Page 12 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

"What?" I sit up straighter. "Really? When?"

"Yesterday. Over text." He shakes his head, defeated. "We've been together for over a year, and she ends it with a fucking text message."

"That's cold." I pause, considering all the scenarios of why she would break up with him. "What did she say?"

"She dumped me because of you." He looks at me then.

Something twists in my gut––guilt maybe, that I'm somehow the reason. "Damn, that's ridiculous. She's always hated me, but that is…" I trail off, trying to put the pieces together.

"Yeah, well." Byron scrubs his face with his palms. "I need you to talk to her for me. Clear shit up or something."

I scoff. "Dude, she's not gonna talk to me. She probably broke up with you just to never see me again." The thought of that is ridiculous, but I'm probably spot on.

"I don't know what the big deal is here, Cade. She broke up with me over this bullshit. Your bullshit. You owe me. Please, just talk to her."

"Owe you for what? Your girlfriend's a psycho." I shake my head. "Sorry, man. You're better off without her. There's something seriously wrong with her if she'd throw away your relationship because ofme."

Byron's face hardens. "She's not a fucking psycho. You're bragging about cheating on Hannah, and she doesn't agree with what you did, or how you handled it. And you're my friend, so what the fuck does that say about me?"

I blow out hot air and shake my head. I take a moment to think, but my mind cannot wrap itself around it. How the hell am I responsible for their breakup?

I mutter, "This is getting complicated, and complicated is code for fucking crazy. She's mad because I cheated? What the hell is it to her?"

"You don't get it," Cade says, disappointed.

Oh, but I think I do get it.I snap, "I cheated on Hannah while she was fucking my brother." I catch a few eyes as people walk by. Just great. More shit for this campus to gossip about. "Things are fine now, but I don't understand howI'mthe reason for Saylor dumpingyou."

"Fuck it." He stands abruptly, grabbing his backpack. "I thought you'd help me since you've been crying nonstop about losing your girlfriend. Figured you would know how it feels and help me out."

Wow, he's really butt hurt right now.

"Hannah and Saylor are not the same," I say.

Byron shakes his head. "What the fuck's wrong with you?" He stares down at me. "I love her. All I asked was for you to talk to her. Smooth things over."

The raw pain in his voice makes me uncomfortable. I've never been in love, not really. Hannah was fun, exciting, but love? That's something else entirely.

"Then you need to talk to her," I say finally. "I'm probably just going to make shit worse."

He walks away, shoulders hunched against the morning chill, mumbling, "I just ask you for one fucking thing. Talk to her!" I watch him go, wondering if I should feel guiltier than I do.

My phone rings again as I'm heading to class––my mom. I debate letting it go to voicemail, but she'll just keep calling. I sigh, shaking my head.Shit.

"Mom," I answer.

"Cade Matthew Connolly, what is this I hear about you joining the hockey team?" Her voice is sharp with concern.

Of course. Sandy ran straight to mommy. "It's true. Had my first practice this morning."

"But your—"

"I'm fine. Have been for years." I cut her off, irritation rising. "Let me guess, Sandy called you?"

"He's worried about you. We both are. And your dad will be too once he hears about this."

"Right. Because you care so much about me." The bitterness seeps into my voice. "Where was this concern when I wanted to try lacrosse freshman year? Or track last spring?"

"That's different. Hockey is what injured you in the first place."

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