I pulled my knees up to my chest. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. My emotions vacillated between anger and despair.
Slade’s calls and texts had stopped last night. As angry as I was, the thought of us being over, really over, shattered my heart into a million pieces. The only saving grace in this whole situation was having the week off from nannying so I didn’t have to see him.
“He’s probably hanging at the club pool with Alex today,” Desi said, eyeing me. “We could go.”
I gaped at her. “No way.”
“But I thought he was teaching you to swim. You’re getting more comfortable in the water, right?”
“Look, I’m not going to see him. At the pool or anywhere else.”
She sat quietly for a moment then propelled herself off the bed in one graceful move. “You know what? That whole perfectionist thing you’ve got going on? You need to drop it. Or there’s not going to be anyone good enough for you. Ever.”
Before I could respond, she’d left my room, slamming the door behind her.
I felt like she’d punched me. I curled into a ball on my bed, pulling the covers over my head, letting the tears overwhelm me.
Chapter Forty-One
Slade
Tuesday, July 16
Only someone at his wit’s end would ask his mom for advice. I’d obviously reached the depths of desperation.
Alex’s advice, to show up at Trina’s door with flowers, was totally lame. Not that I wasn’t willing to fall on my sword. I was. But I needed to do something more dramatic, like Lloyd in Say Anything, standing outside with a boom box over his head.
After Dad left, I cornered Mom in the kitchen.
“Oh, sweetie,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I hate seeing you like this.”
Mom had found out about the breakup thanks to Alex and his big mouth. He and my mom always gossiped together like those chicks in the nail salon in Legally Blonde.
I hated that he could kick my ass so easily, because I desperately wanted to kick his for telling Trina about the bet, and making it sound like the bet was about me using her. I had to explain to her that wasn’t the real bet, but how could I if she wouldn’t speak to me?
I sat across from Mom. “I’ve given up on calling. And texting.” I chose my next words carefully. I didn’t want her going all psycho-shrink all me, but I was desperate. I couldn’t lose Trina over something this stupid.
“Mom, I…I need your…” I took a deep breath. She watched me expectantly. “I need your advice.”
She looked shocked. Not surprising, since the last time I’d asked for her advice was when I couldn’t decide between a new bike or a new skateboard. When I was, like, ten years old.
She sat up straight in her chair, and the professional analyst side of her came to life. I put up a hand.
“No,” I said. “Not your professional advice.” I took a breath before plunging ahead. “Your advice as…as…a…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “As a girl. Woman. Person of the female persuasion.”
I waited for her laugh, but it never came. Cautiously, I opened one eye. She looked like she was ready to cry.
Crap.
She sniffed, pulling a tissue from nowhere like a magician, and wiped her eyes. “Oh, Slade. You’re breaking my heart.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yours, too? I thought I’d just broken Trina’s.” I tried to force a smile, which just made her cry harder.
“It’s been so…so…” She struggled for composure. “…so amazing to see you with Trina.” She paused to blow her nose then blinked at me. “I just knew you weren’t a man whore.”
“Mom!”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s what the kids say now, isn’t it? That’s what Alex said, anyway.”
I was definitely going to kick his ass, no matter how many damn wrestling medals he’d won.
Mom brushed her hair behind her ears. “So. My advice as a woman.” She chewed her lip. “She won’t take your calls at all?”
I shook my head.
She reached across the table to rest her hand on mine. “Then you need to do something unexpected. Something she can’t ignore.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know what.”
She tapped her chin. “She’s a smart girl. I bet she’s not into big displays like flowers or singing telegrams.”
That almost made me laugh. What would the person sing?
She ran her fingers across the tablecloth. “Maybe you need to do something old-fashioned, but powerful.”
I shifted in my chair uneasily. “Like what?”
She leaned across the table, looking way too excited. “Like a letter.” She paused. “A love letter.”
“Uh…I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You love her, don’t you?”
My face burned and I looked away. I should’ve asked Desi for advice, not Mom.
“Fine, don’t admit it. I’m only your mother. Only changed your diapers—”
“Stop, Mom. Right now. You know that BS doesn’t work on me.”
She sighed then laughed softly. “All right. But honestly, Slade, I think this could work. Write down all your feelings. Remind her of all the special times you’ve spent together.”
I reached up to pull the shoelace out of my hair. I twisted it around my fingers, considering the idea. Write a love letter? For real?
“You need to use stationery. No more texts.” She paused, and then grinned. “Maybe put some of your cologne on the paper.”
“Mom.” My face burned again, but I laughed at her. “You sure you’re a professional? Didn’t you have to pass some sort of test before they let you loose on strangers with this kind of pathetic advice?”
She laughed, but then her face turned all serious. “It kills me to see you like this. You two are so…so adorable together. When I set up this job for you, I never would’ve guessed—” She stopped talking suddenly, her face stricken.
I scratched the back of my head. “Maybe you set up the interview, but I got the job by myself.” I grinned at her. “Max’s mom was totally wowed by my awesomeness.”
Mom’s responding smile looked forced. “That’s what I meant.” She tore at the tissue still in her hand. “Of course you got the job by yourself.” She stood up suddenly. “I’ll get the stationery. Be right back.”
While I waited for her to return, I checked my phone. Of course she hadn’t texted me. But Desi had: Still pouting. But keep trying.
I wasn’t giving up. I was about to write an actual love letter. If that wasn’t trying, I didn’t know what was.
Mom returned with a box and dropped it on the table. I eyed it warily. “It has flowers, Mom. And baby ducks. I can’t use that.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do we need to watch You’ve Got Mail together?”
I jerked upright. “No, we do not.” I pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled quickly, then passed the letter to Mom.
Sorry I was a dick. You’re a cool chick.
Mom threw the paper on the table, but I could tell she was biting back laughter. I stood up, grabbing the box of girlie paper.
“You didn’t really think I’d write it in front of you, did you? This isn’t fourth grade homework at the kitchen table, Mom.”
She shook her head, smiling in exasperation, and I backed out of the room, giving her a lazy salute.
Chapter Forty-Two
Trina
July 17, Wednesday
Mom knocked softly on my door, stepped inside, and held out a lavender envelope.
“For you.”
I yanked my earbuds out of my ears and stared at the envelope. My heart flipped over when I recognized Slade’s messy scrawl.
Mom waited, smiling down at me. I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Privacy, please.”
She sighed, but left the room. “At least let me know if you forgive him,” she called through the door.