Page 60 of Catching Feelings

Mr. Lewis gives me a pitying look. “We don’t, Sabrina.” He shakes his head. “It’s okay if we have to cancel. It’s just a dance.”

Intellectually, I know he’s right. But everyone’s been waiting for this dance all fall—it’s not just a dance. It’s a celebration of our senior year. It’s the culmination of all my hard work. Now everyone will be talking about me for an entirely different reason—because I’m the girl who let them down. Who couldn’t follow through.

And still, I force a smile. Like always. “Okay. Well, thanks for telling me.”

Mr. Lewis casts me one last, lingering look before taking a step back into the doorway. “Don’t stay too late, okay? You should get some rest.” He tries for a wry smile. “Maybe that’s a silver lining? You can actually relax for a change?”

I choke out a laugh. Yeah. Time to rest. That’s exactly what I need.

I spend the next hour checking and rechecking our numbers, my notes, my lists… but eventually I have to admit that Mr. Lewis is right. There’s nothing we can do within our budget, and I should’ve seen it coming sooner. Maybe I would have, if I hadn’t been so consumed by Tyler.

I turn off the lights in the office and trudge out to the parking lot, my steps dragging more than ever before. I’ve never felt like so much of a failure.

The weather’s turning ugly. There’s no moon in sight, and the wind stirs up the leaves that have started to fall. Real autumn is coming, and I yearn to curl up in the cocoon of my comforter and never leave.

I unlock the car and slide inside, flicking on the headlights against the dark and pulling out of the parking lot. I barely notice my surroundings.

I thought I’d hit rock bottom before, but I had no idea. Now I don’t even have the Spirit Committee to fall back on.

How am I going to face everyone?

How am I going to survive the next week without this project to focus on?

And that thought breaks the seal on the tears I’ve been holding back. Before I know it, I’m sobbing over the steering wheel, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes and snot from my nose so I can see clearly enough to drive safely.

The problem with smiling all the time is that when you break, you really break.

The streets of Hamilton Lakes don’t care that I’m falling apart. I pass Kara’s house, and I think about her leaving next year and no longer being at my side to do my makeup, and help with my to-do list, and defend me against the world; I pass the diner, and I think of Tyler and strawberry milkshakes and heads bent together in conversation; I pass the Thompsons’ house on my way to my subdivision, and I think of parties and stolen kisses and the feeling of my friends dancing at my side.

It all just makes me cry harder. All the things I’m losing this year, and there’s nothing I can do to hang on to them.

And then, as if things couldn’t get any worse… my engine starts to sputter.

No. Oh no, no, no. Not tonight. Not in this weather. Please, God, I’ve suffered enough today—things don’t need to get any worse—

But no one is listening.

The car dies.

I snort-laugh in desperation and grip the steering wheel, thinking of the last time this happened. The way Tyler coached me gently through pulling the vehicle to the side of the road. How his steadiness made it not at all scary.

And this, at least, I manage to do without him.

When the car rolls to a halt, I have to take in a deep, shuddery breath. Tears are still drying on my face, but against all odds, the shock of the car dying has jolted me back into some strange sort of presence.

For a long moment, I just sit there, still and quiet, staring out the windshield and wondering what has happened to my life.

Who did I piss off? What did I do to deserve this? Have I not given everything I have to these people, to this school? To this car??

And here I am at the side of the road, about to be responsible for Hamilton Lakes’s canceled homecoming dance. Letting everyone down. Left all alone.

I swipe my sleeve across my face. Okay, Sabrina. Enough self-pity. I roll my eyes and grab my phone.

Time to get it together.

I can’t call Kara—she took off after school on a mini road trip to Chicago with Harper and Marissa. Ostensibly to visit colleges, though we all know she’s been missing Dawson something fierce. Marissa will take any excuse to visit Northwestern and meet some of the students at the Medill School of Journalism, and Kara’s genuinely excited to see UChicago. Where fun goes to die! she told me cheerily, and I tried not to get my hopes up too high at the idea of her staying closer to home than California. Regardless, I’m not making her clean up my messes again.

Mom is working until midnight, of course, and I’m not going to ask her to leave work early just to help me call a tow truck and catch a ride. Not when she’s juggling so much already. Not when the last time I saw her was two days ago, when she was returning from a night shift and I was getting ready to go to school. Not when the last communication we’ve had was her latest note: Marriage has no guarantees. If that’s what you’re looking for, go live with a car battery.