The Arrangement Anthology 2(149)

As I haul ass across the quad, my phone chirps. Don’t look at the screen. Don’t look at it! I chant to myself, but I can’t. I have to see what he said. It might be an apology. He might be breaking up with his other girlfriend and texted me by accident. Uh, wait. That’d be worse. I think.

The thing is, we’ve been together since we were kids. Our parents used to joke that we’d be married one day, as if it were meant to be. It even felt like fate brought us together. On the day we met, I was playing outside when a terrified bunny chased Matt the two blocks from his house to my front yard. Running blindly, Matt mowed me down, leaving me for the bunny to attack instead of him.

Okay, this bunny was the size of a small dog and had a hunger for marigolds. In an effort to save their gardens from becoming rabbit food, the sweet little old ladies in the neighborhood were actively trying to poison it. I saved that rabbit from the wrath of the grannies and my prize was Matt. He called me cool names like Rabbit Slayer. Okay, it sounded cool in grade school, and much better than the normal nicknames kids give each other. Boogerface or Rabbit Slayer? Please. Like that’s even a choice.

Matt and I have been together so long, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be apart. Now the unthinkable has happened and I’m two thousand miles from home, completely on my own. Matt is everything to me.

I pluck the phone from my pocket and scan the screen.

There’s this other thing…

Fuck. Like it could get worse. He already broke up with me. What’s worse than that?

I type back, I doubt it.

No, you need to know. There’s someone else. I’m in love with her, Kerry.

The prickling sensation hits the back of my eyes hard and fast. As I push through the door, I turn right and search for a bathroom. I can’t fake my way through this. I can’t sit here and pretend that he didn’t just rip my heart out. How can there be someone else? I was his and he was mine. We were a couple. I have his damned ring on my finger. We were going to give this long distance relationship thing a chance.

But Matt didn’t give it a chance.

A sob escapes my throat and my vision blurs. I race down the hallway, feeling the stares of strangers following in my wake. I can’t cry now. I’m trying so hard not to, but my heart won’t listen. It’s curling into a ball and shriveling inside my chest. Grief takes hold of me, but I’m not crying yet. I try to find a restroom, holding back the cascade of sorrow that’s building behind my eyes.

Plowing through the door, I head straight for the mirrors. There are always sinks by mirrors. I slam my books down on the counter and clutch the edge of the sink. Big gasping sobs wrack my body as I bend over the sink and stare at the white basin. Just as my tears start to fall, I see something move in the mirror. I feel eyes on me and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I hadn’t noticed anyone—not that I could see with my eyes full of tears.

Glancing up, I look across the room and don’t understand what I’m looking at. A guy is standing by the wall. He’s tall and toned, with dark hair and of standard build. At least, that’s what he looks like through tears. Why is he in the girl’s room? My brain is broken. I stand there and gape, not realizing that he’s holding his thingy in his hand and standing in front of a urinal.

A crooked smile lines his lips when he sees me staring. “I, uh, think you’re turned around.”

His voice doesn’t reach me. My body is in the middle of a full-fledged freak out and there’s a guy in the ladies room, peeing on the wall. What the hell kind of school is this? I keep blinking, but I can’t wrap my brain around what I’m seeing.

I manage to squeak out, “What?”

The guy zips up and gives me that pity look—you know the one. It says thank God I’m not you, in the nicest way possible. “You’re in the men’s room. The women’s room is down the hall.”

This can’t be happening. Horrified, I lunge for my books, but he steps to the counter to pick them up at the same time. We collide and his firm body smacks into mine. I stutter something incoherent, finally getting a good look at his face. Holy hotness! I never look at other guys, but once in a while someone that is supermodel perfect catches my attention. When people like that cross your path, it’s impossible to look away. His beauty is blinding, and even through tears I notice his sexy smirk, mildly amused blue eyes, and perfectly smooth skin.

Add in his hard body and holy crap. I smacked into the hottest man I’ve ever seen, stared at his package, and made an ass out of myself. I’m still upset, but so mortified at the same time, that I no longer think and adrenaline takes over. Heart pounding, I push off his firm chest and right myself. My mouth dangles open as I try to form words, but my balance sucks and my hip bumps the books. They topple off the counter and clatter to the floor, while the rest of my stuff slides into the sink for a swim. I can’t be this catastrophe. I can’t face this hot guy with raccoon eyes, unable to do anything but grunt at him like a baboon.