The Breakup Artist (12 page)

She wore khaki pants with brown tennis shoes and a light pink three-quarter sleeved shirt. Her long brown hair was curly and pinned back away from her face so that the curls could cascade down her back. Basically, she looked like she stayed home all day and baked brownies for fun, and then went out on Saturday night and gave them to the homeless. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to seduce someone and be sweet at the same time, but that was the challenge I’d have to face.

“What’s your name?” I asked, realizing that through my little schpeel I’d never gotten any information about her. I was just so used to summing a person up based on their style.

“I’m Karen,” she answered quietly. Her voice seemed so drained of confidence that I indulged in a Romeo and Juliet type of fantasy for a moment, thinking that she really loved her boyfriend but they had to break up because their families hated each other. Of course, that whole scenario was ridiculous, but it worked just for that moment.

“All right, Karen. If you’ll just email me that information, I’ll get started on your job right away.” She nodded as she silently read the address I had given her.

“I’ll get the money to you tomorrow. I don’t have it on me right now . . . if that’s all right?” Normally I never took a job without getting the money first, but Karen didn’t really strike me as the type to have me work for her and then make off without paying me, so I agreed and said my good-byes.

The parking lot was almost completely empty by the time I made it out there. Students, who generally moved about as fast as a skateboard through a room of gravel, managed to get themselves going at a pretty decent pace when it meant they’d be leaving school. I walked to my car with my eyes trained on the ground, hoping that if I didn’t see David while walking out to my car, he wouldn’t see me. It was perfectly possible that he had already gone home, and I held onto that possibility with all my might.

Of course, my hoping did nothing. I looked up to find a sandy blond lounging against my silver car with an intent look on his face. I rolled my eyes at his serious expression and approached the car. He was leaning against the back door, leaving my door free, so I took full advantage of this and went straight for the keyhole. I plunged the key in, hoping that I could simply outmaneuver him and get into the car before he could say anything. He grabbed my hand just as I turned the key, however, and stopped me from getting any further.

“Do you agree to my terms?” he asked suddenly, as if picking up a conversation we’d ended only a few seconds earlier.

“What terms?” I grumbled. He sighed, obviously exasperated by my short-term memory.

“I want you to stop this little ‘business’ of yours, and I want to help you.”

“Well, those aren’t really terms, David. Terms would be more like ‘you stop your business and I’ll give you a million dollars.’ Now those are terms I’d agree to.” He looked at me with his brows drawn together in deep concern, and I glared back. “Oh, stop being so dramatic! It’s not such a big deal, all right! I’m not emotionally scarred, I’m not a bad person, and there’s nothing wrong with how I make money. You’re the one who needs help. What kind of person dedicates a year of his life to following some girl around? Now that’s creepy.”

“Amelia, I don’t know why you won’t just admit that this has something to do with your own insecurities and not so much to do with making money.” His tone aggravated me. It said, “I know what I’m talking about and you don’t.” It was superior and I’d had enough of it.

“Of course it has to do with money. I don’t do this for fun, David. I just need money for college. Why is that so hard for you to believe?” It didn’t make sense that he couldn’t see the simple answer when it was right in front of him. It was pretty obvious that I did this for money, but his constant insistence that this was something else just baffled me. And the fact that he had decided to make it any of his business was complete nonsense.

“You could make more money at an after-school job than you are with this. Plus, from what I’ve noticed, you probably waste most of the money you make on hair products and new clothes for your clients.” The obviousness of this statement did strike me for a moment. But only for a moment. I clicked my teeth together and looked up to the sky as if asking for assistance from some greater source to help me deal with this menace.

Perhaps I could make more at an after-school job, but if I did that, I wouldn’t have an excuse to constantly change myself. I’d be a normal person set to the normal rules everyone else had to live by. I’d be expected to make friends and uphold relationships. I’d be expected to participate in the normal high school rituals like prom. And worst of all, I’d be expected to fit in with the rest of the crowd. I wouldn’t fit in by choice, like I did when I pretended to be other people for my clients, but I would fit in because I’d be just like everyone else.

Though the money was definitely a perk, I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed living by a different set of rules than my peers. It made me feel different and special to be able to stand back and criticize high school life without actually having to participate in it. I actually worried that if I had to start being a normal high school student I’d become so used to the mediocrity that I wouldn’t even notice how normal I’d become. I’d just keep sinking into the crowd until I was as faceless as everyone else. I’d be given a brand like “jock,” or “drama geek,” or “nerd,” and that would be that. No one would look past my label, or even have a desire to. They’d sum me up by what I wore or who I hung out with . . . just like I did with them.

The sad reality of this existence must have manifested itself on my face because David looked instantly concerned.

“Are you all right?” he asked, worry lining his features. I nodded silently and composed myself.

“I need to get home. My mom and I are going out to dinner,” I lied. He nodded in understanding, still staring at me with acute concern, but he let me pass. Once in the car I drove to the store to get brown hair dye, and then home to my empty house. Once I got there I pulled some leftover chicken from the fridge. My mom hadn’t bothered to leave a note this time, but I knew she wouldn’t be home, so I finished my food, dyed my hair, and went to bed.

As I pulled into the school parking lot, the silent threat David posed still hung in the air. I glanced around the area, doing a quick scan to make sure he wasn’t nearby. When I was satisfied that he was nowhere to be found, I made my way to Karen’s normal hangout. She had said that she and Nate were usually in the cafeteria between classes, so that was where I set my course.

The cafeteria was relatively empty, which didn’t surprise me since most students ate breakfast at home or simply skipped the meal altogether. A few students huddled in close groups at the long picnic tables, exchanging that morning’s gossip. Others sat alone, slouched over their miniature milk cartons with dazed looks on their faces.

I spotted Nate and Karen instantly. Today Karen’s long brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail secured by a pale yellow ribbon. She laughed loudly at something Nate had said, but instantly slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Her eyes grew wide and she giggled soundlessly at her own candid show of amusement. I smiled at her behavior in spite of myself. I looked over to survey the other half of the couple, which is when I saw Nate for the first time. He had short, light brown hair and the rosiest cheeks I had ever seen. His features, however, weren’t what struck me about him. It was the look in his eyes that really stood out. The way he looked at Karen reminded me briefly of the way movie stars look at each other in romantic films, though this look was less polished. It was a warm, sincere look that could have melted anyone’s heart. From where I stood, it actually appeared that Nate cared about Karen, rather than what she could do for his popularity or what she looked like. He actually looked into her eyes when she whispered things to him, and his smile was genuine.

It was a touching moment, but it was, sadly, completely irrelevant to what I had to do there. I sat down at an empty table near the door and took a plastic-wrapped bagel from my white backpack. I opened up my breakfast as quietly as I could, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. We only had about ten minutes before the first bell rang, warning us to get to class, so I decided to take those ten minutes to really observe the couple before me. Something about the entire situation didn’t make sense. It didn’t match up with the other clients I had helped before. Karen didn’t look politely bored or audaciously interested in another boy; she looked happy. The blush I’d seen the day before returned to her cheeks at something Nate had said, and a smile spread across his face at the sight of her quickly reddening cheeks. Unless Karen was a wonderful actress, she was happy with Nate, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be getting an Academy Award any time soon.

“You’re doing another job,” came a matter-of-fact voice beside me. I turned, my face set in grim annoyance, as I instantly recognized the voice.

“How do you pop up everywhere? Do you just dedicate your time to following me around?” I was angry at my break in concentration, and my voice showed it. David’s eyes held mild amusement at my disgruntled expression.

“Actually, I just got lucky on this one. I always eat breakfast in here.” He looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter at this fortuitous chain of events. “So, can I eat breakfast with you?” he asked finally. I shook my head firmly at his question and rose to leave, though his hand instantly encircled my wrist. “Please, Amelia?” Again I shook my head, though I did sit back down, against my better judgment. “What if I promise not to talk about our little disagreement at all? It’ll just be a nice normal breakfast.” Much to my surprise, his eyes actually looked hopeful, as if he really wanted to eat breakfast with me. I knew it was a bad idea, and every cell in my brain was telling me to leave, but my muscles didn’t seem to listen to my brain, so there I sat. Fraternizing with the enemy.

David relaxed once he decided I wasn’t going to leave, and he let a smile grace his lips. He pulled a granola bar out of his backpack along with a plastic bottle of orange juice. I picked at my bagel with a doleful expression on my face, hoping he’d take the hint. Karen and Nate were still giggling and whispering at their table, though now it only annoyed me, where seconds before I’d found it heartwarming. David looked at me sideways and laughed softly.

“Sitting with me isn’t that bad, is it?” he asked with a grin. I turned my head to him, giving him a very clear look that answered his question in a second. He raised his eyebrows at me, still smirking, and shook his head. “All right, time to change the subject. How was dinner with your mom last night?” I looked down at my half eaten bagel, hoping to hide any hint of the truth my expression may show.

“It was fun. We did dinner and a movie. Probably stayed up later than we should have but it was worth it.” I wasn’t sure why I was lying since he’d probably bugged my house or something and knew that I’d really spent the evening eating reheated leftovers. If he detected the edge to my voice, however, he didn’t show it.

“That sounds like fun,” he said simply, without a smidgeon of sarcasm. I nodded my head but said nothing in response. Our conversation had definitely taken a turn for the awkward. I couldn’t quite understand why David had decided to eat breakfast with me. It seemed odd that he was so bent on destroying me and yet he wanted to spend time with me. I suppose he could be trying to get to know me better so that it would be easier to take me down. After all, that’s what I did to my customer’s boyfriends. I sighed deeply, instantly attracting David’s attention. “You all right?” He asked that question a lot.

“I guess,” I said glumly. David always seemed to make me so depressed. It was a mixture between my hate for him and his stupid ideologies and my secret wish that he’d just realize that he wanted to be with me for the rest of his life so we could live happily ever after. “I feel like the victim of a kidnapping,” I said suddenly, once again using my brilliant social skills around this boy who seemed to always make me say the most ridiculous things. David looked at me the way I expected him to—like he had no idea where that had come from.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“It’s like you’re holding my business hostage, and yet I’m forced to be around you and eat breakfast with you . . . so it’s like you’ve kidnapped me, and even though I know you’re trying to ruin my life, I have to be around you and treat you civilly.” The words came spilling out of my mouth with absolutely no censor. I wasn’t even sure if they made sense, but the whole thought process had definitely made sense in my head before it had made its big debut out of my mouth. Surprisingly David didn’t look confused, but disappointed.

“Maybe you’ll get Stockholm Syndrome,” he said with a laugh before turning serious again. “Amelia, I know you feel like I’m ruining your life or sticking my nose in your business, but I’m really trying to help you. I’m sure I sound like a shrink or something, but you really do fascinate me.” He stopped short once those words left his mouth and I wondered if he was rethinking what he’d said or just wondering if he’d come off as a creepy stalker. I was still bothered by his insistence that he belonged in my life somehow, but I couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of affection for him. He kept his gaze trained on me expectantly and I looked around for some kind of out. Karen and Nate had left without me noticing, so I took this as the perfect opportunity.