Page 123 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
When I round the corner and I’m still upright, it feels like an accomplishment, but then I realize I still have to face them.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Sebastian
It’s over. It’s ruined.
I fling over the exit door of the high school, and an alarm starts to blare.
Shit.
Well, they’re going to know I made it out of the building.
Incompetently, of course.
I can only imagine what Bryce is saying now. What jokes he’s making.
And Luke...
God.
He liked me. I was sure of it.
But how can he feel anything except disappointment and disgust now? What must Bryce be saying in my absence? Will Luke feel I manipulated him? Hosts aren’t supposed to go after dating contestant leads on their shows.
What was I thinking?
The world is blurry. A sea of gray that smudges together. Great. I’m crying. Hot tears prickle my eyes, and I blink, trying to keep them down. But my tears are soon falling, rolling down my carefully moisturized and well-maintained face, slashing their way down my cheeks with their salty drops that will leave everything red and swollen for hours.
I glower at the space around, at the grimy, falling apart buildings of Ashcove High that wrecked my childhood and have now managed to wreck my professional career.
People always say Hollywood is like a small town. A place where everyone knows everyone, or at least, knows someone who knows someone. How can I work in Hollywood, when people know everything about me is fake?
God, why did I even try? Why did I try to make something out of myself?
If I’d done that, I would have known my place.
I would have known to never attempt to do anything with Luke.
I stumble over the path toward the parking lot. Maybe I can get to my car, before the parking lot floods with the crew and producers.
I should have asked Luke to speak with Bryce before we met, but I believed he might not recognize me. I was operating on hope, and not intelligence.
Because a part of me wanted whatever was happening with Luke to continue on, to move forward forever and ever, even though I know that on Christmas Eve he will choose a woman, even though I know there can never be anything between us. Willow and Flora are both great people who probably were well-liked by their fellow students. Not everyone has a Bryce, because not everyone attracts a Bryce.
Maybe Bryce treated me unfairly, but he treated me that way because I am me. Of all the students in the school, I was the one who drew his attention. I was the one who didn’t fit in, who attracted his contempt. I wasn’t the only student without money. Bryce and Luke’s families were more lower-middle class than middle-middle class.
Maybe in my fantasies though Luke and I would still be together, and we would meet Bryce, and it wouldn’t matter because he didn’t recognize me. Maybe I could be Sebastian Archer at Thanksgiving and Christmas and birthdays. Maybe I could never have to be me.
My heart stutters, and my breath comes in those horrible little gasps. I am in the parking lot of my high school, an adult crying.
I fist my hands and glower some more, until the world is no longer blurry, until the high school is not a gray smudge on the dirty gray, slushy snow, until I can see the dismal gray expanse of sky before me. I head to the parking lot, the route icy and precarious. No one was supposed to use the exit I took, and it is clear no one kept it clear. They probably didn’t think anyone would be ridiculous enough to exit the school through the emergency exit, ignoring all the clearly marked signs.
God.
I can’t believe I did what I did.
It’s over. Over. Over.
