Page 68 of Don't Hate the Player
“Hey, Lia,” he replies quickly. I’m the one who has to do something hard here, so why does he look nervous?
“I have to tell you something,” I try to start again. That seems like a marginally better way to begin than “we need to talk,” which gives even emotionally well-adjusted people palpitations.
“I actually have to tell you something too,” he says. He swings his feet off the couch to make room for me, but hell if I’m putting my butt where his shoes have been. Maybe it’s because I come from a shoes-off kind of household, but people putting things that touch outside dirt on indoor furniture make me want to gag.
“Okay. Do you want to go first or should I go first or . . . ?”
“I’m quitting Penny’s campaign.”
The first thing that comes into my head is Penny’s encouraging face telling me to dump Connor for myself. Buddy, I’m here to disappointyou; you’re not here to throw my best friend’s campaign into a bonfire.
“Were you planning on telling her that?”
What is she going to do? The election is right after Round 3, and the window for ballot changes ends . . . ?Shit, that’s today. That’s why he’s telling me now. He probably thinks it’s a courtesy to tell his girlfriend before he ruins her best friend’s chances at being class president.
“Not yet. I was hoping she’d be in the library, but, like, everyone left a few minutes ago.”
That might be because Matt sabotaged the popcorn machine in the student lounge to massively overload and texted everyone but Connor about it. I wanted an empty library for the conversation and he made sure I got one.
“Well you’d better tell her soon because the deadline for swapping anyone out is, like, now.”
“Yeah, I know. I just got back from Klein’s office.”
“What were you doing there without Penny? You need your candidate to make any changes to the—Oh. Oh. Seriously?” He has got to be kidding me. I know what this is about. Connor can see I’ve caught on and doesn’t look nearly as ashamed as he should. “Klein let you switch to Audra’s ticket when Penny wasn’t even there. What did you tell him, that she’d booted you off or that she already had paperwork to make her own switch?”
“Honestly I don’t know what Audra told him, but I’m with her now. On the ticket.”
Hmm, nope. I’m not buying that. Between the furtive texting, the last-minute backstabbing, and everything I know about Audra and Connor, this isn’t just politics. It never was.
“That’s not completely true, is it? You’re with her, period.”
“Do you want me to be?” He means it as an accusation, but I’m stunned because it’s the first time Connor’s ever asked me what I wanted. “’Cause I don’t think you care.”
Well, no. I definitely care that my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend is dicking over Penny’s class president campaign because he’s pissed at me, if that’s what’s really going on here. I also care that Connor leaving me for Audra means that spoiled witch wins our incredibly stupid boyfight, but there’s brighter things on the horizon for me and I could be persuaded to forgive, especially if I get to wipe away my tears with the pages of my Wizzard contract.
“This shouldn’t be about me. You’re abandoning Penny a week before the election.”
Connor rolls his eyes. “I thought joining her campaign would mean we’d get to hang out. You’re, like, constantly running away from me. I never see you. We have lunch sometimes, but your head is, like”—he waves his phone-free hand in the direction of the window beyond the bookshelves—“way out there somewhere. I can’t even talk to you; you ignore all my calls—”
Step 2 is not going according to my plan. Don’t get me wrong, but at the end of this Connor and I will for sure be broken up. I just thought it would be calmer. More adult. With 99 percent less me telling him how I’ve actually thought and felt about him for the past two months, to my own detriment. Can’t put the cork back on now, though. Connor, let’s rock.
“Who calls people, Connor? I’m sixteen! I answer the phone for my grandpa in Vieques and the pizza guy, and that’s it! It’s weird that you do that! I want you to acknowledge that it’s weird.”
“I was just trying to be a good boyfriend! Sorry for doing everything right when you don’t appreciate anything ever.”
“I’d appreciate everything more if you asked if I wanted it first! You kept pushing your idea of a good boyfriend on me without asking what I like or if I’m comfortable with you, I don’t know, showing up outside my car every day with coffee I hate and walking me across the parking lot like a poodle.”
“You never said anything! How the hell was I supposed to know?”
He’s got me there. I didn’t tell Connor about my boundaries because I was sure I could keep them up all by myself. I let him throw himself against a wall for two months instead of telling him to stop or that there was an easier way of getting through. There’s no dimension where Connor and I make a good couple, but there’s hopefully at least one where I get better at communicating my needs.
I have been so focused on being one step ahead of everyone else. I thought it would protect me, but staying one step ahead only means no one can walk by my side. No wonder I underestimate people, up to and including my best friend and my boyfriend. And Matt and Jake. God, who’s next?
“You’re right,” I sigh. All the fighting energy deflates from me when I realize he has a point. It’s not a good enough reason to ditch Penny, but I may as well let Connor have this. “I didn’t talk to you about it because, well . . . ?I didn’t want to. You werewaytoo much, and I shut down because it was easier to avoid you than put any effort into making this a real relationship. Now it’s over, I guess.”
Connor swivels on the couch to resume his lounge, complete with his feet on the cushions. If he’s upset, he’s hiding it behind a facade of not caring about anything, which is exactly what I deserve. I did the same thing to him.
“Yeah, it’s over. You’ll see Penny before I do; go ahead and tell her,” he says. His bored voice and his pouty voice are the same, and as bad as I feel for not giving Connor a chance, I don’t want to give in to his feigned nonchalance. I’m done pretending not to care.
