Page 112 of The Design of Goodbye
Claire rolled her eyes. “You know what she means, Madison.”
“You both know the answer,” I said. The whole school had known since that morning when Olivia had caught Liam kissing me in front of my English class. “And what does it matter?”
Jules gaped. “What does it matter? Because we can’t be friends if you’re dating”—she waved airily at Liam—“him.”
“Well,” I started, “it’s a good thing we’re not friends anymore. You made that clear last Thursday.”
A short burst of air left Jules.
Claire hurriedly said, “Jules didn’t really mean it.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t!” screeched Jules. At her outburst, people stared. Jules’s face reddened at the unwanted attention. She muttered, twirling her hair, “I was upset.”
“What a great reason,” I said sarcastically. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter if you meant it or not because we’re done.”
Jules flinched. “What? We always fix things between us. And we can,” she continued, nervously twisting her fingers. “Just leave Roo and come back to us.”
“His name’s Liam,” I growled, gripping my knees because I really wanted to do something reckless, like throw my pop at her.
Pathetically, Claire whispered, “But Jules said you always come back.”
It was true. It reminded me of all those other times—those years—I’d been weak. But—
“Not this time.” I picked Liam’s notes back up, done with this conversation.
Jules wasn’t. She stomped her feet in aggravation and asked Liam, “Did you brainwash Madison?”
Liam snorted, gathered himself and then said, “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then, how?” huffed Jules. “How?”
He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. Jules and Claire stepped back. “How what?” he asked.
“Girls like Madison don’t fall for guys like you,” spoke up Claire.
“Guys like me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know,” said Jules.
“I don’t,” he replied. “Care to explain?”
“Youknow,” repeated Jules.
Liam smirked. “It just happened.”
“But—” stuttered Jules.
“I think you should go,” I said.
“Fine,” she spat. “But did he tell you why he missed the end of junior year yet?”
I faltered.
“So, basically, you’re dating a boy who can’t be honest with you?” Jules smirked.
Claire laughed. “Good luck with that.”
