The Breakup Support Group

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah it does,” I say, peering up into his troubled eyes. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.”

My jaw works, but nothing comes out of it. I close my mouth then try again. “Nate?”

His lips form a flat line, and he puts a gentle hand on my lower back. “Come on, let’s find a room or something.” His voice is gravelly like I’m in trouble—or like he is.

I glance into my cup and confirm that I’ve only had a few sips. I’m not even tipsy. So why is the room spinning? Why is my heart suddenly in a war with my chest, desperate to get out?

I want to dig my feet into the carpet and refuse to move until things are okay again. But I feel the pressure of his hand on my back as he leads me through the crowds of happy partying teenagers and guides us into the hallway. He grabs a bronze doorknob and twists it open, revealing a pristine guest room with a king-size bed and crimson drapes over the windows. The last time we sneaked off into this room, it was to get to third base.

But the horrifying feeling in my gut tells me this time will be different.

Chapter Four

Nate walks over to the window and peers out of the crack between the drapes as if there’s anything to be seen out there besides an empty field. He turns slowly back around, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watches me. I hover by the foot of the bed, the beating of my heart so hard inside my skull that even if he were speaking, I might not hear it.

“Isla,” he begins before stopping and watching me some more. His eyes wander around my face, looking anywhere but into my eyes. His six-foot-two-inch frame seems half as tall now that he’s standing so far away. His shoulders are slumped, not straight and imposing like usual.

“What is this?” I say, weirdly proud that my voice doesn’t crack. Nate has seen all sides of me—I shouldn’t care if he sees me break now. He’s seen it before.

“It’s—” he begins, only to stop again and draw in another deep breath. His hands seem to bury even further into his jeans pockets as if the words he’s looking for are hidden down there. I wonder if he’s magically controlling my heart in those pockets—his fists clenching tighter with every second. Because it sure as hell feels like my heart is about to burst.

“Did you cheat on me or something?” My voice holds strong because I already know the answer to the question. Of course he didn’t. It’s just another straw that I’m grasping, trying to get him to talk.

“No, Isla. Oh my God, I’d never do that.”

“Then talk to me, dammit!” This time, my voice does break. The room alights with an orange glow. We both turn toward the windows where the cracks between the drapes are pulsing with light from the bonfire. They’ve started the fun without us. I am positive that no one even notices we are gone. “Look at me,” I snap, demanding his attention away from the dancing flames. “Why did you bring me up here and what the hell do you want to tell me, Nate?”

His shoulders lift and fill out his massive frame. I can almost feel the gears working in his mind, telling him to man up and grow some balls and get it over with. His eyes meet mine now, a hint of anger hiding behind them. But maybe it’s all just for show. His jaw moves and then his lips press closed. I know him well enough to know he’s wondering if he can just change the subject, just turn around and go back down to the party.

“Tell me or I’m leaving,” I say.

His hands slide out of his pockets and flatten against his thighs. “We need to break up.”

I had suspected as much. But now that the words are out in the air, they wrap around my neck and slam into my heart and rip me apart from the inside. Time seems to stop in this pristine guest bedroom. My chest is full of invisible daggers. My heart is no longer beating. I can’t breathe.

Nate runs a hand through his short brown hair. His bottom lip trembles and his eyes are focused on mine, unblinking. Shouts and shrieks of joy filter up from our friends outside. The world is still going on everywhere else but in this room.

In this room, the world has ended and time has stopped, and it’ll never be okay again. I blink, and warm tears roll down my cheeks. They pool in my eyes and distort the man standing in front of me, turning him into a cartoonish blob of the person I used to know. I draw in a ragged breath. “Why?”

“Isla, I’m so sorry.” He takes a step closer to me, his arms lift and his hands reach for mine.

I back away. “If you’re sorry then take it back,” I say through the sobs that are coming like Niagara Falls now. “If you’re sorry then don’t do this.”

“Isla, I have to.” Another step toward me. I back against the wall, pulling my hands behind me so he can’t grab them. He doesn’t deserve to touch me. Nate’s face is twisted in pain. “Babe, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head and tears slide off my cheeks. “Why are you doing this? We’re perfect together.”

“I don’t want to, but we need to end things now. Honey, everyone breaks up before college. Staying together is just delaying the inevitable.”

“Don’t call me honey,” I hiss, shaking my head. My hands ball into fists. “And that is the stupidest excuse, ever. We don’t have to break up. We’re planning on going to the same college, Nate! We’ll still see each other at Sam Houston State!”

He looks around the room, his eyes wide and anxious. “What?” I say, stepping forward. “You want me to keep my voice down so no one hears?”

“Uh yeah, actually. We don’t need to cause a scene.” He trails a hand down my arm, and I yank it away.