Page 26 of When Nothing Else Matters

I tell him most of the story, and by the time I pause, he’s staring at me in shock.

“I think I’m confused,” he says, now giving me his full attention. “Gemmatoldyou to choose between her and Summer, and you chose Summer.” His brows furrow in complete confusion.

“Kind of,” I lie. We broke up after having that exact conversation, but I’d driven to her door ready to break things offbeforeshe hit me with the ultimatum. Turns out, Summer and I weren’t the only ones that felt the change in our relationship. When those words had left her mouth, I felt sick. Gemma didn’t deserve any of this. Taking a deep breath, I’d remained calm despite Gemma being obviously pissed at me. She has every right to be annoyed that I broke up with her, but telling me to choose? Come on, that’s not right. I shake off my thoughts and look back at Joel.

“Okay, so you chose Summer. Why?” Joel prods for information.

“I didn’t exactly choose Summer; I was already planning to break up with her when she threw that at me,” I try to explain without actually being honest.

Joel squints at me in thought. “But you would have, right? You know Summer isn’t actually your best friend,” he states, and while it’s valid, it’s not the point.

“I know that, but Gemma doesn’t. Even though I was going to end it, it’s a pretty shit ultimatum,” I huff, getting myself worked up for no reason.

“You’re not wrong there,” Joel agrees while studying me closely. Here it is; here’s the analysis. He’s studying to be a child psychologist and can’t help but use me as a test subject, because yes, I can be a bit childish at times. A small smile plays on his lips when he says, “You have a thing for Summer.” It’s not a question. He thinks he’s stating a fact.

I fight back a cringe. “Nope,” I reply evenly, clasping my hands against my side so I don’t make any gestures that would suggest otherwise.

“Nope?” he repeats, skepticism written all over his expression.

Possibly.“That’s what I said.” I shrug.

“Okaay,” he drags out and then pauses. I wait for him to push the issue some more. He’s never been one to shy away from a conversation. I raise an eyebrow in question.Come at me, Joel…

“Can’t say I’m surprised you broke up. We are in the sweet spot,” he quips.

What the fuck?“What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice rises, back straightens, and I glare, ready to argue my defense.

Joel is unfazed. “All your relationships last between two and six months.” He shrugs, like that piece of information means nothing.

“That’s not true,” I argue, but a quick calculation in my mind proves otherwise. I deflate back into the beanbag. “Well, it’s not on purpose, anyway.”

Joel laughs. “Of course it’s not, it’s just your thing.”

“My thing?” I question and make myself comfortable, resigned to the fact that he could be right and he’s about to tell me why.

Joel spends the next few minutes diagnosing me as a serial dater. Telling me some people are players, some find theoneearly on, and some ignore it all completely. But me? Apparently, I love to date. I guess it makes sense. But man, I didn’t think it was a thing. I’m just trying to find my person, and once I realize the girl I’m with isn’t the one for me, I move on. That’s not a bad thing, is it? Better not to waste everyone’s time. I tell Joel as much, in defense, but it backfires.

He sighs, exasperated. “Except you are purposely self-sabotaging any chance you might have by always going for the wrong people.”

My brows furrow. “How do you figure that?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“Shall I list examples?” He rolls his eyes.

I laugh and shake my head. “Please do.”This should be good.

“Senior year. Viv. You started dating right before prom, knowing she was going away for college and that you had no interest in dating long distance.” He looks at me pointedly, his lips pulling into a thin line.

He’s got me there, but that’s only one…

“Freshman year of college. Amy. Everything was traveling along smoothly until you decided it wouldn’t work out because she wanted to live overseas and you didn’t. Even though we all knew this about her before you got together,” he continues.

Okay, two…

“Sophomore year. Emily—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Alright, I get—”

Joel continues as though I haven’t spoken, “Also, sophomore year. Britney—”

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