“What’s really going on here?” I asked.
He paused for a brief second before answering.
“I can’t do this,” he said, not looking at me. It was cowardly, and he knew it immediately because he looked me directly in the face and repeated the words. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” My heart fluttered, bouncing about my chest without any rhythm.
“Cadence, we can’t do this anymore,” Mark said.
“What do you mean?”
“This,” he said, pointing back and forth between the two of us. “This thing we’re doing. It’s got to stop. I could lose my job. You’re my student. It has to stop.”
“I don’t understand. I thought everything was okay. I’m not pregnant. It’s okay.” My heart pounded.
“It doesn’t really have to do with the pregnancy scare,” Mark said. “Though that’s a part of it.”
“But you said it was fine—”
“It’s not fine, Cadence! You’re eighteen! You’re too young for me, and we’re in different places in our lives. Do you understand that?”
I flinched.
“Now, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I don’t want children. Ever. You probably do at some point. We have different goals and dreams. We have different values. You said that. Remember?”
I did? When?
“I’m sorry, but we just can’t make it work.”
“What do you mean? We’ve been making it work.”
“Cadence, this is too dangerous, what we’re doing. It’s unhealthy.”
“How is love unhealthy?” I asked.
“I . . . I don’t like losing control,” Mark said. “I feel like I’m always out of control with you. That’s unhealthy. And that pregnancy scare was what finally made me see it. I don’t like this person I’ve become. Impulsive. Emotional.”
“You mean human?” I snapped.
“No, Cadence. I don’t mean human,” Mark replied. “I don’t act this way. It’s not me. And it’s taking a toll. We’ve got to stop.”
“I want to be with you,” I whispered. The first tear fell.
“It’s impossible, Cadence. You’re eighteen. I’m twenty-eight.”
“I don’t care!”
“I care! It’s wrong. It’s wrong on so many levels.”
“You said you loved me,” I cried, sniffing and wiping my nose.
Mark sighed. “Cadence, please don’t make this harder.”
“You pursued me!” I screamed.
“I know.”
“You made me believe you loved me!”
“I do love you.”
“Then why are you doing this?” I sobbed. “Why are you breaking up with me?”
“Because it’s too hard, Cadence. It’s just too hard. And I think we’re hurting each other.”
“No we aren’t,” I argued.
“The fighting. The difficulties we face all the time just trying to see each other. The sneaking around. It’s too hard. I want a normal relationship. This isn’t it. It’s not the type of relationship I want.”
“Have the guts to say it!” I screamed. “You don’t want me! That’s what this is all about!”
“Stop it!” Mark shouted. “I’m not arguing with you! I’m tired of doing that! I love you very much, and I want you very much. And that’s why I’m ending this before something disastrous happens.”
What was he talking about “disastrous”? It was happening right now.
The throbbing in my chest moved to my hands. I reached out for him.
“Please don’t do this!” I cried.
“Cadence, don’t.”
I ran to him and flung my arms around his neck. “You love me! I know you love me!”
Mark hesitated before wrapping me in his arms. He squeezed me hard, knocking the wind out of me.
“I love you,” he whispered. “So much. It hurts, Cadence. It hurts me.”
I gripped him harder. I thought if I showed him how desperate I was, he’d change his mind. It would seep from my limbs to his, and then he couldn’t break up with me because he’d be just as desperate for me.
Mark pulled back. I clung to him.
“Cadence, please let go.”
“I won’t!”
“Cadence . . .” Mark peeled my arms from his neck.
“Don’t leave me alone,” I choked.
“I’m sorry. But I can’t do this.”
I couldn’t hear any more. It was too painful. But I couldn’t leave either. I knew I wouldn’t be able to drive. I was crying uncontrollably, and my only thought was to hide myself away from him, so I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.
I sat on the floor and cried away my pain and fear. I was afraid. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of seeing him the following day. Afraid because I had lost my only real friend. It was August all over again, and I was starting school with no one in sight. No one to share anything with. No one who cared to listen to me. No one to spend time with. Just alone and frightened.
I focused on Avery. Maybe she was a friend. Maybe I wasn’t completely alone. Maybe all the time we spent together had actually grown a real friendship—not the fake one we played at earlier in the year. Maybe I could call her.
Maybe.
I looked at the time. I’d been in the bathroom for a half hour. I was tired and wanted to go home.
Mark was sitting on the bed when I opened the bathroom door. “Are you okay to drive home?”
I nodded.
“I . . . I realize you could ruin me,” Mark said.
I was shocked. “What?”
He averted his eyes. “I’m not asking you to keep quiet about this. You have to do what you feel is right.”
“You think I’d tell people about us as revenge? You think I’m that immature and spiteful?”
“No. I don’t.”
We stared at each other.
“Do you understand that I’m doing what I think is best?”
I nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Cadence,” Mark said softly.
I nodded. And then I turned to leave. It was automatic, my limbs moving, urging me towards the door, opening it, closing it, heading for my car. Turning the ignition. Putting the car in reverse. Backing out. Backing away. It was all automatic because the feelings were gone. I left them on the bathroom floor.
***
“Cadence?” Mom asked during dinner.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She glanced at Dad and passed the unspoken message. She was worried, but I didn’t know what to say.
“Cadence?” Dad asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you spending the night with Avery this Friday?”