddamn word.

“Liza …” My tone turns a little harsher. Not on purpose, but I honestly don’t know what to do, and it’s frustrating the hell out of me.

“What, Eli?” Her tone matches mine, and it’s the first time I’ve heard her voice raised even the slightest bit. “What? Do you want me to say that my heart was literally ripped out of my chest when I saw you today? Do you want me to say that I physically can’t breathe while I’m sitting on the phone with you right now because this is the most painful situation I’ve ever been in, in my life? Is that what you want to hear?”

I pause, taking in every word she just said. Though it kills me to hear how much pain she’s in, I somehow feel better, knowing I’m not in this alone.

“It’s a start,” I finally respond, making her let out a harsh laugh.

“Fuck, Eli. I don’t know, okay? I really don’t know what to do.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her cuss, and it’s the cutest thing even though it’s said in frustration.

“I can’t lose you, Liza. I won’t survive …” My voice trails off.

“Me neither.” The obvious sadness in her voice is like a punch to the gut to me.

“We couldn’t even make it through one day. How are we going to make it through ten months?”

“I don’t know.”

And there it is. She doesn’t know either. I don’t know why, but that alone gives me comfort. Knowing she at least feels the same way about us helps in some twisted kind of way. Misery loves company, right? At least we’ll be miserable together, yet apart still.

I hear honking around me and turn to see Ben pulling up beside me. Thankfully, he can’t tell that I’m on the phone since it’s connected through my Bluetooth in my truck.

“Hey, Ben just pulled up beside me. I got to go.”

She doesn’t say a word, just hangs up. I close my eyes, knowing the thought of Ben even seeing that I’m talking to her must have terrified the shit out of her even though he doesn’t have a clue who she is.

Ben holds up his hands, like he’s asking if I’m okay, so I roll down my window.

“You good?” he asks.

I guess if I was going to pull over in a parking lot, I should have at least tried to blend in and not park in the first spot, farthest from the stores and facing the road.

I squash my entire conversation down and hold up my phone, waving it back and forth. “Yeah, just talking to a college coach,” I lie.

“Right on.” He tilts his head toward the strip mall. “I’m about to grab a bite to eat. Want something?”

I nod. Hanging out with Ben might actually help get me out of this shithole inside my head. “Yeah, sounds good.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Liza

I got my class rosters today, and there he was, in my second-period class—Eli Jones—his name staring at me like a glaring neon sign of temptation.

Of course he’s in my class. I’m teaching Econ, and he’s a senior. I hoped he’d have Government first semester to give me time to adjust, but no such luck.

Though I don’t know Dalton’s last name, I see I have a Dalton in the same class and can only assume he’s the same guy with a name like that. Knowing he’ll have such a close friend in the class somehow makes me even more nervous.

What if he’s able to pick up on things that others might miss? Can I really have him sitting in my classroom every day and not completely lose my shit?

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