“I remember.” He offers a curt nod. “But I can’t do that.”
I purse my lips at that. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“I just feel like it’s going to be hard for us to be friends if I leave you alone,” he replies with a slight shrug, “ya know? How would that work?”
I freely scoff. “Who said anything about us being friends?”
“You did.”
Uhhhh…in what world?
“No, I didn’t,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes. “I never said anything about us being friends.”
Because, duh, why would I?
“Well, technically that is true,” he agrees, unfazed by my accusatory tone, “you never said anything about us being friends…but I’m pretty sure you did write it. Sound familiar?”
My stomach drops, and any appetite I had before is gone in an instant. This can’t be happening. He did not just say what I think he just said. There’s no way. Lora and I agreed that guys don’t remember stupid stuff like preteen breakup notes.
Maybe I should play crazy again!
Yeah, because that worked so well last time…
“I’ll see ya around, Feisty,” he drawls, now standing up. “Enjoy your lunch.” He throws me a wink before sauntering away from the table, and I just stare after him—completely dumbfounded.
Okay, so my life is over.
“Was that Brayden?” I hear Lora ask. “Where’s he going? He’s not sitting with us?”
“He remembers,” I tell her as she sits down across from me again. “He remembers the stupid note, Lora.” I widen my eyes at her. “That. Was. Not. Supposed. To. Happen.”
“Are you sure?” She gives me an unconvinced look. “Why do you think he does?”
I relay our conversation to her, still mentally panicking as my right leg bounces the entire time, and then I finish with a: “See? He remembers!”
“Correction, he remembers a certain part,” she states in a matter-of-fact way. “Just because he remembers you writing about being friends with him—which I still don’t understand why you did that, by the way—doesn’t mean he remembers every single thing you told him in the note.”
“Do you really think so, Lor?” I ask, allowing myself to feel a little hopeful.
“Of course,” she replies with a careless wave of her hand, “I mean…the odds of him remembering all that cringey stuff you wrote are ridiculously low, trust me.”
So why does it still feel like my life is over then?
Chapter 9: Classic Breakup Story
“Mom, are you sure about this?” I ask, watching as she throws her hair into an effortless ponytail. “Maybe it’d just be better if you talked to Hailee.”
“I’ve already talked to her,” she replies, grabbing her soccer mom tote bag, “and that’s why I think it’ll be good for you to talk to her. She needs to know you’re there for her, Megan.”
Cringe.
“And I totally get that, Mom,” I say, following her out of the kitchen, “but you do realize she hates me because of the no-dating-until-high-school-rule, right? I mean, you heard what she said last night.”
“Your sister does not hate you, she just…has very strong feelings about the dating rule.”
Sooooooo, basically she hates me.
“Ky-Ky!” Mom yells, walking to the front door. “Come on, baby, it’s time to leave!”
Why did I agree to this?
“Oh, and I haven’t forgotten about our little talk,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me, “so no worries…we can chat about it once I get back.”
“We really don’t have to, Mom,” I assure her with a forced smile. “Like I said, it’s all in the past.”
“Except, it’s not anymore,” she replies, wiggling her eyebrows. “I still can’t believe the same Brayden living next door, is the same Brayden you dated in middle school! How crazy is that?”
I hold back an eye-roll. “So crazy.”
“I’m ready to go!” Kyle announces, running into the living room. “Hey, Megan, did you wanna come too?”
“Megan is going to have some sister time with Hailee, Ky-Ky,” Mom answers for me, “but she can come to the next practice. Right, Meg?”
Are you kidding me? Isn’t it enough that I’m going to be sharing my practically nonexistent boyfriend experience with Hailee?
“Sure,” I answer dryly, “why not?”
I really need to get some serious hobbies, maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck doing sibling favors all the time.
“Later, Megan!” Kyle exclaims as Mom herds him out of the house. “Have fun with Hailee!”
When is this kid going to realize that “having fun” isn’t part of my everyday life?
Mom closes the front door behind them, and I let out a deep breath as I turn to face the staircase. I really don’t want to do this. But I’m going to. Maybe I should eat something first.
You just ate that yogurt ten minutes ago.
Dang it.
Okay, fine, you know what? Let’s just get it over with.
So, I go upstairs. Then, once I’m standing in front of her bedroom door, I curse myself for telling Mom that I’d do this.
The sooner you go in, the sooner you can get the heck out of there.
True.
I knock on the door a few times, knowing she probably has her earbuds in. “Hailee? It’s Megan.”
“No crap, you’re the only other person in the house.”
Well, at least we’re off to a great start. “Can I come in?”
“Whatever.”
I’ll take that as a yes.
I open the door at a somewhat normal pace, trying not to seem totally hesitant, and give her an awkward wave. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she echoes, not looking up from her phone. “What do you want?”
To leave.
“Uh, did Mom mention to you about us talking?” I ask, stepping farther into the room. “By chance?”
“Maybe.”
How helpful.
“Gotcha…” I trail off, tugging on the hem of my T-shirt. “Well,
