“Oh no,” Allie murmurs. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“We were at a party, and she was acting all clingy again, not letting me talk to anyone, refusing to let go of my hand. She even followed me into the fucking bathroom. I was frustrated and angry, and I started pounding beers because it was the only way to pass the time. She didn’t want to leave, but she also wouldn’t leave my side. I was actually considering breaking up with her right then, and I guess she sensed it because next thing I know she’s dragging me upstairs.” Regret throbs inside me. “I was disgustingly wasted, not to mention seventeen and horny, so I wasn’t exactly fighting her off. We had sex. And then afterward, she admitted she was a virgin.”
“Shit.”
“If I’d known, I would have been more…I don’t know, careful? Gentler? I was sloppy drunk and she got a sloppy lay. For her first time, Allie. I felt like a total ass the next day, but Miranda wasn’t mad. She said she felt closer to me than ever, and after that, it was like DEFCON level clinginess. Suddenly she was planning college visits and saying how we should think about getting engaged, that a stronger commitment would make it easier to stay true to each other.” My stomach churns just thinking about it. I hadn’t even turned eighteen at that point.
“So like any teenage boy would, you freaked out and ended it.”
I nod.
She sighs. “I don’t blame you. I’m sure anyone would feel overwhelmed in that situation.”
“Maybe. But…Miranda didn’t handle the breakup too well,” I confess, fighting the nausea clawing at my gut. “Turns out she’d dealt with depression in the past, but she never told me about it. I never would’ve guessed either, because she was so happy and easygoing all the time. But I found out that’s because of the meds she was taking. The meds she stopped taking after I ended it.”
“Shit,” Allie says again.
“She changed completely. She was crying all the time, screaming at me in the halls, calling me in the middle of the night threatening to kill herself. I had no choice but to involve her dad, because I was terrified she might actually commit suicide. Frank pulled her out of school after that, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
Allie’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“Frank wouldn’t allow it.” The frustration I felt back then rises again now. “He told me Miranda was back on her meds and getting professional help. Oh, and that if I ever tried to contact her again, he would rip my throat out. That didn’t stop me from worrying about her. I mean, I still cared about her even though we were broken up, so about a month after she left school, I cornered Coach in the parking lot and demanded to see Miranda.” My jaw twitches. “And he punched me in the face.”
“Oh my God. Did anyone see him do it?”
“No. It was late, and he was coming out of a staff meeting. Nobody else was around. But yeah, he clocked me good. That’s when I found out that Miranda told him we had sex. She also told him I was drunk out of my mind when it happened.”
“Well, that’s not cool,” Allie says angrily.
“None of it was cool. I shouldn’t have let her seduce me that night, absolutely.” Bitterness clogs my throat. “But she let her father believe I was some drunk asshole who took advantage of her, and that wasn’t fair either.” I force myself to relax my grip on the steering wheel. “Anyway, that’s why O’Shea can’t stand the sight of me. He thinks I played the long game with his daughter—spent a year trying to get into her pants, and then dumped her once I got what I wanted.”
“And you really have no idea how she’s doing now? You haven’t tried to contact her?”
“I sent her a Facebook friend request a while ago,” I admit. “She hasn’t accepted it. I think she’s doing well, though. Her profile said she goes to Duke.”
“I guess it makes sense that O’Shea was so overprotective of her,” Allie muses. “It must have been really hard for him, watching his daughter struggle with depression. Watching her get better, and then fall into that dark place again.”
Maybe, but I refuse to empathize with that bastard, not when he’s trying to make my last year at Briar so damn miserable.
“You make more sense to me too now,” she adds.
“How so?” I don’t like her thoughtful, probing gaze.
“This is why you’re always so upfront about sex, right? You’re making sure your hook-ups are on the same page as you?”
“I’m not misleading anyone ever again, that’s for sure. Or taking their agreement at face value. I don’t care if it makes me an ass, but I never, ever lie about my intentions. And I never date virgins,” I say as an afterthought. “Or freshmen, because they tend to be clingier.”
“The Life of Dean sure has a lot of rules.”