Who Breaks First (Clearwater University)

But after another few minutes, I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

/> “Something wrong with the fish?” I ask Emma. She looks up at me like I have no right to remark upon her eating habits.

“It’s fine.” Her voice is hard as glass.

“Probably cost more than my steak,” I add. “Shame for you to pick at it like a child.”

The table goes silent as the vibe finally gets weird enough that no one can ignore it anymore. Good. This goddamn charade has gone on long enough.

“You can always pack it up to go, sweetheart.” Paul pats her hand.

“Sweetheart!” I scoff. If Paul Holloway really knew anything about his daughter, he would not be calling her sweetheart.

“Trent,” my mom says in a quiet hiss, turning to face me with wide eyes.

She looks embarrassed, Emma looks mortified, and Paul looks confused. The evening is young, but I guess we’re off to a good start.

11

Emma

I don’t even know what I ordered for dinner, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t possibly eat it.

When we approached the table, I didn’t register immediately that it was Trent Cooper sitting next to the woman in the black dress. From across the restaurant, I saw a guy sitting at a table with a woman, and he seemed to be smiling at her. Now he’s leering at me, and I don’t know what to do.

I drop my head, staring down at my fish, and the sight of it makes me want to gag. Is this really happening? I can tell Dad is uncomfortable and confused. He keeps shooting me glances even as he makes overly cheerful conversation with his new girlfriend.

Trent’s damn mother.

Jesus, kill me now.

Every time I lock gazes with the man across from me, he looks like he’s going to kill me or something. Despite the tension that seems to make the air too thick to breathe, when I catch my dad sharing a look with Claire, there’s a warm gleam in his eye. It’s such a heartbreakingly sweet look that it makes my heart clench. I’m happy he’s found someone after so many years of being alone… but dammit, I hate this so much.

I try to shove down the emotions roiling inside me, but there’s no way I can force myself to eat. There’s just not enough room inside my body for food. Every square inch is taken up by my fucked up feelings.

When Trent makes fun of me for not touching my food, I’m struck with the nearly overwhelming urge to jam my fork into his eye. I grip it so hard the metal almost bends instead.

“Yeah, I think that I’ll just bring it home with me,” I tell Dad, my voice raspy from the effort of speaking.

“You can have it for breakfast tomorrow.” Trent snorts, curling his lip.

You can have my fist in your face for breakfast tomorrow, you fucking asshole.

The words beat against my closed lips, but I’m trying like hell to hold down my anger for my dad’s sake. He’s in love with Claire. I can feel it. I can see it in the way they act together. But why the hell did he have to fall in love with the mother of my worst enemy?

That thought sticks in my brain like a burr, refusing to be dislodged. It’s something I’ve never understood, even after all this time—why is it that Trent is the worst of them all? I can tolerate Reese, and I have to admit that what happened between us in the library conference room made my heart race with something other than fear for once. Even West is tolerable sometimes, because he’s so quiet we can just let things simmer and carry on with our lives. But Trent is the opposite. He throws everything in my face, and I don’t even know why he does it.

“Maybe she’s watching her figure.” His tone is rough and deep, the kind of voice that might make me melt if not for the fact that every time he speaks, his words come out coated in acid. “She has filled out a bit since high school.”

Deadly silence comes over the table, but a loud rushing sound fills my ears anyway. I’m literally seeing a halo of red around the edges of my vision, and Trent’s eyebrows raise, as if daring me to use my sharp metal utensils the way I really want to.

“Trent!” Claire’s voice sharpens in dismay, and she turns to me. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“Come on, Trent,” Dad says through his teeth, clearly angry that the asshole would say such a thing.

“There are just a lot of nerves at this table.” His mom affixes a shaky smile to her face, putting her hands in the air. “These things can be complicated. I know neither of you were expecting this, and maybe we sprung it on you too quickly. But let’s all take a breath and try to relax.”

“I feel completely relaxed.” Trent shrugs, slouching back in his seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”