Somehow, the look in his eyes makes everything inside me unravel. I finally see him for what he is: cursed just like me. Screwed is more like it. He’s after the same thing. He’s hoping that somehow we’re okay. Somehow, we can be what everyone else is.
But he’s just as scared as I am that it won’t work.
“So what ... we just hang out?”
He shrugs again, those perfectly sculpted, Greek-god-size shoulders moving upward. “I guess ... I guess we get to know each other. See if it becomes what it is supposed to.”
I swallow and take a huge step into the water. Strangely though, it doesn’t have its usual calming effect.
My physical need for it abates, but my nerves don’t dissipate. “Okay,” I say. I feel as though I’m losing something beloved and gaining something new. It’s Cole for Erik—and a lifetime of possibility. “Let’s try that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. How could I go on with my life without knowing what this is? Tomorrow, I’ll tell Cole it’s over. We can ... We can try. See where this goes. See if it can be something.”
His grin is so wide, it envelops his face. After the darkness of tonight, it’s like the sun is beating down on me, warming me from the inside out. I want to bask in it, enjoy it forever. Maybe with Erik
. . . maybe I could.
Never have to swim again? We could do anything. Be anyone. I can give up all the drama and truly focus on college. Studies. On being someone.
How can I not want to do that? How can I not try? I have to.
And yet as I accept a hug from Erik, all I feel is my betrayal.
Because I still want Cole.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next morning, I trudge into the halls of CCH. I know I would have lost Cole eventually, but I am dreading what is to come. In 250 years, none of the sirens in my family has ever had a guy stick by her side when he knew the truth. It’s not like I’m so naïve as to think that Cole would be the first.
Besides, it’s not all about Cole. It’s about everyone within a twenty-mile radius. It’s about the curse and not killing anyone ever again. And it’s also about having a life, a real, normal teenager’s life. The kind of thing I’ve dreamt of for so long.
So, that’s it. I trade one person for everything I’ve ever wanted.
And yet, I don’t know how to tell that to the person staring back at me with the most adoring eyes I’ve ever seen. Every second he stares at me, I hate myself more.
“Cole . . .” My voice trails off to a pitiful whisper.
The smile dies on his face, and he stares at me with a look that says he knows that what comes next won’t be good. He reaches for my hand, and all I can do is pull it away, out of his grip.
“I just think . . .” The words choke in my throat. How can I just dump him when he’s the first guy in two years I’ve cared about? The first guy who could hold a candle to Steven? I force the words. “You’re not the right guy for me. I think we should see other people.” I swallow the boulder in my throat. “I think I want . . . someone . . . more into . . .” I can’t even think of a suitable excuse. There is none for what I’m doing.
Cole cares about me in a way no one else ever has. He believes in me when no one else does.
But he will never be mine. And that’s the only fact that matters.
“So this is what it’s like,” Cole says, staring at me, his expression a mix of anguish and awe.
“What?”
“Being on the wrong side of a breakup.”
My lips part, but I don’t know what to say.
Again, he reaches for my hand. This time I let him hold it for one long, lingering, blissful moment. Then I pull away.
“Don’t do this, Lexi.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s the only truth I’ve spoken. “But we both knew this wouldn’t work.”
“That’s not true! You’re scared and you’re running. You know that’s what this is.” There’s an edge to his voice—a note of panic. He knows he’s already lost.
“I’m sorry, Cole. This was all a mistake,” I say.
“How can you say that?” he asks, his voice now gruff and angry.
I fake anger right back. “Look, just because you’re used to getting what you want, doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind. So you can quit with the entitlement.” The words, so much like Ice Queen Lexi, escape before I can stop them. I guess I’m still good at masking pain with anger.
When he looks at me, his eyes shine with his pain. I just hit him right where it hurts, insinuated he’s still the same guy he was two years ago. If I wanted to ensure he’d never take me back, I just did it successfully. I walk away from him without a word, my resolve weakening with every step, hating myself more and more. But I did what I had to do. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
But it doesn’t change the fact that my heart has disintegrated into a million pieces, leaving a gaping hole where it used to be.
Cole isn’t sitting at Sienna’s table at lunch. His absence seems bigger than anything else in the room.
Erik is sitting in the same spot he’s occupied for the last week, at Sienna’s table. At my table. He’s motioning wildly with his hands, telling some kind of story. Everyone around him hangs on his every word. Less than a month and he’s got them, hook, line, and sinker. I guess it’s not hard to be popular when you look like Erik does—more like a model than a teen. He’s easily the hottest guy ever to sit in this cafeteria. In high school, that means one thing: the A-list.
I’m strangely grateful for that. For Erik fitting right into my old clique. It’ll make everything about this easier. I can fit into my old life, and he’ll fit into it with me.
I look around, trying to find Cole, but I don’t see him, and I can’t just stand over here, frozen. So I fake the best smile I can muster and head to their table. There’s one empty seat, next to Erik, and he beams at me when I sit next to him.
For a long second, the whole table is silent. It’s like I can see them rewinding, remembering the party last Friday. It’s as if they’re asking themselves: Wasn’t she with Cole? Nikki has some weird smirk frozen on her face, something between amusement and anger, like she can’t choose between the two. A blind person would have picked up on the fact that she was into Erik. I hope she doesn’t get upset that I’m going to be the one with him.
Erik covers for me by launching into a new story, trying to distract everyone. I stare down at the peeling veneer on the cafeteria table and wonder how long it would take me to rip off the whole chunk.
Sienna kicks me under the table to get my attention. Once she does, she gives me this wide-eyed “What the hell is going on?” sort of look. She wants to know where Cole is, why I’m sitting with Erik. I give her a feeble shrug and try to listen to Erik’s story, but as soon as I hear “incomplete” and “thirty-yard line,” I realize they’re talking about football. From then on, I only pretend to listen, nodding my head occasionally.
And that’s when I see Cole watching us from across the cafeteria, where he’s standing in line. The expression on his face is a mix of a hundred things: anger, hurt, surprise. He must know now that it’s about Erik. I didn’t just run away from Cole. I ran to Erik. I just twisted the knife a little deeper.
If only I could tell Cole what Erik is, what he represents. Then all of this wouldn’t be so bad. But I can’t. I can’t ever tell him that he’s the one I want but who I can’t have. And no mere apology will ever be good enough.
Even still, I mouth, “I’m sorry.” But either he doesn’t see me or he doesn’t care. He leaves the lunch line without getting any food, stalking out of the cafeteria. The door quietly clicks shut, but to me, it seems as if it slams with a bang.
He’s done with me.