Counting on You (Amarillo Sour, #1) Page 20

  “Then you better come up with a plan, mate.”

  James made it sound easy. It was anything but that. Right now, it seemed even harder than rebuilding the app from scratch in a few hours. “Maybe I should send her a text. Wish her luck.”

  It seemed like the polite thing to do—the right thing to do after he’d been rude—but Sidney was shaking her head.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s breadcrumbing, which is about the worst thing you can do if you care about her or seriously want any hope at a future.”

  “Breadcrumbing?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you work at a hip start-up? Shouldn’t you be well-versed in Millennial speak as, ahem, a Millennial?”

  “Cut him some slack,” Ford said. “He’s a product guy. The programming and tech types don’t have to be hip with youth culture or lingo.”

  “And apparently you aren’t either if you’re using words like ‘hip.’ Nerds.” She rolled her eyes. “Basically, breadcrumbing is when a person strings along another person by giving them just enough to keep them hanging on without giving enough for a fulfilling or meaningful relationship.”

  “Oh, that’s the worst.” Ford shook his head. “Don’t breadcrumb her.”

  “I’m not. I won’t.” That’s not what he wanted to do at all. “I just want to reopen the lines of communication.”

  And didn’t that sound like something straight out of one of Haleigh’s dating advice columns? Still, maybe a text from him now would be the first step in resolving their issues. He didn’t like how they’d left things. No, that was only part of it. He missed her. He could admit that. It had been almost forty-eight hours since he’d last spoken to her. It felt like forever.

  So what if their relationship had started under less than normal conditions? That didn’t change what had happened between them—what had grown. It didn’t change what he felt for her. What he hoped she still felt for him.

  If only he’d realized all of that before he’d picked a fight with her, he wouldn’t be drowning his sorrows in a beer. He’d be with her—getting ready for the reunion. He should have realized all of that—and more—sooner. Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been looking for a problem. If he’d believed that someone as smart and brilliant and sweet as her could fall for a nerd like him.

  No one had ever infiltrated his thoughts at the oddest moments, distracting him from his work and everything else, the way she had. The possibility of losing that had made him freak out and, well, lose it.

  Maybe on some level he was protecting himself from rejection. She’d done nothing to deserve that—nothing besides love him—and he’d been a jerk. It had been the wrong thing to do to both of them.

  He only had one choice. He had to make it right.

  “Should I wait till tomorrow? Should I text her then and ask if she’d like to meet for a drink? A cup of coffee?”

  “Maybe.” Sidney chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment in thought. “It depends on what you want.”

  “What I want?”

  The professor sighed. “Bloody hell. Do you want to get the girl or not?”

  “I want to get the girl.” He cleared his throat. “I need to get her back, I . . . well . . . you know.”

  A slow grin spread across Sidney’s face. “Do you think she feels the same?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Then there’s no sense in waiting.”

  “What should I do?”

  Sidney leaned forward. “You need to run home, take a shower, and change into a suit. But first . . .”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I could go with you. Be your date.”

  It was the third time Dexter had offered, bless his heart. And for the third time, Haleigh was forced to say, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”

  And she would be. She’d decided as much. Besides, if she tried to swap out dates at the last minute, Nina would probably have a heart attack. Not that she wouldn’t deserve one.

  Haleigh still hadn’t quite forgiven the other woman. It might take her a while to get over the betrayal. If she could. The jury was still out on that.

  Nina had tried apologizing, but Haleigh hadn’t been ready for it yet. After she’d filled Dexter in on what had gone down, he’d run interference.

  It was why they were hiding out in his classroom while she emotionally prepared herself to enter the school’s gym, where her former classmates were already gathering.

  It was why he periodically sent death glares at the door when Nina’s face filled the window.

  It was also why he kept offering to be her date. Why he was wearing his best suit when he came to give her a pep talk. It was sweet of him, and she truly appreciated it. But after everything she’d been through, she had to do this on her own. She didn’t have anything to prove to Greg, Nina, or anyone else. She had to do it for herself.

  Even if she felt like her world had fallen apart.

  She thought she’d been successful at hiding how she was feeling. She’d taken extra pains when putting on the A-line black lace dress she’d selected for the evening. She’d only blinked back a few tears when she’d seen the emerald dress she’d worn to the launch party hanging next to it. Not everyone would call that a success, but she did. She’d even thrown on a new pair of ankle boots and watched a makeup tutorial to complete her look.

  When she’d left the house, she’d been almost positive her smoky eye was hiding her inner turmoil.

  Dexter cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Isn’t that all you do?”

  Ignoring her jab, he leaned forward. “It sounds like Ian didn’t know what was going to happen at the launch.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “I get that he still might be guilty by association, but . . . it seems like you could give the guy a break.”

  “Was there supposed to be a question somewhere in there?”

  “Okay . . .” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Let me rephrase. Why aren’t you giving the guy a break?”

  “Pass. Ask me something else.”

  “Come on, Haleigh. It’s not like you to write off someone like this. What did he do?”

  “He . . .” How did she put this? She’d been replaying that final conversation over and over in her head almost constantly since the other night.

  Almost forty-eight hours later, she still couldn’t quite put her finger on what exactly had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  She’d been upset about being the poster child for the evening’s launch party. Upset was an understatement. She’d been furious. Hurt. Embarrassed. Humiliated. Gutted. Broken. While he wasn’t exactly to blame for how it went down, wasn’t he still a little responsible? It was his stupid app and his stupid company. And he was the one who talked her into writing her desperate woman’s manifesto.

  Still, he’d been in the dark about how it was going to be used. He’d seemed genuinely angry about it too.

  He’d also told her she needed to get over it. Maybe not in those exact words, but close enough.

  It irked her that he was probably right. She did need to get over it. Not because it didn’t hurt that Greg had more ammo. Not because the world’s biggest gossip had her best scoop ever. But because their opinions really shouldn’t shape the way she saw herself.

  In hindsight, that was probably what he’d meant to say. He just hadn’t put it quite the right way. What did she expect? He wrote code, not poetry or even how-to manuals.

  That hadn’t been it, though. He wouldn’t tell her what had happened with his father. It was his business and his right, but what kind of relationship did they have if he wouldn’t share his fears and concerns with her, too? Plus, he’d been the one to bring it up in the first place.

  Nina would probably tell her that he was just being a dude, but Haleigh called B.S. on that. Just because Ian was a guy didn’t mean he was totally out of touch with
his feelings and emotions.

  It had taken her a while to confide in him the full extent of what had happened between her and Greg—and then, her and the rest of her high school world. She’d only told him because he’d caught her in the middle of a panic attack.

  She could admit, maybe she hadn’t been as open and forthright either. She could maybe give him a break on that.

  He’d called her crazy.

  Again, those weren’t his exact words. He’d said she was being crazy. Wasn’t that pretty much the same thing?

  He also hadn’t called or texted since. Never mind that she’d only sent him one text. But she’d been the injured party. The burden fell on him. Maybe if he’d tried to apologize, she would’ve listened. It shouldn’t have to fall on her to be the bigger person.

  The point was, they’d gotten into it. Badly. And when it was over, they’d both walked away. Neither one of them had been willing to make it work.

  “Irreconcilable differences,” she said at last.

  He guffawed. “That’s a cop-out answer if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the truth.” She shrugged. “When everything started to crumble, neither one of us tried to keep it together.”

  Dexter didn’t say anything, but he studied her closely. It was the same expression Jacob had on his face when she tried to help him solve for x. Only she was the unsolved variable, not the hypotenuse.

  “Thanks for the pep talk,” she said at last, pushing herself up from the table. “I should probably get this over with.”

  “Are you sure—”

  “I’m positive,” she insisted. “I’ll be okay.”

  She had to remind herself she was okay at least twenty times on her walk from the classroom to the gym. Even if she hadn’t already known the school well enough to walk the halls with her eyes closed, she would’ve been able to find it tonight just by following the music echoing from the walls. Nina had spent weeks creating a playlist of the greatest hits from the year they’d graduated. At this volume, it could have been almost any pop song from the era. The closer Haleigh stepped, the more she was able to distinguish the different beats and notes.

  It was the soundtrack to her late teens, and it took her back to the anxiety and pain she’d experienced.

  She paused at the entrance. It would be easy for her to turn around and walk back to her car. People were going to judge her either way. She might as well be judged from the comfort of her own bed.

  If she walked away now, they’d judge her for being a coward and a loser. If she went in now, they’d at least have to give her props for showing up.

  More importantly, she could give herself credit for being brave. In the long run, that would matter more than anything anyone else said or did.

  Standing straight, she took a deep breath, like her therapist had instructed countless times before. She let it out slowly and opened the door.

  The blaring music and flashing lights poured out, enveloping her with waves of nostalgia. Fighting them off, she stepped inside. A few faces turned.

  She made eye contact with a pretty auburn-haired woman who was once the awkward girl with bad acne from her chemistry class. It took the other woman a second to recognize her, but when she did, she raised a hand in greeting. Haleigh tried to discern if there was any mockery in the smile but came up short. Megan seemed sincere. She probably understood what it was like. From what Haleigh could remember of high school, people hadn’t always been too kind to Megan. The term “pizza face” had been throw out more than once.

  Losers had to stick together, sometimes.

  Then Megan whispered something to her friends, and in unison they turned to look. Haleigh braced herself for the inspection, but the roving eyes and interest in them still made her skin crawl. They turned back, huddling together in a poor attempt at concealing their snickering.

  So much for sincerity or a solidarity amongst the sisterhood of the outcasts.

  Nina chose that moment to pop out from behind her post at the check-in table. “You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “I paid for my dinner already.” Haleigh shrugged and pretended to be interested in a listing of all the state titles held by the school’s wrestling team.

  “I—I know you said you didn’t want to hear it yet, but I’m sorry. I have to keep telling you that, and I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.” Nina tugged Haleigh to the side of the bleachers that had been stacked for the evening to open up the gym for dinner and dancing. “I should have told you we were coming, but I thought it would be a fun surprise. Your chance to show Greg just how great you were doing now. I didn’t expect . . .”

  “Neither did I.”

  “It had to be awful for you. Beyond embarrassing.”

  “A whole bunch of people now know just how pitiful I am at dating. And that I had to go online for help, and it still didn’t work. Pretty pathetic.”

  Nina frowned. “I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

  “Oh, come on. If you’d found out I was dating men I met online, you would’ve laughed at me.”

  “I would not. My cousin met her wife online. That’s how my sister-in-law met her husband. It’s how people meet.”

  Haleigh hadn’t realized that. It was particularly strange given the rant Nina had gone on when Dexter suggested it, but Nina usually didn’t make sense.

  “You just have to be smart and safe about it,” Nina added, which explained the fear she’d put in Haleigh. “It sounds like you were.”

  “So, you wouldn’t have laughed?” Haleigh smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dress. “But how long would it have taken for you to tell everyone we know? Before it was posted on the reunion board? Before one of our co-workers ribbed me about it at FAC.”

  “I wouldn’t . . . Oh.” Nina blanched. “Oh.”

  It was apparently the first time anyone had told Nina she was a gossip queen. At least to her face. It should have been obvious. Then again, sometimes a person was the last one to see their own flaws.

  “You’ve always been one of my biggest cheerleaders,” Haleigh said. “But . . . I haven’t always felt like I could trust you. At least not with anything I didn’t want someone else knowing.”

  “I just . . . get excited. I don’t always think before I speak.”

  That was one way of putting it. “So when it came to this, I just couldn’t tell you. Not if I wanted to keep everyone in our class from hearing about it. That was the whole point of trying to date—to get everyone to stop looking at me like I was a freak. To stop talking about me like there’s something wrong.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  Haleigh gave a weak smile. The last person who’d said that to her had ended up crushing her heart.

  Greg and Stacy chose that moment to walk through the doors. An excited murmur fell across the room. Several pairs of eyes flickered her way. As much as she wanted to prove herself to everyone—to show them just how strong she could be—she wasn’t ready for it just yet.

  Grabbing her name tag with the imperfect curlicue, Haleigh skirted around the table. “I’m going to . . .”

  “Check out the bar?”

  Perfect. “Yes. I’m getting a drink.”

  Nina squeezed her hand and leaned forward to whisper. “You’re better than him. Trust me. After the other night, I’m convinced you picked the right guy.”

  That sent another pang to her heart. Haleigh would have to fill her in on that development later, but it could wait. Moving through the crowd, she pinned on her tag and nodded in greeting to people she recognized. She pretended not to notice their stares or how their heads lowered together, most probably to ask each other if they’d heard the latest developments of her sad life.

  The bartender filled her wine glass to the brim. At least Greg hadn’t skimped on the fully stocked bar. That was maybe the only thing he’d gotten right in the past decade. At least as far as she was concerned.

  Armed with her
wine, she turned and watched as a hundred of her classmates seemed to part, allowing a path for Greg to pass through. His wife followed at a close distance, like a royal spouse trailing the monarch. Both were headed her way while the rest of the room watched on in hushed interest. It was like a scene straight out of a teen movie, only it was even more ridiculous in real life.

  All they needed to complete the picture was someone to stand up and give an inspiring speech while the rest of the room broke out in a slow clap.

  There didn’t seem to be any takers. They were all too interested in the sure-to-be over-the-top scene about to play out in front of them.

  Haleigh’s heart raced. This was the moment she’d been anticipating—the moment she’d been dreading and fearing—since she’d heard about the reunion. It was about to happen. Perhaps not the way she’d imagined it only a few days ago, but it was playing out all the same. She just had to get through it, and she’d be okay.

  Wasn’t that what Ian had said? That it might suck, but she could and would get through it, and she’d come out the other side just fine. Suddenly, his words no longer seemed insensitive.

  Pulling her shoulders back once again, she braced herself for the moment of impact. Then she caught the smirk on Greg’s face. Fear transformed into annoyance, and she knew how to handle herself.

  “Haleigh.” The condescending way he said her name only stoked her annoyance. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

  “I RSVPed,” she said for the second time. “It would’ve been rude to be a no-show.”

  “No, but I think everyone would understand.” He patted her shoulder, though the perma-smirk on his face ruined his attempts at faking concern. “We wouldn’t want you to have one of your episodes.”

  “You mean my panic attacks?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “My panic attacks. The ones that started when I was in college, because I had anxiety but didn’t realize what it was. But don’t worry.” She mimicked his earlier gesture and patted his shoulder. “Thanks to some counseling and a lot of personal work, I’ve mostly learned how to live with them.”