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ALLIE

Can we talk?

Plz??

WTF, Allie. After everything we’ve been thru, I deserve more then that.

You didn’t mean it when you said we were done, right?

Will you plz fuckin ANSWER me?

You know what? Fuck this. You wanna keep ignoring me? fine. Whatever.

There are six text messages waiting for me when I check my phone on the way out of the campus fitness center on Friday night. They’re all from Sean, my as-of-last-night ex. And although the emotional progression from pleading to pissed off doesn’t go unnoticed, I find myself fixating on his grammatical error.

“I deserve more then that.”

Then, not than. And I doubt autocorrect is to blame because Sean isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. He’s whip-smart about some things. Like baseball—seriously, the guy can pull stats out of his ass, even ones dating back to the sixties. But book smarts are not his forte. Stellar boyfriend doesn’t quite make his list of strengths either, at least not in recent days.

I never wanted to be one of those girls who breaks up and makes up with the same guy over and over again. I really thought I was stronger than that, but Sean McCall has had a hold on me since freshman year at Briar University. He sucked me in with his preppy good looks and little-boy grin. That gorgeous grin, all crooked and dimpled and full of promises.

I glance at my phone again, my wariness climbing like the ivy on the building behind me. Argh. What does he want to talk about? We said everything we needed to say last night. When I told him I was done before I stormed out of his frat house, I’d meant it.

I am done. This is our fourth breakup in three years. I can’t keep doing this to myself, this twisted cycle of joy and heartache, especially when the person I’m supposed to be building a future with is determined to hold me back.

Even so, my heart hurts. It’s hard to let go of someone who’s been such a big part of your life for so long. It’s even harder when that person refuses to let you go.

Sighing, I hurry down the steps toward the cobblestone path that winds through campus. Usually I take the time to admire the scenery—the gorgeous old buildings, the wrought-iron benches and massive shade trees—but tonight I just want to sprint back to my dorm, pull the covers over my head, and shut out the world. Luckily, I can totally do that because my roommate Hannah is away this weekend, which means she won’t be around to lecture me about the emotional perils of wallowing in my misery.