Page 12 of Chasing Chase London: Part 8-Valentines Day
My hands ball into fists, but I turn and stomp away so I don’t lose my temper and punch the audacity out of the guy. He deserves it, but then he really would file a restraining order. Now I can see why Elaine dated him though. He looks just like a younger version of Ian, and unlike her new boyfriend, who actually seems nice, Nate is the spawn of Satan.
The place is starting to empty out when I finally find Daria at the mirror in the bathroom, wiping her eyes.
“Are youcrying?” I blurt out, then slap a hand over my mouth.
Good job handling the situation delicately, genius.
I was so shocked to see Daria brought to tears I didn’t think before I spoke.
“No,” she says, sniffling. She looks down at the black smudges on the ball of tissue she’s holding. “Yes.”
I pat her shoulder, since I’m not much of a hugger. “I’m sorry. I swear, I wouldneverdo anything with Colin.”
“You always say that about Chase,” she says, dabbing her eyes.
“And I never do anything with him, either,” I point out. “Besides, I don’t even like Colin. He’s kind of… Vulgar.”
She sniffs. “He is, isn’t he?”
“You deserve so much better.”
She pauses, then tosses the tissues, opens her clutch, and pulls out a tube of mascara. “It’s stupid to even care. I mean, he told me he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship.”
“You don’t mind?” I ask carefully.
I can’t believe Daria would put up with that. It’s so unlike her.
“Of course I mind,” she says. “But I can’t do anything about it, can I?”
“You could tell him you’re not going to see him until he can commit?”
She snorts. “He’d never agree to that. That’s the same as not seeing him at all. Eventually, he’ll realize I’m the only girl who will put up with all his shit and still love him.”
“Are you sure it’s worth all this?” I ask, my heart breaking for her as I gesture at her tear-stained face. She always acted so cool about guys, but her strategy is worse than Lindsey’s he-fills-the-hole-I-have-inside theory.
“It’s probably not,” she admits, her shoulders slumping. “But there’s that one percent chance that I’ll hit the jackpot, and he’ll fall in love. God, I’m like a gambling addict! What is wrong with me?” Tears fill her eyes again, and I grab some tissue from the stall and bring it to her.
“I get it,” I say, sadness rising inside me like a tide. “The heart wants what it wants. Welcome to hell.”
four
Now Playing:
“Daria”–Splendora
“What did you do to your hair?” Chase asks, a pained expression on his face as he stops at my locker on Monday morning.
“I got it straightened.”
“But I love your curls,” he says, still with the look.
I try to shake off the jittery feeling I get from being the focus of his attention.
“Your girlfriend doesn’t have curly hair,” I point out, trying to toss my hair over my shoulder like Daria. Weirdo that I am, I overreach and end up scratching my nail against my neck.
Note to self: Practice hair toss.
Chase catches my hand and tugs it down. “Don’t do that,” he says, looking genuinely pained now.
