Page 72 of Secrets and Lies
West: so all of that talk is just more empty threats
Anthony: you think so?
West: I know so
West: so fuck you and your sexy messages and your dick pics
I wait until my screen starts to time out to see if he’s done, then exit out of my texts and push my chair back from my desk.
Looks like I’ll not only get to put the app Xave used to sneak into the house to good use, but I also get to show West just how serious I am.
He’s either going to regret this, or it’s going to be the best night of his life.
12
WEST
It feelslike my skin is a size too small and I’m slowly being suffocated by it as I sit at my desk and stare unseeingly at the article in front of me.
I’ve spent the last hour trying to do some reading for my group project with Anthony, but all I’ve managed to do is spiral and work myself into a frenzy.
I don’t even remember making the decision to text my mystery texter, but even going off the rails and ranting at him like a crazy person didn’t help calm the turmoil in my head.
The fucked-up thing is that I’m not as broken up about ending things with McKenna as I should be. I’m hurt that she cheated, I’m pissed her friends are talking shit about me, and I’m dreading having to deal with the fallout of breaking off an engagement and dealing with canceled wedding plans and upset family members, but I’m not that distraught over the actual breakup.
I knew going into things that I was way more emotionally invested in our relationship than McKenna was. We’d been friends for almost two years when we got together, but whileI’d already had feelings for her for most of that time, she only thought of me as a friend.
And I was such a good friend that she’d use me as a sounding board and come to me for “guy advice” when she was having dating trouble. I was fine with that, and I accepted that we’d only ever be friends. Then she asked me to go to the Belmont Valentine’s Day ball with her because she didn’t want to bother with finding a date after breaking up with her last boyfriend.
Our friend date turned into a night together, and things immediately went into hyperdrive. We were exclusive within a week, and we said we loved each other after a month.
The fact that she’d just come out of another relationship two weeks before she asked me to go to the ball should have tipped me off that I was her rebound guy. So was how she dove headfirst into things with me and wanted everything to happen at warp speed when that’s not her usual style. But even with the signs being right there, I ignored them because I was so happy to finally be with someone who matched my energy and seemed to be as excited about being with me as I was about being with them.
But now that I’ve had time to sit with things, I know it’s good we broke up now before more arrangements and plans had been made. And as much as I hate that she cheated, I’m glad I found out when I did and not weeks or months down the road when it would be even harder to end things.
My phone vibrates on my desk, and I abandon my attempts at reading the article as I pick it up to check my texts.
Damon: wtf????
Damon: you and M broke up?
West: can I call you? I don’t want to type all of this out right now
Instead of answering, Damon must hit call because my phone rings seconds after I send my text.
“Hey,” I answer, my voice weirdly low and monotone.
“Hey,” he says. “What the hell happened?”
“What did you hear?” I ask, my heart already sinking.
“A few things…”
“Like what? I haven’t left my room since I got back from talking to her.”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“I’ve already heard a few of the rumors,” I tell him. “My phone has been blowing up for hours, so if you don’t tell me, someone else will.”
