Page 36 of Good Girl

“I was out late,” I replied, “studying. Finals are coming up faster than you’d think, and I was just trying to get ahead. Haley is just a... a worrier.” Or she was stirring the pot, which wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Deciding on a bag of pasta, I snatched it from the shelf and dropped it into my basket then continued my path down the aisle.

“I’m not sure I believe you, Charlotte. Being at that place is a bad influence on you.”

“Listen. I’ll be home this weekend and you can see that I’m fine. You can check my arms for needle marks, my breath for alcohol, and everything that would make you feel better, but Mom... it would be great if you trusted me for once. With myownlife and my own decisions.”

“Oh, Charlotte.” My mother chuckled wryly. “You’re not savvy enough to know when you’re making the right decisions.”

A stabbing pain shot through my chest at her words, and I bit my lower lip firmly to control the familiar rush of upset that followed. My mother had such alovingway with words.

“If you say so,” I replied hoarsely. I turned the corner into the next aisle and suddenly slammed into the tall form of a man. He grunted in surprise. I yelped and stumbled backward, only for his hand to catch my arm and jerk me upright.

“Charlotte?” came my mother’s concerned bark, but I barely heard her as I looked up to see who I had walked into. The apology died on my lips as recognition swept through me.

“Sorry, Mom, I’ll have to call you back,” I murmured, then I hung up the call. “Jonathan?”

My ex-boyfriend, Jonathan Hughes, stood in front of me and adjusted his glasses that had been set crooked from the impact. His wiry black hair had grown longer since the last time I had seen him, yet his wire frames and thin, twisted smile were exactly the same.

“Charlotte!”

“What... what are you doing here?” I gasped softly.

“What do you mean?” Jonathan frowned. “I’m shopping. It’s what people tend to do in a shop like this.”

“I mean in thecity,” I insisted. “You don’t live out here. Do you?” I was struck by the sudden sickening thought that Jonathan had moved out here, and the thought of having to change grocery stores just to avoid him filled me with dread.

“No, no, I was just...” Jonathan trailed off, and suddenly, he flashed that trademark toothy smile at me. “It’s good to see you, Charlotte.”

“The last time we spoke, you called me a cunt,” I snapped, and heat flared across my cheeks.

“You were being one,” Jonathan shot back in that familiar cold tone.

“For wanting to cut you loose because you always made me feel like shit?” Old wounds were close to reopening, and seeing his face again ignited all the painful bad memories of our time together. Too often, he would find a way to trap me and try to shove his hands in places I hadn’t wanted them. Too often, we would end up arguing because the wordnowasn’t in this asshole’s vocabulary.

“Not how I remember it.” Jonathan smiled easily. “But whatever, it’s good to see you. You look...good.”

I straightened my stance, and an uncomfortable reflex had me tightening the muscles of my abdomen. I clutched at my phone and the handle of my basket, then wet my lips.

“So do you. Well, if you don’t mind—”

I started to move past him, but Jonathan quickly sidestepped to be in front of me.

“Really?” He flashed those grey eyes at me, and my heart skipped a sickening beat.

“Really what?”

“You think I look good?”

Oh, God. “Jonathan, I was being poli—”

“Because you know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Charlotte.” Jonathan carried on talking, oblivious to my own words, but that was common. “I miss you. And what we had. It was really great, don’t you think? And I feel like enough time has passed that I can forgive you for your attitude.”

Heat flashed up my spine, and I tightened my grip on the basket. “Myattitude?”

“Yeah!” He tilted his head to the left, and his glasses slid an inch down his nose. “You were caught up in going to college. That can make anyone act crazy.”

“I wasn’t actingcrazy, I was—”

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