Page 60 of A Night to Remember

“Uh-huh,” I answer frankly, though I wonder how she knows that. Gretchen affects a little pout before turning to wander around the room. She lingers over my rock collection and reads the spines of the books on my shelf like she’s never been here before. She looks a little frayed, to be honest. Her makeup isn’t applied as precisely as it usually is, and she’s failed to conceal the dark circles under her eyes. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, which she only does when she’s stressed.

I suspect she’s here because she wants something and is waiting to ask as a kind of power play. But two can play at that game. I fold my arms and watch her silently.

“Are you going to the dance with her?” she asks finally.

“No,” I have to admit. “She’s serving for the caterer.”

Gretchen breaks into a snarky little smile. “Cute.”

I don’t dignify that with a response.

“You’ve got a wholePretty Womanthing going on here, don’t you?” she snarls. “A real Cinderella story. You get to rescue the poor little working girl and she?—”

“Stop it, Gretchen.”

“—gets to live happily ever after with Kentwood’s own Prince Charming. Is that it?”

I take a deep breath before responding. I know she’s being nasty because something is bothering her. Iknowthat, I know her.She would always pick fights in the weeks leading up to final exams; we had the second-biggest blow-out of our relationship on the eve of the interview for the internship where she met her current boyfriend. I learned to argue with her with one half of my brain while the other wondered how to help her unwind. But she’s insulted Kayla now, and I can’t stop anger from flooding both halves of my skull.

“Get out,” I growl. I start toward her, intending to chase her out of my room and out of my life. She takes a step back, eyes wide. Her expression softens as she changes tack.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, putting up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry, okay? I guess I’m just a little jealous.”

I stop a few feet from her, my conscience gnawing at me. There was no overlap between Gretchen and Kayla. But I hope very much, for her sake, that Gretchen has no sense of how often I thought of Kayla while we were together. I only looked for her online, after all, and never when Gretchen was home. Even if she had been, it isn’t that weird to look up old classmates occasionally, is it?

“Okay,” is all I can think to say. She looks me in the eye for a moment, then lets her gaze fall to my chest and the agate still in my hand.

“I know you always had a crush on her,” she says quietly.

“Shit,” I mutter, turning from her to pace the room. I rake my hands through my hair. Guilt pierces me like a lightsaber. My dad was right: I drove Gretchen away. I had no business dating her in the first place, much less asking her tomarryme. I caused an innocent person pain, and I will never be able to change that.

“I knew you were friends in high school,” she continues. “And I snooped around on your laptop sometimes. I know I shouldn’t have, but you could be so distant, and I thought?—”

“I was justcuriousabout her,” I interrupt apologetically, dropping back onto my bed. I feel desperate to excuse myself, though I know I should just own up to being a bastard. “She ghosted me after graduation, and it always bothered me, and I… I neverdidanything, I never contacted her, I never saw her at all until I moved back here last month. You should know that I never would have reached out to her while I was with you.”

“No, I know that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I just didn’t know what was going on with you. And I know I’m the one who actually cheated,” she adds bitterly. She bites one manicured nail, marring the red polish that she must have chosen to match her dress tonight.

I sigh deeply. “I understand why you did. I’m so sorry I wasn’t a better boyfriend,” I say, and mean it. Gretchen has a prickly exterior and a penchant for drama, but she isn’t a terrible person. I know she loved me. She deserves to be with someone who truly loves her back.

“You were thebestboyfriend—in a way,” she replies with a rueful smile. “You were sweet and considerate and completely dependable. I just never felt like I had all of you.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, because there isn’t really anything else to say.

“I miss you,” she says, coming to sit next to me on the bed. She takes my hand in hers. I feel guilty, so I let her. “Do you remember,” she begins, dropping her voice to a husky whisperand tracing the lines of my palm, “how we used to sneak down to the swimming pool in your apartment building, take off our clothes, and?—”

I leap off the bed and wrench my hand away. “Gretchen, what are youdoing? I’m withKayla. And what about what’s-his-name?”

“I dumped ‘what’s-his-name’ last month because he was a commitment-phobicbaby,” she shouts, jumping up to face me. “I came to Kentwood alone. Oh, Gabe, c’mon,” she pleads. “Go to this dance with me.”

“Sothat’swhat you want,” I mutter under my breath.

“Yes, okay? Is that so bad? My parents areappalledthat I don’t have a date. Do you know who they’re trying to fix me up with?Stan Hutchinson.”

“Wha— Ryan’s dad? Isn’t he?—”

“Married? Yeah, kinda? Apparently he and his wife separated and she’s been on a meditation retreat for, like, six weeks?”

“Plus he’s?—”

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