The Thing About Three

chapter forty | the thing about three

BREAK-UPS SUCK. No matter how they happen or why they occur, they always suck, even if you're relieved to be broken up like I was.

I think that the worst part of a break-up is that all the memories you made with your ex are now tainted.

I figured that out when I was cleaning off the top of my dresser back at my dad's house. It had become a sort of shrine for all the things Noah had given me over the years. It had ticket stubs from the movies we had gone to, receipts from our dinner dates, and the dead daisy chain and matching dead daisy bouquet he had given me.

It hurt to look back on all the happy memories and know that we had ended how we did—that all my silly fantasies of our future together had been just that. Silly fantasies.

Another downside to our breakup was that I had given him parts of me that I couldn't take back, and he had seen me in ways I wanted to erase from his memory, that I wanted to prevent him from looking back on whenever he pleased and keep him from painting pictures about those intimate moments to others. It made me angry that I had given him so much–that I had thought we would last forever–but it also gave me valuable insight.

It made me realize that I shouldn't be so trusting of others, especially boyfriends, even when they feel like the most trusting person in the world at the moment, because you never know what will happen between the two of you down the line.

Noah and I officially ended our relationship via a phone call an hour after I had left our apartment, when he finally realized I was gone.

I told him what I had discovered, rolling my eyes to myself as he pleaded with me to "come back" and that "it's all a big misunderstanding" because "she means nothing to me!"

We kept going back and forth until Noah gave up and went on the offense, cursing my name and telling me everything that he wouldn't miss about me, his anger getting the better of him.

His anger worried me, and made me think about all the things he could tell people about me.

I didn't listen to his tirade for long, hanging up before he could find a new name to call me.

I stared at my phone for a long time after hanging up, watching the flood of hateful text messages roll in as I debated whether I should tell Dallas or not. Hallie and Sierra told me that I should wait a while and let myself process everything before I made that call. I agreed, and then called him that night.

"Hey," he answered immediately. "You okay? Everything good? You haven't called in a long time."

"Yeah, sorry, I've just been busy," I told him.

"Yeah, me too, with my graduation coming up and all that. By the way, you are coming, right? It's a little over two months from now, I think. May 27th or something like that."

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Good, good. I'll finally get to show you my apartment. Uh . . . is Noah coming, too?"

I guess it's time, I thought to myself. I took in a breath, feeling nervous all of a sudden. But I wasn't able to get the words out, all because I heard a voice in the background of the call.

"Baby, come lay back down with me," a feminine voice said.

Dallas whispered something back to the voice, and then reiterated his question, waiting for me to answer like I wasn't sick to my stomach picturing some beautiful girl lying in his bed. I suddenly didn't want to talk to him anymore.

It didn't feel like our conversation would be private any longer, because the girl had infiltrated my thoughts—sitting back all pretty as she waited with a cold smile for me to speak.