The Heartbreaker

When the professor starts speaking, I finally set my phone aside and look up, ready to take notes. In doing so, I inadvertently look around and find that Jagger isn’t sitting anywhere near me. He’s on the other side of the classroom, in the middle row, with a woman sidled up to his seat. Not a woman. That woman. The one I saw him having sex with that night. I hate the feeling of jealousy that envelops me instantly. I really shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t. I turned him down last night. Rightfully so. I take a deep breath and focus on the professor, but spend the majority of the class distracted. The girl he’s with keeps putting her hand on his arm, on his shoulder, on his thick, unruly hair. I wonder how long they’ve been hooking up. She’s obviously not his girlfriend. I wonder if she wants to be, then snort softly at my own question. Of course she wants to be. They all want to be. It was like that when we were young as well. There were always girls, usually cheerleaders, trying to get with him. With the three Cruz brothers, if I’m being honest. It drove Misty crazy that one summer that she was dating Mitch.

Before I know it, the class is over, and people start heading outside. Because I’m sitting right by the back door, I twist my body so that my feet aren’t in the way of anyone walking by as I put away my things in my large crossbody and look for my phone again. As I’m zipping it closed, I look up to see Jagger walking by with the girl. She’s pretty up close, a brunette with fair skin and freckles over her nose and cheeks. She doesn’t look in my direction, but she’s smiling wide and flirtatious as she turns and looks at Jagger who’s right behind her. He doesn’t look at me either, just keeps his attention on her as she speaks to him. My heart tightens as they walk off. I stand up and walk out, staying far behind them as we head in the same direction, but I can’t seem to look away from them. I feel like a stalker, watching them so closely. A legit stalker, because even as they turn toward Lenoir Hall, I turn with them. There’s a group of guys who are obviously athletes, and that’s where they stop and I keep going. I to go to work anyway. I don’t have time to think about my confused feelings.

“Don’t worry about the bathrooms tonight,” Donna says as she gets up from her desk. “Milton says you did a bad job last time.”

“Milton said that?” My mouth falls open. “I did a great job!”

“That’s not what he said.” Donna laughs. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I need you to open the door for someone. I’m celebrating my thirty-eighth anniversary tonight, so your father told me to leave early.” She looks at her watch. “I’m already late.”

“What door do I open?” I frown.

“The front door, silly. It’ll be locked.”

“Oh.” I look at the front door, then at the clock over the door. “But it’s five-oh-five. We’re closed. Dad’s taking a patient at this time?”

“He is.”

“I thought he didn’t do that anymore? Mom is going to be so mad.”

“He made an exception.” Donna shoots me a look. “Now, can I trust you’ll do a better job with the door than you did with the toilets?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She laughs as she walks away and calls out, “Turn that frown upside down.”

“Sure,” I mutter and go back to sweeping.

Dad shares the practice with two other doctors. The three of them are the most coveted in orthopedics in the United States. People fly here from all over the country and all over the world to get second opinions and surgeries. Mondays, two out of three are usually out of the office. Today, Dad is the one who happens to be here, which is why he designated me to clean every Monday as penance. I set the broom aside and walk over to his office, knocking on the slightly open door to see if he needs anything and reprimand him for telling someone to come in after hours after he promised he wouldn’t go home late anymore.

“Come in.”

I open the door a little wider. “Donna said someone is coming in soon.”

“That is correct.” He looks up from the papers in front of him. “Is that a problem?”

“I thought you weren’t going to stay at work late anymore.”

“I assure you I ran this by your mother.” He raises an amused eyebrow. “Am I in trouble with you?”

“No.” I purse my lips to contain a smile. “Do you need anything?”

“Not at the moment. Do you want to help me with rehab?”

“Sure.” I shrug a shoulder. “Anything is better than cleaning.”