Remember This Part

5. The Ex-Boyfriend Is Not a Crowd Favorite

Thea.

I happen to notice that Alex doesn't show up to our Developmental Psych class for a few days, which means he's gonna have a buttload of work to catch up on. I find myself scanning the room for him whenever I arrive. I'm anxious to know how his grandmother is doing, and I kind of want to check in. A couple months ago, I discovered Angel's, this amazing bakery downtown. It has some of the fluffiest churros I've ever tasted, and I'd love to get a batch for Imelda. After everything she's been through, she deserves a churro.

When class ends, Professor Alma sends us home with a few annotations due and a study sheet for our next test. I decide not to think about it for a while. Instead, I plan to head back to my room and watch a rerun of Dance Moms. What can I say? Every once in a while, I'm just in the mood to see overzealous parents crying backstage as their kids bust down to Lady Gaga.

My plans are interrupted, however, when I see Malcolm's car next to my dorm. A big part of me just wants to ignore it and head inside. I've hardly talked to him in the last few days. To be honest, I don't really care that he was out with a bunch of people (specifically girls) I've never met. We're technically not even together right now (it's complicated). I'm just sick of how callous he gets when he's partying. He acts like everything revolves around him, to the point that he didn't even care about a sick old lady.

But then he's stepping out of the car, and I can't help but admire him. Long sweater, ripped jeans, soft curls tucked under a ski cap. He smiles at me, and I feel my determination to stay mad at him start to wane ever so slightly. I don't smile back, at least. I watch him approach me easily, and then he's slinging his arm over my shoulders.

"Let's get ramen," he says. "I'm starving."

I pull myself out from under his arm and coldly reply, "Then you should've eaten." He looks taken aback, like he can't imagine why I would be upset with him. He's so clueless. Or he pretends to be.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I guess you were too drunk to remember," I mutter. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face.

"You're pissed because I was out with my roommates?"

"Huh, Ben really sounds like a woman over the phone," I hiss. Ouch. I guess I am upset about that girl he was with. Malcolm rolls his eyes.

"Are you talking about Ursa?" he asks, annoyed. "Seriously? Damn, you're so childish sometimes. As if I'd ever get with Ursa. She's a slut. There, are you happy?"

"Don't say that," I snap. "This has nothing to do with her. I'm angry because you act like a douchebag when you're drunk."

"Fine, let me fix that—I'll act like a douchebag all the time. Is that what you want?" His voice is starting to rise, now, so I know I should just drop everything to keep this from escalating.

But in my fury, I make the fatal mistake of mumbling, "You already do."

I can be such an idiot.

"Are you kidding me, Thea?" he growls. "I take you out. I buy you dinner. I do all this shit for you, just so you can pick a fight with me? When will you just grow up?"

I flinch and turn away on instinct. Relax, I internally tell myself. He's never hit you.

"I'm going inside," I whisper. Malcolm releases a frustrated breath.

"Thea," he says. I swallow and cross my arms, daring to look him in the eye as he adds, "Look, whatever, okay? I'm sorry. Let's just get something to eat." I look back at the entrance to my dorm. I'm no longer in the mood to watch Dance Moms.