Douchecanoe
With everything that had happened between myself, Zac and Taylor lately, I hadn’t really thought very much about the person I had (mostly jokingly) branded as my arch nemesis—Bella. Sure, we still had a class together, but it wasn’t a small class; it was easy to sit on the opposite side of the room and ignore her entirely.
Since the collaborative part of our Harry Potter project was in the past, there was no reason for me to even acknowledge that Bella and I were in the same room at all. It wasn’t heaven, but it was pretty damn close.
Somehow, even with everything else going on in my life, I had managed to finish the next draft of the project on my own. After Dr. Marley turned off The Green Mile and flipped the lights back on, I stood with the rest of the class to turn in two copies of my paper, and because that was just my luck, Bella ended up standing directly behind me.
“Georgina,” she called after me as I tried to scurry away. “Georgina!”
The louder she yelled, the faster I walked. We were absolutely causing a scene, and I didn’t care a bit. No, that was a lie. I cared. I hated being the center of attention like that. But I didn’t care a bit what Bella had to say to me. She was probably just going to tell me thanks for getting with Taylor because it had convinced Zac to come running back to her or something.
No, thanks. That was a conversation I could definitely live without.
A hand appeared out of nowhere and jerked me into one of the classrooms along the wall. Dizzy and reeling, I barely even registered that it was the devil himself—also known as Jordan Taylor Hanson—who had effectively rescued me from Bella.
“Oh, Georgie girl,” Taylor said. “What would you do without me?”
“Still be best friends with Zac, for one.”
Taylor chuckled, and I wanted to punch him. “Oh, but your life would be so much less interesting. And you’re not even going to thank me at all for rescuing you from Delta Dawn.”
“If I weighed that against all the reasons I had to curse your name, I think you’d be long dead.”
“You wound me, Georgie,” Taylor said. “You really do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you actually want something or are you just trying to gloat over saving me and pout because I don’t give a shit?”
“I just wanted to make sure we were okay,” he said, sounding strangely sincere. It was an odd look for him.
“We are not now nor will we ever be okay. Maybe someday, when this has somehow blown over and Zac is actually speaking to me again. Maybe. But even then, probably not.”
Taylor sighed. “Look, I didn’t wanna say this, but you kinda only have yourself to blame now. You wanna prove to Zac that you want him and get him to finally see what’s been in front of him all along? Sleeping with me again is probably not gonna do it.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I asked. “You think I haven’t been beating myself up for it? You think—you know what. Nevermind. I can’t talk to you about this.”
My words were barely intelligible, breaking off into a sob at the end. I hated Taylor even more for opening the floodgates, making me talk to him until I broke down and cried because he was right. It was my fault; regardless of the situation he put me in, I didn’t have to go through with it. I could have and should have walked away.
But I didn’t. And now here I was in some random empty classroom, crying on his shoulder—literally.
As soon as the waterworks started, Taylor pulled me into his arms, and it just made me hate him more. Because I didn’t really hate him at all. I knew to expect him to be an asshole, and as long as I remembered that, I could tolerate him. For reasons I didn’t understand, we really were friends. Friends who picked on each other constantly and had nothing in common, but friends.
The one and only thing we had in common was Zac. He was the reason we had met in the first place, and he was the thing making my life so difficult now.
It would almost be easier if I did just date Taylor, I realized. Sure, I would never feel for him what I felt for
Zac, but at least that would mean he could never break my heart the way Zac could and did on practically a daily basis.
As soon as this thought occurred to me, I realized that I really was losing it. I pulled away from Taylor and wiped my eyes, not caring if I smeared makeup all over my face.
“I, umm, I should go,” I stuttered out, still hiccuping as I struggled to stop crying. “Thanks for rescuing me or whatever. Whatever lets you feel like a knight in shining armor and not the douchecanoe you really are.”
Surprisingly, Taylor didn’t put up a fight. He dropped his arms to his sides and just… let me go. Just like that. I was so shocked that I tripped over my own feet on my way out of the room, and I was in such a hurry to get away that I barely even noticed who was coming out of the room across the hall. But then I heard Molly’s distinctive high-pitched giggle, and my head whipped up to see where the sound had come from.
Sure enough, there was Molly, stepping out of a small classroom that could be booked for TA sessions and things. A few other students were milling around, but she was practically glued to the side of a tall guy with strawberry blonde hair. I didn’t recognize him at all, but he looked older—it was something about the beard or the way he dressed in jeans and a blazer—and I guessed that he was the TA.
“Oh, Georgina,” Molly said, her eyes widening as she suddenly noticed me. They widened further as she glanced over my shoulder. “And… Taylor.”
“Umm, hey,” I choked out.
“Well, this is awkward,” Taylor said. “And as much as I would like to stick around and see how much more awkward it could possibly get, I think I’ve met my douchebag quota for the day.”
I watched him walk away, then turned back to Molly. She seemed to snap out of a trance then and glanced at her companion, then back at me. “Oh, George. This is Parker. He’s the TA for my Russian history class. We’ve got a big test coming up next week.”
“But she’s going to do fine,” Parker cut in. “Just like she has on every test so far.”
“Thanks to you,” Molly replied.
It was almost too obvious to be real. But it couldn’t be, right? I was positive that was against college policies. This Parker guy could lose his scholarship if he and Molly were actually dating. But that would definitely explain why Molly had been so reluctant to tell me who she was dating. She wasn’t just being shy and coy; she was protecting his job and scholarship.
I cleared my throat, hoping to make them realize how awkward and obvious they were being. “Well, I think… I guess I’m gonna head over to the student center and get some lunch. Umm, if you guys wanna come with…”
Molly looked up at Parker, and he gave a tiny little shake of his head. It was almost imperceptible, but I saw it. I still didn’t quite believe my eyes, though. It was almost as absurd as my thing with Taylor. Okay, maybe not that absurd. And if that could be real…
“I actually have another tutoring session in a few minutes,” Parker said, and I suspected he was lying. Molly seemed to think so too, but she didn’t call him out on it. What good would it have done if she did?
Molly gave him one last look, then looked back at me. “I’ll head over with you, but I have class this afternoon. I’ll have to grab something quick.”
“No worries,” I said. “I don’t have much of an appetite after the conversation I just had, anyway.”
Molly grinned. “Well, I was curious before, but now I definitely need to hear all about it.”
I just rolled my eyes and scurried on ahead of her. I wasn’t mad at all, but I definitely didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. Taylor had, surprisingly, kept his mouth shut about me and Zac, and so for now, he was the only person who knew the truth. I still had no clue how to explain it to Molly and Peyton. Sure, it wasn’t as bad as being with Taylor, but putting it all into context… it still looked pretty bad.
But I had a feeling I was going to have to figure out how to explain it to them, and fast.
When we walked into the student center, Peyton was already seated at our usual table. I took my time getting a burrito, but even that time didn’t allow me to formulate a good way to explain my situation to them.
I was screwed. And not in the good way.
“Hey, George,” Peyton said when I sat down. “Molly came in with you, right? I think I saw Zac, too.”
“Umm, I don’t know,” I replied. “I mean, I haven’t seen him. But yeah, Molly is—”
“Right here,” she said, plopping down in a seat next to me. Waving her arm toward someone in line for pizza, she called out, “Zac! We’ve got another seat!”
His only response was to scowl and turn his back to us.
“What the hell?” Molly asked. “I thought he was over that whole thing about you and Taylor. Not that I would blame him if he wasn’t, by the way.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, feeling my face heating up. This was not going to be a fun conversation at all. “It’s not exactly because of me and Taylor. Well, it is but it’s… well. It’s just. Frankly, a total clusterfuck.”
“That seems an especially appropriate word,” Peyton remarked.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t disagree. “You have no idea how right you are. It’s not… it’s not just because I slept with Taylor. But because I may have kinda sorta slept with Zac too. And then Taylor again.”
Why waste in any more time, I figured. Might as well just rip the band-aid off all at once and get it over with. And then run away and hide from my best friends’ reactions.
“Can we back up to the part where you slept with Zac?” Peyton asked.
“I don’t know, is that really the most fucked up part of that sentence?” Molly shook her head.
I groaned and laid my head down on the table, not caring that it probably hadn’t been cleaned in my lifetime. My voice a bit muffled, I replied, “I think I’m the most fucked up part of that sentence.”
“So, okay, you cheated on Zac with Taylor,” Peyton said. “I can see why he’d be pissed.”
My head snapped up and I shook it vigorously. “No, no, no. Zac and I weren’t dating. I mean, I don’t think we were. He definitely never said we were or acted like we were, aside from… well, what happened. Which was just twice. And when he found out about me and Taylor—again—he just gave up and walked away. No indication whatsoever that he was gonna fight for me or that he wanted to or wanted me or anything. I get that he’s pissed off, but…”
“And you think he would be pissed off if he didn’t have feelings for you?” Molly raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know!” I squealed, attracting the attention of a nearby table. Lowering my voice, I continued, “I really don’t know what he’s thinking. He gets upset, yeah, but I don’t know. Jealousy? If he’s never going to act like he loves me too—let alone admit it–how can he act so jealous?”
“But why would he act so jealous… if he didn’t?”
I shook my head again. “No. No way. He just… doesn’t. He doesn’t love me.”
I didn’t sound very convincing, I realized. There was a good reason for that. I wasn’t so sure I believed what I was saying at all.
Could Zac really be in love with me too?
He couldn’t be… or could he?