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I drove to his apartment and banged on the door. He was slow to answer, and for a second, I thought he wasn’t home. When he opened the door for me, he hesitated, like he really didn’t want me coming inside.

“Why are you being weird?” I asked, pushing past him into his living room. “You’ve been distant all day.”

Mark scratched the back of his head.

“I’ve been busy,” he replied.

“Really? I saw you in the teachers’ lounge at lunch. You don’t ever eat in there,” I said.

“I needed a place to work without interruptions,” he said.

“Meaning interruptions from me,” I snapped, offended.

“From any of my students, Cadence,” Mark said patiently. “I’m behind with grading.”

I shook my head. “Behind with grading?”

“Yes.”

We stood in an uncomfortable silence until I spoke up.

“What’s really going on here?” I asked.

He paused for a brief second before answering.

“I can’t do this,” he said, not looking at me. It was cowardly, and he knew it immediately because he looked me directly in the face and repeated the words. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” My heart fluttered, bouncing about my chest without any rhythm.

“Cadence, we can’t do this anymore,” Mark said.

“What do you mean?”

“This,” he said, pointing back and forth between the two of us. “This thing we’re doing. It’s got to stop. I could lose my job. You’re my student. It has to stop.”

“I don’t understand. I thought everything was okay. I’m not pregnant. It’s okay.” My heart pounded.

“It doesn’t really have to do with the pregnancy scare,” Mark said. “Though that’s a part of it.”

“But you said it was fine—”

“It’s not fine, Cadence! You’re eighteen! You’re too young for me, and we’re in different places in our lives. Do you understand that?”

I flinched.

“Now, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I don’t want children. Ever. You probably do at some point. We have different goals and dreams. We have different values. You said that. Remember?”

I did? When?

“I’m sorry, but we just can’t make it work.”

“What do you mean? We’ve been making it work.”

“Cadence, this is too dangerous, what we’re doing. It’s unhealthy.”

“How is love unhealthy?” I asked.

“I . . . I don’t like losing control,” Mark said. “I feel like I’m always out of control with you. That’s unhealthy. And that pregnancy scare was what finally made me see it. I don’t like this person I’ve become. Impulsive. Emotional.”

“You mean human?” I snapped.

“No, Cadence. I don’t mean human,” Mark replied. “I don’t act this way. It’s not me. And it’s taking a toll. We’ve got to stop.”

“I want to be with you,” I whispered. The first tear fell.

“It’s impossible, Cadence. You’re eighteen. I’m twenty-eight.”

“I don’t care!”

“I care! It’s wrong. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

“You said you loved me,” I cried, sniffing and wiping my nose.

Mark sighed. “Cadence, please don’t make this harder.”

“
You
pursued
me
!” I screamed.

“I know.”

“You made me believe you loved me!”

“I do love you.”

“Then why are you doing this?” I sobbed. “Why are you breaking up with me?”

“Because it’s too hard, Cadence. It’s just too hard. And I think we’re hurting each other.”

“No we aren’t,” I argued.

“The fighting. The difficulties we face all the time just trying to see each other. The sneaking around. It’s too hard. I want a normal relationship. This isn’t it. It’s not the type of relationship I want.”

“Have the guts to say it!” I screamed. “You don’t want me! That’s what this is all about!”

“Stop it!” Mark shouted. “I’m not arguing with you! I’m tired of doing that! I love you very much, and I want you very much. And that’s why I’m ending this before something disastrous happens.”

What was he talking about “disastrous”? It was happening right now.

The throbbing in my chest moved to my hands. I reached out for him.

“Please don’t do this!” I cried.

“Cadence, don’t.”

I ran to him and flung my arms around his neck. “You love me! I know you love me!”

Mark hesitated before wrapping me in his arms. He squeezed me hard, knocking the wind out of me.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much. It hurts, Cadence. It hurts me.”

I gripped him harder. I thought if I showed him how desperate I was, he’d change his mind. It would seep from my limbs to his, and then he couldn’t break up with me because he’d be just as desperate for me.

Mark pulled back. I clung to him.

“Cadence, please let go.”

“I won’t!”

“Cadence . . .” Mark peeled my arms from his neck.

“Don’t leave me alone,” I choked.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t do this.”

I couldn’t hear any more. It was too painful. But I couldn’t leave either. I knew I wouldn’t be able to drive. I was crying uncontrollably, and my only thought was to hide myself away from him, so I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.

I sat on the floor and cried away my pain and fear. I was afraid. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of seeing him the following day. Afraid because I had lost my only real friend. It was August all over again, and I was starting school with no one in sight. No one to share anything with. No one who cared to listen to me. No one to spend time with. Just alone and frightened.

I focused on Avery. Maybe she was a friend. Maybe I wasn’t completely alone. Maybe all the time we spent together had actually grown a real friendship—not the fake one we played at earlier in the year. Maybe I could call her.

Maybe.

I looked at the time. I’d been in the bathroom for a half hour. I was tired and wanted to go home.

Mark was sitting on the bed when I opened the bathroom door. “Are you okay to drive home?”

I nodded.

“I . . . I realize you could ruin me,” Mark said.

I was shocked. “What?”

He averted his eyes. “I’m not asking you to keep quiet about this. You have to do what you feel is right.”

“You think I’d tell people about us as revenge? You think I’m that immature and spiteful?”

“No. I don’t.”

We stared at each other.

“Do you understand that I’m doing what I think is best?”

I nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Cadence,” Mark said softly.

I nodded. And then I turned to leave. It was automatic, my limbs moving, urging me towards the door, opening it, closing it, heading for my car. Turning the ignition. Putting the car in reverse. Backing out. Backing away. It was all automatic because the feelings were gone. I left them on the bathroom floor.

***

“Cadence?” Mom asked during dinner.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She glanced at Dad and passed the unspoken message. She was worried, but I didn’t know what to say.

“Cadence?” Dad asked.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you spending the night with Avery this Friday?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “What will you girls do?”

“Go to the mall.”

Dad chuckled. “I know you girls love the mall.”

I nodded.

“What else?” Mom asked encouragingly.

“Go to a movie.” I didn’t even know what I was saying. I just said stuff.

“Do you need some money?” Dad asked.

“No, sir.”

“Do you feel like passing out programs this Sunday?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Silence for a few seconds.

“May I be excused?” I asked. I was positive my parents would say no. They always said no whenever I asked for anything unless it had to do with Avery. I realized I should have said, “May I be excused so that I can go to Avery’s house?” I jerked my head up at Mom’s response.

“Sure.”

I thought if I stayed a second longer, Mom would change her mind. I bolted from the table for my bedroom. I crawled into bed and burrowed under the covers. I wanted to call him. I wanted to see him. I knew it was because I was eighteen. If I were thirty, I’d probably have more self-respect, or at the least, perspective. He kicked me out of his life, after all, and I didn’t want to react out of desperation. But it was torture not being able to talk to him. And for tonight, I wouldn’t pretend that it wasn’t.

***

The following day at school was the hardest of my life. Much worse than the first day. Even worse than my first day in juvie. I wandered the halls searching for Avery. I couldn’t find her anywhere and panicked. I learned later that she had the flu, and I was on my own.

Calculus was excruciating. I tried to focus. I really did. It’s not that I cared one bit about the material. But I needed to focus on it to distract myself, keep myself from crying hysterically. I glanced at Mr. Connelly just a few times, long enough to see that he had bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess. He sported a crooked tie and wrinkled shirt. He was a disaster, and I hoped his heart mirrored his appearance.

“Mr. Connelly? Are you hung over?” someone asked.

“What?”

“You’re all discombobulated.”

Good word
.

“I’m fine. Now back to the problem,” Mr. Connelly snapped, and no one mentioned his appearance again.

I usually ate lunch with Avery, so when she didn’t show up to school, I found myself back at the reject table. It was fitting. I was a reject. I had been rejected. Nicole and Riley knew something was up because they were nice to me. It was pathetic and sweet.

“Wanna split my sub?” Nicole asked as I stared at my lunch tray.

“Hmm?” I replied, looking up. My eyes swam with tears.

“My sub? Mom brought it for me,” she said.

It was a sub from Subway, and if I hadn’t lost my appetite all over again, I might have taken her up on her offer. It smelled divine.

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly.

I nodded and felt the first tear fall.

“Want my cookies?” Riley asked.

“No.”

They were acting like sweet little grandmothers, trying to soothe my hurt with the comfort of food.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.

I shook my head, tears streaming. “I’m just having a bad day,” I choked out, then left the table.

I decided I was going to be pathetic and immature because I earned it. But only once. My heart pounded painfully as I opened his classroom door. He looked up from his work, and I saw a slight shake of his head, a silent plea not to make a scene. That wouldn’t shut me up.

“You humiliated me,” I said, closing his door. “You hurt me more than anyone.”

He said nothing. I sobbed unabashedly.

“You used me,” I went on.

“I didn’t,” he said.

“You did,” I insisted. “You took advantage of me because I’m young and stupid!”

“I didn’t, Cadence.”

“Don’t say my name! Don’t ever say my name again!”

He was quiet.

“I hate that I have to see you every day. I hate that I have to be in your class. I hate that you hurt my heart and I can’t fix it.” I paused for a moment. “I hate you. I really really hate you.”

He winced. And then he went back to work. He was cold and heartless, and it made me rage inside. I didn’t know what I expected him to do or say, but I didn’t expect him to go back to his grading. My body moved even as my mind yelled, “Stop!” I thought I would hit him, but I didn’t. I stretched my arms far out in front of me and swept his desk clean. His soda, files, graded papers, ungraded papers, binders, books, laptop. All gone. All dumped on the floor in a messy heap, orange liquid leaking from the can staining papers.

He didn’t react, and I was glad for it. I walked out of his room, trembling from my actions and satisfied that I had the guts to do it. Only the tiniest pinprick in my chest signaled guilt over pushing his laptop to the floor. I’ve no idea why, but as I walked back to my locker, I wondered if I’d broken it and if he’d make me pay for it.

***

“Why?” Fanny asked as she set a cup of tea in front of me.

“You know I don’t like tea,” I said.

“It helps with heart matters, hon,” she replied. “Trust me.”

I didn’t argue. I plopped one sugar cube in my cup and poured in a generous amount of milk.

“He said we were in different places,” I said.