Page 143 of Come Break My Heart Again

“You don’t have to pretend around me, Elle.”

He’s wrong. He’s who I have to pretend around the most.

“I’m really sorry about your mom,” I whisper.

He sighs heavily. “Me too.”

“Good night, Ryder.”

I hang up and roll over. Fling the paper flower on the floor.

Goodbye has always felt like too small of a word when it comes to Ryder. Too minimal and inconsequential and common.

If seven years of silence wasn’t enough closure, I don’t think any one word will manage it.

I stare at the white spot on the hardwood for several minutes.

Scout loves to chew up paper. He’s in his crate downstairs right now, but he’ll start whining to go outside around six thirty.

I sigh before slipping out of bed and picking up the flower. I set it in the drawer carefully, slide it shut, then climb back into bed.

It takes me a long time to fall back asleep. By the time I do, my pillow is damp, and my cheeks are stiff with salt.

28

English ends with a reminder from Ms. Hill that our essays onThe Great Gatsbyare due on Friday. I shove my binder in my backpack, standing as soon as the bell rings.

“Are we meeting on Wednesday or Thursday?” Kinsley asks, falling into step beside me as we walk into the hallway.

“Wednesday, because we might have to meet Thursday too,” I tell her. “There’s still a ton to do before homecoming.”

“Clear entire after-school schedule this week. Got it.”

I laugh. “You’re the best VP ever.”

Kinsley grins. “I know. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“See you,” I say, then head for my locker.

I pull out my phone as I walk, disappointed there’s no new message from Ryder. Hopefully, that doesn’t mean he’s feeling worse and won’t want me to come over later.

I miss him. I haven’t seen him since I showed up at the garage on Friday night and that evening was tainted by what happened with Archer. Saturday was overtaken by volunteering with my mom, and yesterday was a long day spent touring college campuses.

I reach my locker, swapping out the textbooks and binders in my backpack for the ones for my afternoon classes. I’mstruggling to zip my bag back up when I spot Keira and Juliet walking toward me.

“Hey,” I greet them, tugging harder at the zipper. I overfilled my backpack, but I need everything in it.

“Did you hear?” Keira asks me.

“Hear what?” I ask. The zipper finally cooperates, closing. I smile triumphantly.

“About Ryder.”

I glance at Keira, confused by the worried look on her face. Juliet appears uncharacteristically somber as well.

“That he’s sick? Yeah, he texted me earlier.”

Keira shakes her head, her expression turning sympathetic. “No. That cops showed up to the trailer park. I can’t get ahold of Tuck—he left as soon as he heard the rumors.”

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