Page 114 of The Breakup Artists

Ella notices. “Hang on a second. What am I missing here? Why are you looking at Hold—August that way?”

“We aren’t looking at August in any way,” Ella’s mom compensates, and I cringe.

Ella holds out her hands. “Wait, everybody stop,” she says like she’s trying to make sense of us. “Why didn’t you react when I said his real name?”

But it isn’t Ella’s parents who answer—it’s me again. “They hired us.”

No one moves, the bomb of my words going off and all of us frozen in place.

Ella’s voice is disbelieving. “What do you mean, they—”

“To break up your relationship with Justin,” Tiny continues, and I’m grateful. It would sound much worse coming from me. Tiny’s tone is measured and her chin high, like she’s come to terms with what she has to do even though she doesn’t like it.

“What?!?” Ella says, this time with force. “What are you even... That’s not possible. Mom?” Her eyes are pleading.

Ella’s mom blanches. Ella’s dad reddens.

“Justin’s cheating on you,” Tiny continues, taking control. And now the whole Becker family looks at her with matching expressions of shock. I know Tiny has to say it, that if she doesn’t, this massive screwup could effectively push Ella further into Justin’s arms. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“Find outlike this?Find out like—” Ella stammers, gesturing at all of us. “Howdare you. I cannotbelieve...” She shakes her head, her tone lodged firmly between fury and tears. “Screw all of you!” She pushes past me and storms away.

I follow. “Ella, wait,” I say, but she doesn’t slow down. “Ella, please. Let me—”

“Get away from me!” she spits.

“Please let me explain—”

“Explain?” she yells, turning to face me in the middle of the dance floor. “What are you going to explain,August?” She makes my name sound like a curse. “That everything you’ve ever said to me isa big fat lie? That you’re a manipulative asshole who I never should have trusted?”

“It’s more complicated—”

But she’s not done. “Complicated like you and Valentine pretending to be my friends? Complicated like making me trust you when you were lying through your teeth? I told you about my grandmother... I... No, just no. Whatever you have to say, Ido notwant to hear it!” She forcefully brushes her cheek, where a tear has overflowed.

The crowd around us stares.

“I know you feel betrayed,” I say, desperately trying to find a foothold in this quicksand-ish conversation. “I swear I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to help—”

She laughs angrily. “Help?Whatever you say Justin did, you’ve doneso much worse. And don’t even get me started on our conversation today. I can’t believe I was going to—” She shakes her head. “I never ever want to see you again.”

There it is. The irreparable hurt in her eyes. The finality of her words. The painful out-of-breath feeling of watching her walk away. The wall I built around my feelings years ago presses firmly against my ribs, cracking and threatening to drown me like a bursting dam.

There’s no air. None.

I don’t remember walking away.

I don’t remember if Ella’s parents said anything.

I don’t remember Tiny.

I don’t remember my mom following me to the steps or calling after me as I went up them. She’s mad. Or upset maybe. Again, I don’t know.

All I know is that I’m in my room, locking the door. Locking the window. Locking the world out.

55

valentine

“You’re certain he’s cheating?” Mr. Becker asks me, his expression stone-cold angry.