Break Up with Him, for Me (You Belong With Me 1)

“If you want to snitch on me, go ahead and snitch,” I say. “It won’t make one bit of a difference.”

“Want to bet?”

“Absolutely.” I shrug. “It’s a shame you flew all this way for chance at silver or bronze. We both know there’s not a chance in hell you’ll win gold over me, but I love how you get your hopes up. It’s cute.”

“You’re a bitch.”

“You’re a bigger one.”

She storms away without another word and the doors glide shut.

When I make it downstairs to the lobby, I walk out of the doors and across the campus toward the hot tubs.

Rock music is blaring from the speakers, and I easily recognize the hard metal from Jackson’s playlist.

I walk to the towel stand, but then I notice that Jackson isn’t here alone. He’s with another guy in the hot tub and they’re kissing each other like no one is watching.

I stare at them as Jackson pulls the guy into his lap, as their tongues collide, and it’s not until the song ends that Jackson happens to look over at me.

“Oh, shit.” Jackson’s eyes widen. “Penelope, stay right there. I can explain.”

“Don’t bother.” I turn away and rush back to my hotel.

When I make it back to my room, I flop onto the bed. I try not to cry, but it’s no use.

I turn on the TV and flip to a dubbed version of When Harry Met Sally.

In the middle of the meet cute, a knock sounds at my door.

“We’re over, Jackson!” I call out, walking over to it. “I don’t even care that you’re gay. It’s the lies and the—”

I stop talking at the sight of Hayden standing in the hallway.

“So, your boyfriend was gay like I told you he was?” He smiles.

“No.” I avoid his eyes. “No, he was not. I was saying the lines of a TV show aloud.”

He glances behind me. “There’s a commercial on right now.”

My cheeks redden and I struggle to find the words to say. It’s been three days since we last spoke, and he’s supposed to be pitching his dating app to people in California.

“Why aren’t you in L.A.?” I change the subject. “I was planning to stay up for five more hours to call you.”

“Since I know that you’re not going to admit that I was right anytime soon…” He opens his backpack and pulls out a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough and a plastic pink spoon. “I fucking told you so.”

Before I can slam the door in his face, he pulls me close for a hug.

“Thanks for not rubbing it in.” I smile.

“I’m still planning to rub it in,” he says. “I just want to give you a few more hours before I officially start.”

“Did you really book a twelve-hour flight just to laugh at me?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re smiling, Hayden.”

“Am I? I’m not trying to.” His dimples deepen. “I don’t see anything funny about this situation at all. I mean, I did tell you that your boyfriend spent more time asking about me than you, but what do I know?”

“Is that a man out in the hallway?” My coach calls out from around the corner. “Who is that?”

I pull Hayden into the room and shut the door.

“So, you woke up this morning and randomly decided to fly to Sochi?”

“No,” he says. “But once Travis told me that he wasn’t coming, I didn’t think you should be alone. I booked a suite at the hotel across the street.”

I smile. “Thank you for coming and being here for me.”

“It’s what friends do.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’ll expect something in return down the line.”

“I should’ve known.”

“I got you this,” he says, pulling a blue box from his pocket. “Saw this in L.A. and figured you might appreciate it.”

I flipped the box open, staring at the charm of entwined skates that hung on a silver necklace.

The letters WWHS are engraved on the front.

“WWHS?” I ask. “What does that mean?”

“It means you can cut down on calling me with so many questions because you can just ask yourself, ‘What would Hayden say?’” He motions for me to flip it over. “And then, once you disregard that advice and fail, you can get a head start on hearing me say, I told you so.”

“Thank you for officially giving me the worst gift I’ve ever received.”

“You’re welcome.” He motions for me to turn around so he can clasp it around my neck. Then his eyes meet mine in the mirror.

“You’re all that Travis talks about,” he says. “He really measures every move he makes with you in mind, and I think you should cut him some slack. He lost his parents, too.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Good.” He walks over to the tower and picks up one of the swans, reading the words aloud. “Sometimes I feel torn with myself over liking a beautiful woman as you. Someone who is so close to him. I really like you and I appreciate how you bring him around. Always.”