wiped.
“That’s not a sad tear, right?”
“No way.”
“Good.” He smiles at me, then looks up at the sky. “Do you ever look at the stars and think of someone you dig?”
Like probably every other lovesick teen, of course I’ve done this before, but not in years and years. I shake my head. “No, I guess I don’t.”
“You don’t?” His voice is incredulous. “I figured that’s totally something you would do.”
“Do you do it?”
“I did. Robbyn and I used to do it all the time. Mostly during our last tour. She didn’t travel with us as much then because she had so much other stuff going on.” He looks out over the water. “I don’t do it anymore.”
He shrugs and I wonder why on God’s green earth he chose this moment to bring up Robbyn. Seems like a bit of a buzzkill, no? I also wonder why I haven’t seen her at any of the shows I’ve been at. It’s my understanding she goes everywhere with them. She’s like their traveling personal assistant or something. (Yippee.)
“Where’s Robbyn been?” I ask. “I haven’t seen her.”
“I don’t think you’d know her if you saw her. Any pics you’ve seen of her are probably old. She looks completely different. She’s gained some weight, dyed her hair, wears tons and tons of makeup. Not the same girl, for sure.”
“You do that to her?” I’m joking, of course, but the way he reacts makes me realize I hit the nail on the head.
“Told you I was a piece of shit.”
Do I really want to go there? I’m not sure if I do. Here, just inches in front of us, is the Charles River. Just inches behind us is a blanket strewn with rose petals. Talking to Niles about his ex-girlfriend does not seem to fit this scene. I’d much rather be canoodling. Yet, it’s starting to seem like he brought this up for a reason. Maybe there’s something he wants to get off his chest.
“So . . . where has she been?” I guess if this question is answered sufficiently—as in, she and I can’t stand to be within twenty miles of each other anymore, so she’s moved to Timbuktu—I’ll let it all go. The ball is in his court.
“She’s around. She was there tonight. And the last time you were there, in Philly.”
“She was?!” This is monumental to me. Tonight, he snuck me away, but in Philly, he was like a tumor on me the entire time. Did she see us? I think back and try to remember a cute girl that maybe was a little chubby and wore lots of makeup. No one in particular stands out. There was a girl that was with Jase a lot, but I swore she had light brown hair. Was that her?
“So, she’s . . . seen us together?” My breath catches as this question comes out. I don’t know why I feel so weird about this. If they’re broken up and we’re—I don’t even know what we are—what’s the big deal? There shouldn’t be one. But yet I feel so dirty.
“She has, yes. I thought you should know that. That’s kind of why I brought this up. I wanted to get it out of the way so we could, you know, move on.”
Well, this isn’t the most opportune time to bring it up, but okay. I guess I should be happy he’s willing to share this with me. Maybe this somehow validates our “togetherness?” Maybe?
“Is she taking it okay?”
“Most definitely not. Again, that’s why I brought it up. She’s not, how do I say this nicely, particularly stable right now.” He pauses and chews his lip for a moment. “She came up behind me when I was texting you the other day, Kallie. I didn’t know she was there . . . until I heard the camera on her phone. I think she snapped a pic of my screen when I had your number up.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m super sorry, but if you get any nasty texts, consider this your fair warning. Just ignore her. Okay?” He looks at me hopefully.
I’m really not sure what to say. I obviously don’t know their situation nor do I fully understand the reason behind their breakup (a couple blogs reported they split amicably because
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