Jealousy (2 page)

“Lauren, I'm sorry,” Taylor said. “I shouldn't have—”

I was lost in a swirl of thoughts centered on Drew: How was I going to explain this to him? Who made a mistake like this? Would I lose Drew?

I closed my eyes for a second, screaming at the thoughts to evaporate. I had to pull myself together and focus on Taylor first.

“Stop!” I hissed. “I am
not
going to let this ruin my birthday party—the one that my friends worked so hard on and
you
just crashed.”

Taylor's head jerked back a fraction.

“If you want to talk, we're not doing it here,” I finished.

I turned away from him, stepped around the dark-brown carriage that was covered in twinkly lights. When I'd seen the carriage, I'd imagined it taking Drew and me down the trail that Lexa had decorated and described as “romantic
and
spooky.” The next carriage ride might be taking Taylor to Union.

I walked to a bench that was far enough away from my Halloween-slash-birthday masquerade party. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples and probably ruining my makeup. Khloe's surprise—a professional makeup artist
for us—felt as if it had happened days instead of mere hours ago. Khloe, Cole, and all of my other friends were inside dancing, eating, and playing games.

It felt as if I'd seen everyone but Drew tonight. I crossed my fingers that he was inside and hadn't bailed. It
was
a confusing scene, thanks to the masks. I hurried, hoping Drew or anyone else wouldn't see me leaving with a guy. More than anything, I hoped Drew hadn't witnessed The Kiss.

I shivered in the chilly late-October air as Taylor approached the bench. My light-pink dress with spaghetti straps didn't offer much warmth. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let Taylor see that I was cold—it felt weak. We'd known each other for almost two years, and I'd never been this upset with him. Maybe not with anyone. My teeth chattered, betraying me.

“Even though you're mad, please take my coat,” he said.

Without a word Taylor slipped off his jacket and held it out.

“Fine,” I said, my tone as cold as I felt. “Thank you.”

I took the black suit jacket from him and slipped it on. I'd never felt so many things at once.

Anger.

Confusion.

And . . . happiness? I had to be confusing serious fury with happiness, because there was
no
reason, not even the tiniest one, for me to be happy right now.

Taylor perched at the opposite edge of the bench and turned to me. We just looked at each other. He hadn't changed since I'd seen him only a few short months ago. His cropped blond hair was still bleached from swimming, and his tan and few freckles had faded a little. It was almost like a dream—a very
strange
dream.

“
What
are you doing here?” I asked. The words exploded from my mouth. “You're not a student! How did you get on campus? Why didn't you tell me you were coming to my birthday party? Do Ana and Brielle know? Why did you
kiss
me? Why? We're broken up! You can't show up at my school and do that!”

I stopped, realizing that I was yelling. I didn't want any attention drawn to us. I needed to talk to Taylor before any of my friends found out.

Taylor rubbed the back of his neck—something he did when he was nervous. “Lauren, again, I am
so
sorry,” he said. “I had this idea that it would be a huge surprise to show up on your birthday. I missed you.”

His last sentence caught me off guard and forced me to take a breath before responding.

“I missed you, too,” I said, my tone still clipped. “That doesn't mean I'd ever crash a dance at Yates and kiss you. Taylor . . .” I shook my head.

“I shouldn't have done that,” Taylor said. “You're right—we're broken up and I didn't consider your feelings at all. I should have talked to you about it first.”

“I really wish you had—we're
friends.
I'm not your girl-friend. You know you should have talked to me before showing up here.”

I rubbed my forehead. A headache was forming over my temples. I thought of Drew. Drew Adams—the
très
cute rider and guy I'd been going out with. I'd wished on every star in the sky that Drew would kiss me for the first time tonight. Now I was sitting in the cold with Taylor.

Tay and I'd had the best breakup possible after dating for five months. We'd managed to stay friends. He wasn't a
friend
like Ana or Brielle—my friends from home. As if I'd talk to him about boys! Way too weird. We'd never talked about our current relationship statuses, so he knew zero about Drew.

Taylor paused. He ran a hand over his hair. I could still smell the faintest hint of chlorine from his endless hours in the pool. “We are friends. But, Laur, I came here to see if there's a chance that we could be more than that.”

The hopeful look on his face made my stomach hurt a little.

“Taylor, why are you doing this?” I asked. “You're at Yates. I'm at Canterwood. We
both
agreed on breaking up and fresh starts for both of us. Long distance isn't something either of us wanted. Want. And I . . .” I shifted on the bench.

Apparently, my birthday was going to have celebration
and
confession. Mine was going to hurt Taylor, but I couldn't let him think we had a chance at getting back together. I hated that I was about to hurt him—no matter how mad I was.

“Laur?” Taylor asked.

“Taylor, I'm sorry. You deserve to hear the truth from me. I like someone here. We've been on a few dates, and I want to keep getting to know him.”

I half closed my eyes, staring at him. Taylor didn't say a word, but I knew him well. Too well for him to hide the shock, sadness, and disappointment on his face.

Finally he nodded. “Timing, huh? I'm sorry, Lauren. You're a great girl. I shouldn't have been surprised by what you told me.”

I blushed. “You're being really sweet about this.”

“You're too modest. I let you go. That was my mistake.”

“I'm sorry,” I said in a whisper. “I mean, I know we weren't together, so I didn't do anything wrong. But I'm just . . . sorry.”

Taylor shook his head. “I'm not mad at you. I mean . . . jealous, yeah. I'm not going to lie. But we were broken up.”

“Are,” I corrected. “We
are
broken up.”

“
Are
broken up,” Taylor repeated. “Laur . . . are you that into this guy? You know we're good together.”

“Excuse
you
?” I huffed. “Please don't ask me stuff like that. Who I'm ‘into' is my choice.”

Taylor was acting so
not
Taylor.

“Am I speaking in French and not realizing it?” I continued. “We talked about
all
of this before. No. Long. Distance. Nothing's different—so why are you asking me?”

The streetlamp cast light that made the silver and pink sequins sparkle on my dress as I stood, leaving my mask on the bench. I was too frustrated to sit. I glanced at the ballroom and wished that I was inside and dancing with my friends. If only Taylor had come
just
to surprise me by being here as a friend.

“Things have changed,” Taylor said. He stood and looked into my eyes. “It wouldn't be long distance.”

My head snapped in his direction. Words wouldn't
come out. My brain felt as though it was stuffed with the insides of the pumpkins Jill and Lex had scraped out to make jack-o'-lanterns.

“What are you talking about?” My voice shook.

“Lauren, I got accepted to Canterwood.”

THERE WAS NO WAY I'D HEARD TAYLOR RIGHT.
My ears really were stuffed with pumpkin!

“
What
did you say?” I asked.

“I transferred to Canterwood.”

The entire world seemed to freeze for a second. I couldn't hear, see clearly, speak, or move.

Then I felt anger. Anger so much stronger than when Taylor had kissed me. I crossed my arms. This could
not
be happening. Five seconds ago I thought that I'd talk through this kissing disaster with Taylor, his mom or dad would pick him up, and he'd go back to Union. Everything would return to normal—Tay and I both happy being friends.

He wasn't going home. He wasn't going back to Yates. Canterwood was Taylor's home now.

Our
home.

Seeing Taylor, The Kiss, his confession, and this news was almost too much at once. My brain was heading toward an overload.

“Lauren?” Taylor asked, his tone tentative. He shuffled his feet but didn't come closer.

“I. Am. So. Confused.” I took a few breaths. “You came to my party. You kissed me. You're not leaving. This was all planned and I knew
nothing.
”

The worst part? I'd left it out.

A small piece of me was glad to see him.
That
confused me the most. I didn't want to be happy, not after everything he'd done tonight, but Taylor was familiar and comforting no matter how much I didn't want it in this moment. I had a Union ally at Canterwood now. But I wasn't saying that to Taylor. Not tonight, anyway.

“You're a student
here
?” I had to ask again.

“Yes.”

“Since when? Taylor, if you really thought of us as friends, why didn't you tell me?” I turned in a circle, fighting the urge to scream. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? Do you?”

Taylor looked down, then back up at me. “I did everything the wrong way. I ambushed you and kept
a big secret from you. This wasn't how I envisioned tonight.”

I stood—silent. There had to be more.

“I don't want to make excuses. I just want to tell the truth.”

I kept standing—waiting.

“I wasn't happy at Yates,” Taylor said. “I'm not trying to make this an oh-poor-Taylor thing. My dad was driving me insane. Remember his threats about pulling me off the swim team?”

“They got worse?” My heart twisted a little. Mr. Frost had always been a stress on Taylor. He had laserlike focus on grooming Taylor to take over Frost Investments. Taylor didn't want it, but the harder Tay pushed, the more Mr. Frost insisted.

“We fought all of the time, and I knew I had to get out,” Taylor continued. “I looked for boarding schools with swim teams. Academics that would impress my dad. Schools with business classes as extracurriculars.”

“And Canterwood came up how?”

“I swear, I looked all over the East Coast. Not one other school had everything that Canterwood did. Plus, it was close enough to home that I could easily get to Union for the summers and promise Dad to be in his office every day.”

“And your parents agreed? Just like that?” I asked. “I can't believe it.”

Taylor exhaled. “Me either. Dad took a week to look through everything about Canterwood. He and my mom talked a lot. They spoke to the headmistress, and Dad called a dozen Canterwood graduates.”

“How did they tell you?”

“We sat down for dinner on a night Dad was home on time, and he and my mom told me that I could go if I was accepted.”

“When?” I asked.

“About three weeks ago.” Again Taylor ran his hand over his hair.

I threw up my arms, holding both palms upward. “
Three
weeks ago?”

“I wanted to tell you,” Taylor said. “You were the first person that I wanted to call, Laur. I promise. I was afraid at every step. At first I thought there was no way my dad would say yes. Then when he did, I was convinced because it was mid-semester that I wouldn't get in. It took two weeks for me to get an answer.”

“And then?”

“
And
when I did get my acceptance letter, I wasn't sure Dad would keep his promise, until he dropped me off.”

“So, you lied for two weeks while you waited for an answer. Then you lied for another week after you got in. Nice, Taylor.”

I regretted my words immediately. Taylor's cheeks went pink.
You can be mad, but you don't have to be mean
, I said to myself.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I understand why you were scared.”

Taylor took a step toward me. He reached out with his left arm, as if he was going to touch my arm, but pulled his arm back, holding his mask with both hands. Even under the dim light the desperation in his eyes was visible.

“You're the last one who should apologize,” he said. “This day—
your
day—wasn't supposed to be like this. If I could do it over, I would have called you the second that I decided to apply. You would have been there for me.”

“Tay, I'm happy for you—so happy—that you got away from your dad,” I said. “You know I am. But I'm mad, too! And confused. You're here. At my school. The place where I came for a fresh start.”