Page 10 of Come Break My Heart Again

The three of us have been best friends since kindergarten. They know most of the ugly truths about my relationship with my parents. They held my hands at Rose’s funeral. They helped pick out my junior prom dress for my first official date with Archer. And they’ve spent enough time around the two of us as a couple to see past the pretty facade the rest of the school reveres.

“Oh, guess what else I heard,” Keira says. She forges ahead without waiting for any predictions. “Ryder James is back.”

I drop my coffee, my numb fingers going slack with shock.

“Elle!” Juliet screeches as she jumps away from the icy spray.

My shins are soaked, chilled coffee running down my bare legs in tiny streams. I can’t feel it.

“Sorry. Wet cup—cold hands—slipped.” I stumble through an explanation neither of my friends is listening to.

Juliet has already pulled out napkins, dabbing at her shorts before passing a few to me.

“Thanks.” I bend down to wipe the coffee off my legs, my head spinning so fast that I feel dizzy.

There’s a muffled roar in my ears that drowns out most of the commotion around us. Heat radiates off the blacktop, but my skin burns hotter.

Today was supposed to be predictable. He was supposed to stay gone.

“Nice, butterfingers,” Keira teases as I stand. “Good thing you’re becoming a lawyer, not a surgeon.”

My nod is wooden as the first bell rings, signaling five minutes before homeroom. Streams of students start toward the front entrance.

“Let’s go!” Keira says, striding ahead.

I trail behind her, and Juliet falls into step beside me.

“What were you saying?” I suck in a deep breath as we walk inside the air-conditioned lobby and continue down the locker-lined hallway, my eyes darting around the familiar sight. I’ve spent more of the past three years inside this building than my house. “About Ryder James?”

It’s a thrill to say his name. It also sounds wrong, like a secret spoken aloud.

“Oh. Maddie said she saw him with Tucker and some of the other Twos at Robinson’s last night. He left after freshman year, remember?”

Remember?I’d need a severe case of amnesia to forget.

“Maybe,” I say instead. “Is she sure it was him?”

Fernwood is a very wealthy town. The Twos are the kids from the trailer park that sits on the far edge of the town limits. An invisible boundary line many residents—including my parents—have attempted to redraw in order to exclude anyone with that address from attending Fernwood’s public schools, which are considered some of the best in the state. Attempted unsuccessfully. The best they could do was alter the zip code so that one section of town is 02612 instead of 02611. An invisible geographic line that extends inside the school. The Twos keepto themselves. That includes Ryder James, who moved to Fernwood at the start of high school and left at the end of freshman year. I doubt Maddie Peterson ever spoke to him, much less knows what he looks like after two years.

Keira shrugs, unconcerned and unbothered. Entirely oblivious to the way my heart is banging against my ribs. “She said it was him.”

My lips press into a thin line as we continue down the hallway, chatter bouncing off the lockers. Juliet and Keira pull out their schedules to compare teachers. I walk in a daze, too stunned to reply to any of the voices calling out greetings to me.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t still think about Ryder sometimes.

But it’s the absolute truth that Ineverexpected to see him again.

Juliet and Keira follow me into Mrs. Andrews’s room. Neither of them is actually assigned to my homeroom, but no one cares. I’d say it’s a perk of being seniors, but it’s really just a perk of beingus. Or me, rather. No one reprimands Elle Clarke. I’m deemed innocent before ever being found guilty.

The loudspeaker crackles to life to share the morning announcements, but the noise level in the classroom barely drops. Mrs. Andrews doesn’t make any attempt to quiet students, just continues to write notes for her first class on the whiteboard.

I grab the restroom pass off the hook and head down the hallway that’s now empty. The ladies’ room is also still and silent, thankfully. The plastic pass hits the laminate counter with a quietthunkwhen I reach the sinks. I wet a handful of paper towels, wipe my legs of coffee residue, and then toss the wad of wet paper into the trash.

I clutch the edge of the counter, focusing on deep inhales and long exhales as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The loose curls in my hair have held, and there aren’t any coffee stains onmy new dress. But there’s a stubborn wrinkle between my eyes that won’t smooth, no matter how hard I try to relax my face. It remains, worried and willful.

Maddie’s wrong. She must be. A guy from the trailer park probably had a friend visiting who tagged along to the local diner, and that’s who she saw at Robinson’s. Maybe his name is also Ryder, and that’s why she thought it might be him.

Because why wouldhebe back aftertwo years? Someone said he moved to Florida.

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