My Clueless Broken Heart (School Dayz #3) Read online

  No service. The dining room must have lead walls. I shake my phone and check the screen again. Nothing.

  Becca: Are you there?

  When Travis doesn’t immediately respond, I’m slightly worried, but more annoyed. No one types as fast as Travis. His responses are usually instantaneous, as if he’s sitting across the room answering my thoughts.

  After lunch, I pass Gran in the kitchen. “I’m walking next door. Call my cell if you need me.”

  No one answers my knock at the carriage house. Odd, because the truck sits like a sleeping giant on the driveway.

  As a last resort, I pull out my phone and call Travis. A digitized female voice politely sends me to voice mail. I consider leaving a note on his door, but I refuse to sink to that level of desperate. So, I tromp back through the yard, trying not to let his odd disappearance bother me. When I call again, after dinner, he finally picks up.

  “Travis? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just giving you some space.” He coughs quietly. “With your parents around, you know.”

  “You could have sent me a text.” I sound like an obsessed cling-freak, but something’s wrong. I hear the change in his voice. I know Travis much better now. “Can you stop by?”

  He takes too long to answer. “It’s late. Are your parents’ home?”

  “Yeah, but they’re working. We can hide in the treehouse. Or the garage.”

  “It’s below freezing, Becca. Just forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow. After school.”

  My hands start to shake. “Really? You want to wait that long?”

  He pauses. “At this point, I don’t think it matters.”

  “It matters to me.” I bite back a flash of temper. “Fine. Whatever. See you tomorrow.”

  I barely get the words out before he disconnects.

  ***

  Stuck in holiday mode, I hit snooze when my alarm beeps in what feels like the middle of the night (but is actually six a.m.) Then I hit snooze three more times.

  I’m late for school and Val’s on morning announcement duty, so I miss my chance to ask her advice before homeroom. She rushes into first period five minutes late. We make eye contact and she instantly realizes something bad has happened. But when she starts to walk over to me, Mr. Ryan calls her back. “We’re starting class now, Valerie. Please take a seat.”

  We spend the entire class period trying unsuccessfully to pass notes. Mr. Ryan has his hawk eyes engaged today.

  “Are you really leaving? Did your parents buy their plane tickets?” she asks as we travel between classes.

  I shake my head. “They haven’t said anything about that lately.”

  “Then what’s going on?” She grips my arm. “Is it Travis?”

  My legs feel like lead but I drag myself forward two more steps. “Something’s wrong. He didn’t text or call me yesterday.”

  “Damn. Love sucks.” We reach the hallway intersection and she bears to the left. Glancing back, she forces a smile. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure you’ll make up.”

  Who said we were fighting?

  The sharp pain in my belly grows as the day wears on. I take pages of notes without processing the words as I write.

  Something is wrong.

  Something is wrong with Travis.

  He’s never intentionally avoided me like this. Not since we started all the kissing.

  I need to talk to him. Correction, I need to see him and talk to him. As soon as possible.

  ***

  I ditch my car on the driveway and speed over to the carriage house. Travis takes a minute to open the door and when he does, he looks sick.

  “Are you okay? You look kind of – pale.”

  “Yeah, here – just come in.” He steps away from the door before we make eye contact. I follow him into the living room and we sit on the sofa, but he doesn’t reach for me. After a long stretch of silence, he bends forward, sinking his face into his hands.

  “What is it?” I ask, already guessing the answer.

  “Becca.” He sucks in a huge breath. “I’m going back to school tomorrow. I won’t be home again until spring break, so I think we should … end this.”

  I gain five hundred pounds of dead weight around my heart. “End what? The sneaking around? My parents are leaving soon—”

  “Stop. Listen.” He springs to his feet and paces the room, his hands clenched into fists. “I mean end us. Stop seeing each other. Stop talking every day. Go back to the way things used to be.”

  By the time he stops moving, he’s added an entire room of distance between us.

  I open and close my mouth twice before I manage to form a complete sentence. “Are you mad because I disappeared yesterday? My mom asked me to go shopping and then she was all over me to help her pick out clothes and stuff. I texted you as soon as I could, but you didn’t answer.”

  He sets his shoulders and tilts his chin to meet my stare. “This isn’t your fault. We’re … not right for each other. It would be better if we were apart.”

  “Apart? For how long?” My voice breaks.

  “Becca,” Travis says. “You can’t wait for me.”

  The air in the room turns to ice. I struggle to take my next breath.

  “I want to wait for you,” I say, pushing up from the sofa. “You never asked for my opinion about that.”

  His blue eyes plead with me. “Don’t.”

  But it’s too late. I can’t stop now. Something’s snapped inside my heart and I’ve lost all control. “Travis, I think I’m in love with you. I mean, I’ve never actually been in love before—”

  “Don’t!” His voice bounces off the walls, seeming to echo around the room. “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? I’ve got three and a half years of college. Four years of med school. Residencies. Fellowships. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.” A muscle in his cheek jumps. “You’re not in love with me, Becca. Go live your own life.”

  “I’m missing something.” Tilting my head to the side, I take a step toward him. “Is this because I’m so messed up about my parents? Do I have too many issues?”

  “No.” He turns to the window, refusing to look at me.

  “Did you forget our deal?” My voice is low, but I’m sure he heard me.

  The heater clicks on, blasting warm air through the floor vents. I wait for Travis. He needs to say the words.

  “Deal’s off, Becca. This dating thing is … over.”

  He just destroyed me.

  A choking sound bursts from my chest as Travis storms out of the room and pushes through the front door. The truck roars to life and zooms away.

  I stumble home, into the kitchen and up the stairs. After I lock my door and collapse on my bed, the tears begin to flow. My parents never care about leaving me, so I refuse to sink to this level of misery over them. But Travis … he made me feel like I was someone worth caring about. And clueless me, I believed him.

  ***

  Avery knocks on my door an hour later. For a second, I think she knows about Travis, but I haven’t told anyone yet. And his truck is still missing from the driveway.

  “What’s wrong” I ask. I’m so not in the mood for her drama right now.

  She blinks back tears. “Mom wants to talk to us. She got a phone call today. Something important. She and Dad must be leaving soon.”

  “Really?” I force a smile. “I’m not packed.”

  Together, my sister and I march into the dining room. My parents are seated at the table, neither of them smiling.

  “The Nature Channel e-mailed a contract for our next film,” Dad says before I even sit down. “We need to be on location in three days.”

  I reach for Avery’s hand.

  “We’ll be filming the Marvels of Mandrills,” Mom says with a faraway smile.

  Dad picks up his fork, ready to dig in to the grilled steak and mashed potatoes piled high on his plate. “What do you think, Beck? Want to join us?”

  I’m not sure if
I want to laugh or cry. Before I pin down the correct emotion, Mom speaks. “If you’d like to finish your junior year at Harmony High, we’ll agree to that, Becca. With stipulations.”

  “What stipulations?” I ask, carefully.

  “You need to keep up your grades. No more B-pluses in Chemistry,” Mom says. “And I want you to participate in the science fair.”

  A wave of relief shakes down my spine. I can handle extra classwork. “Is that all?”

  Dad’s thick eyebrows shoot up. “Do you want more stipulations?”

  “No. That should be fine. Um, thank you.”

  “If you’d like to spend time with us on location, we’ll plan on flying you out this summer,” Mom says. “Two months on site. I’ll leave a list of the required vaccinations. Also, you’ll need to update your passport.”

  I nod, thinking how spending the summer on a different continent now seems like a much better alternative to living next door to my ex. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Mom’s eyes soften. “I think the change will be good for you.”

  Somehow, she knows. About Travis.

  ***

  Before leaving, my parents jet up and down the East Coast on a publicity tour, announcing their latest film collaboration. Meanwhile, I struggle to hold myself together for school and basketball practice. At night, I lie in bed, memorizing the road map of cracks marking the ceiling.

  Mr. Brennen probably should repair something before the attic caves in.

  When Mom knocks at my door to say goodbye, she assumes my gray mood is all about her.

  “You’ll see us again soon, Becca. I know it upsets you when Dad and I leave, but stay strong, and help take care of Gran and Avery.”

  She spreads her arms wide for a hug.

  I lean into her, soaking up the smell of her strawberry shampoo. “Have a safe trip. Good luck with your movie.”

  Downstairs, Dad feeds me the same speech and stretches his arms around me for an awkward embrace.

  The second the door clicks shut, I spin around, ready to resume my bedroom pity party, when Avery completely loses it.

  “Why … do they bother … to come home … if they’re not going to stay?” she wails, her chin wobbling as tears spill onto her cheeks. “I hate them!”

  Gran holds my sister as she cries. “Avery, they’re your parents and they love you. Unfortunately, in their line of work, they need to travel. They can’t be at home with you as much as you’d like. But you don’t hate them.” My eyes meet Gran’s over Avery’s blond ringlets. I’ve grown accustomed to my parents walking out on my life, but for some reason I’d always thought they’d come to their senses before Avery learned to despise them.

  “We’ll be okay, Avery.” Not that I believe those words at this moment. My entire life feels broken and I have no idea how to fix it. I run my hand over her silky curls. “Now that Mom and Dad are back to work, we’ll have a chance to do more fun sister-only things together. Do you want to go to the movies this weekend?”

  “Sure. But I still hate them.” Avery wipes her wet face on Gran’s sweater.

  “You don’t hate them. You just hate their jobs,” I remind her. But my parents live for their films. Work is their sole identity. So, in reality, Avery speaks the truth.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  One week without Travis. I survive my new, unreal world. It’s amazing how in a blink, my life slipped out of focus. I trudge through my daily routine, though everything looks fuzzy and gray.

  In class, I daydream about him, rushing home from college, wanting to tell me he changed his mind about us. But my thoughts are purely wishful. At home, no one knocks on the door. Even Mr. Brennen is strangely absent, as if he fears I’ll break down at the sight of him.

  ***

  Two weeks without Travis.

  My heart still hurts, but I can make it through the day without crying. I never admitted my true feelings until it was too late, but would it have made a difference? Travis never said the word out loud, but the way he held me, the way he kissed me… I thought it was love.

  ***

  Sixteen days after Travis leaves, Mr. Brennen makes an appearance, toolbox in hand.

  “Hey there, Becca. How are you?”

  Our eyes meet and a silent apology flows from him to me.

  “I’m okay,” I say. Happiness is not an emotion I’m anywhere near approaching right now. “Are you looking for Gran?”

  “Yes, she called about the furnace.” He steps into the kitchen and shifts his hulking weight back and forth. After twenty years of working for my grandmother, Mr. Brennen still acts like an infrequent visitor in our house.

  “I’ll find her for you.” Before leaving, I turn back. I can’t seem to find a way to look directly at him. His eyes … they’re the same color as his son’s. So I talk to the floor. “How’s Travis?”

  “He’s okay too, Becca,” Mr. Brennen responds, his voice barely a whisper.

  ***

  Three weeks without Travis.

  Not a word from him. Not even a text. Did he delete me from his contacts? Unfriend me? Erase all thoughts of my existence?

  But the emptiness in my chest still burns me from the inside out.

  Today, I unhooked the charm bracelet from my wrist and stashed it, along with the flashlight, in an old shoebox. I tossed the blurry picture my dad took of us in the box, too, and shoved everything under my bed. I wonder if Travis kept my picture in his frame.

  Then I stretch out on my bed and stare at the maze of lines in the ceiling, ignoring my homework and Avery’s pleas to watch television.

  Mr. Brennen needs to come in here with some plaster. A can of paint or something.

  Val, being Val, calls twice a day to analyze my situation. An amateur therapist, she listens to my confused rambling. We spend hours dissecting every conversation between me and Travis, searching for clues about what caused his change of heart. It had to be me. The ‘this isn’t your fault’ line is always a big fat lie, right?

  ***

  Four weeks. Nothing from Travis.

  Will Gamen is back in the picture, though, thanks to Val’s prom date predicament. By this point in junior year, most of the upperclass women prefer a second round of flu shots over making an appearance at one of the freshman-heavy school mixers. Apparently, tonight’s dance is what Val calls “massively important” because the football team is running a bake sale as a fundraiser. Ha. Seriously, what do football players know about baking? Anyway, Val’s hoping to scope out the scene and find out who’s available for the big dance. We’re both still dateless, but if I miss the prom, I won’t feel like my life is no longer worth living. Val can’t imagine skipping such an awesome event.

  We enter the gym and circulate until we run into our soccer friends. After an hour or so of dancing, Val informs me, perhaps a little too loudly, that Will is here. And he’s staring at me. I turn my head to look for him. Our eyes meet across the dance floor. The song ends and everyone scatters, heading for the rest rooms or the spectacular bake sale. I work up the nerve, thanks to a blatant push from Val, to walk over to him.

  “Hey, Will. Long time no see,” I say, achieving a solid nine or ten on a scale of the most ludicrous opening statements ever. I take a seat next to him on the bottom row of bleachers, fighting the impulse to jab his arm like Travis did when he joked with me.

  Speaking of Travis, he was absolutely right about my verbal skill potential. Apparently, it doesn’t matter what I talk about, because Will’s just happy that I made an effort, even months after our breakup. He hasn’t dated anyone else seriously, he says. We manage to flirt over the blaring rock music and the laser light show vomiting out of the DJ booth.

  “I thought soccer girls were too cool for mixers,” he says.

  “Not when the prom is less than two months away. Why are you here?”

  He shifts his gaze around the dance floor, probably looking for his guy friends. “Football fundraiser. Mandatory attendance.”

  “Oh
, yeah, I heard something about the bake table,” I say, continuing my streak of wordy brilliance. He grins and his green eyes seem to glow. Without thinking, I smile back at him. Because Will’s a great guy. We had our ups and downs, but he always knew how to make me smile.

  “Hey - did you cut your hair?” I run my fingers through his shorter blond waves, finally zeroing on the reason why he looks slightly different.

  “Yeah, do you like it?” He cocks his head to the side, modeling the new style.

  “I liked it better longer,” I admit. “But I’ll still talk to you.”

  His grin widens. “I miss hanging out with you. Want to do something this weekend?”

  “Only if you promise to wear a hat.” When I relax into flirting mode, he reaches over and squeezes my hand. His grip is bone-crushing, but it wakes something up inside of me. I feel more alive than I have since Travis left.

  Will studies me for a long minute. “I can call you. But … I don’t want to piss anybody off, you know.”

  I detect a trace of fear in his voice. What did Travis do to him?

  Squaring my shoulders, I look Will straight in the eye. “Call me. There’s no one to piss off.”

  Surprisingly, after weeks of inner Travis-induced turmoil, Will’s happiness rubs off on me. We spend the rest of the dance chatting aimlessly in a dark corner of the gym, except for his half hour shift at the bake sale, time which Val soaks up by mercilessly pumping me for information.

  Back when we were dating, Will and I argued a lot. But, after Travis, I’ve lost the desire to fight. Is it really worth my time and energy to disagree over little things, like who has more homework, or why he never lets me drive his car? I don’t want to constantly disagree with Will. I just want to feel non-crappy. Tonight, life almost feels normal. I can’t totally forget Travis, but I push him aside for a minute here and there. Will makes me laugh, a real laugh, for the first time since New Year’s Eve.