Page 70 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
“Meera, stop. My dad’sfurious. As if we don’t already have the worst reputation in town. Dad could lose hisjobover this. He’s definitely going to lose respect from his team. And Aaron, too. Dad was going to get him a job at the plant, but now who’s going to hire him?” He sounds so… bitter. Dejected, hurt, and angry. And it’s because of me. Because I appeared in his life and insisted he help me with my petty revenge against my mother.
“Noah, I’m sorry. I understand why you’re upset, but let me talk to Jason. Sadie and I can write our own op-ed—”
“Meera, you and I are from different sides of the river. You’llneverunderstand us.”
He’s wrong. Idounderstand him. But something tells me I won’t get through to him saying that. “Okay, but what about your college admissions? We should at least finish the spreadsheet.”
“As soon as I apply for any of those programs, they’re going to look me up and read that I’m a delinquent drug addict. Why did you even send that song to your friend? You wanted to rescue the poor alcoholic’s son?”
He knows why I did it. He said he was glad that I did. “No. It was because I wanted people to see how amazing you are! Everything I said to you on Friday is true. My feelings for you are true.”
He’s quiet for so long that I wonder if he hung up, but when he speaks up again, his voice is soft and full of regret. “I should have listened to my father from the beginning. Mixing with the LeClairs hasalwaysbeen a disaster for my family.”
No, no, no. I feel my heart beating loudly in my ears and my stomach is clenched so tight, I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Noah, we’re not a disaster. We can fight back! We can’t let them win!”
“No. Can’t you see? I’m not looking for a savior, Meera. We’re done.”
He disconnects the call before I can say anything else. It’s over.
The curse won.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXIce Cream Always Helps
I stare at my phone for several long moments after Noah hangs up, not believing what just happened. On Friday he told me he loved me, and on Monday he broke up with me. Sadie rubs my back.
“What happened, Meera?”
“He…” My voice cracks. “He’s upset. He and his father saw the article. He says we’re a disaster, that I cared more about being his savior than being his partner.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “And honestly, I can’t blame him.”
“Oh, Meera. I’m sorry.” Sadie hugs me, and I let myself cry in her arms.
I’m not usually a wallower, and I always assumed I’d handle breakups like a champ because I was too smart to delve into self-pity, but what the heck do I know about anything? I get why they call it “heartbreak.” Even though that term isn’t really right. It should be “heart-rip-in-two.” “Heart-pulverize.” “Heart-destroy.” I actually feel physical pain, in my stomach, in my head, and behind my eyes.
How could I have screwed up this much?
Sadie gets me a box of tissues from the living room. I take one and blow my nose, making an embarrassingly loud noise.
“What can I do to help?” Sadie asks.
I shrug, wiping my eyes with a fresh tissue. “Nothing. He doesn’t want to talk to me. And my mother seems to have abandoned me. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
Sadie tilts her head compassionately. At least I still have Sadie. I could never really understand why cousins and sisters were different from, or better than, friends. But hanging out with Sadie all summer taught me. She’s like a good friend, but a good friend who understands me because she knows my family from the inside.
“I’m glad you’re my cousin now,” I say to her. Because I’m apparently a sloppy sentimentalist when I’m heartbroken.
“Right back at ya, Meera.” She goes in for another hug and squeezes me tight. “You know what’s the absolute best thing after a breakup?”
I raise one brow. She’s probably going to suggest movies or sad music. Movies I can handle, but music will only make me think of Noah.
“Ice cream. From Callista’s Creamery. I can get Liv to bring us some?”
I nod. Callista’s Creamery is this adorable shop that makes homemade ice cream on Main Street. “Salted caramel.”
Sadie picks up her phone. “On it. We got you, Meera.”
About thirty minutes later Sadie, Liv, and I are in the living room, each with a little carton of ice cream. The salted caramel is helping, actually more than I thought it would. But I’m still sad.
“It all really sucks, Meera,” Liv says after we tell her whathappened. “I can’t believe Kaitlyn would do something like that. It’s such a”—she pauses, then glances at Sadie—“Randell Academy thing to do.”
