Who Breaks First (Clearwater University)

I hear my phone ring, and I pick it up anxiously, wondering if it’s Trent calling. But it’s my dad. Shit, shit, shit. Do I answer it or not? In a moment of panic, I press ACCEPT and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hey, what’s up? Is everything okay?” I press a hand to the silky fabric over my heart, trying to calm the rapid flutter of my heart.

“Oh, everything’s fine. Just wanted to tell you that I picked Claire up, and she’s going on and on about how you and Trent have patched things up. Trent called her and said you and he are starting over. Going back to the way things were in high school.”

“Yep. That’s right!” I say with a forced smile, looking up at the clock once more and then over to the mirror, where I can still see the image of me in a negligee.

I feel a little sick. Except Dad doesn’t realize one thing—when Trent said we’re going back to how things were in high school, he probably meant the worst parts of high school.

“I just think that’s great,” he goes on, and I can hear Claire’s soft murmur of agreement in the background. “You know, it means a lot to both of us that you and Trent are making an effort. It really means a lot.”

“Of course, Dad. Have fun on your date!” I say, desperately searching for a way to end this phone call.

“And we’re thinking there may be some holiday plans in our future.”

“What?”

That stops me in my tracks. I think I may actually throw up.

“I said, Claire and I are thinking that a family holiday trip might be fun. We don’t have anything booked yet. We’re just making preliminary plans.”

“Um, yeah, sure, Dad. That sounds like a really great idea.”

Oh my God, I feel like I’m dying. The tension inside me is about to explode. Eyeing the clock, I pace around the dorm, which is set up like two bedrooms side by side—one half mine, the other half Leslie’s.

It’s already seven p.m. Maybe Trent will be late?

My mind is spinning, and I can’t decide whether or not to throw on a robe and bring this insane revenge plan to an end. It would be easy to do. I could just tell Trent I’m so sorry, I need a few more minutes to get ready, blah, blah, blah. I could close the laptop, and he and I could order pizza or something.

“Okay, Ems. Gotta go. We just got to the restaurant, and I don’t want to be a bad date,” Dad finally says. I can hear Claire laughing in the background, and she sounds so happy that it breaks my heart.

“Have fun. Love you,” I say through numb lips.

“Love you too.”

I hang up the phone and walk toward my laptop. I put my hand on top of it, almost ready to close it, when I hear a knock at the door.

“Oh, shit,” I mutter to myself.

This is it. It’s the point of no return.

I either do this and deal with the consequences, whatever they might be, or I walk away. I let Trent get away with every fucked up thing he did to me. With all the fucked up shit he still plans to do.

I can’t. I’m sorry, Dad. I can’t just let it go.

This is war, and in every battle, there’s collateral damage. I’ll deal with the fallout later, but right now, the game is fucking on.

Letting go of the laptop, I leave it open and walk slowly toward the door.

“Coming!” I call out, taking one last look in the mirror to make sure everything looks alright.

Then I open it, and the whoosh of air as the door swings wide makes the flimsy, silky fabric of the negligee dance against my bare skin.

14

Trent

As I’m walking to Emma’s, a strange feeling stirs in my gut.