I stare at my water bottle, fighting the thoughts that have been warring in my mind the last couple of days since catching Micah with Lana—

No, that’s not what happened. I keep thinking of it as catching them, but when I do, it makes it sound so much worse. I know he was trying to get rid of her. I know she keeps showing up, begging for him to give her another chance, and he keeps rejecting her. I know all of these things.

But when I saw him standing there with her, he wasn’t mad. They weren’t kissing, but they were close. She was close enough that she could’ve kissed him. Would he have kissed her back?

“Ugh!” I groan in disgust at myself.

“You okay?” Cindy asks, perking an eyebrow over the sunglasses she’s wearing as we stroll along the boardwalk.

She wanted to come early and check out some of the shops before the beach party. I was hoping that it would take my mind off of everything that happened, but it hasn’t. I wish I had Miguel’s car again, then I could make up some excuse and just leave. That was the only good thing about that day, having a car and not having to wait for someone to pick me up. We talked a little more—or I should say he talked—ate our lunch, and then I left with nothing being resolved.

“I don’t know,” I answer her, as we walk into a store.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t wait for me to answer, as she strides forward, rummaging through a rack of clothes.

“I can’ help it,” I admit. “It’s like … I see it. Her. She had her hands on him, and he wasn’t yelling. I mean, he seemed upset, but he was just there. It almost looked like she was going to kiss him and he was enjoying it.”

“V,” she groans out, finally looking over at me with an annoyed face. “Stop that. You know he wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course I know that, but my brain keeps coming up with all these asinine thoughts. Then it drifts back to them being together. Then of them being together together.”

“Gross!” She walks over, swatting my arm, and starts to scour another rack of clothes. “Stop thinking that, what’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t help it. I—” I stop and look around, lowering my voice. “I was a virgin, and he wasn’t. She was his first. I don’t want to think about it. God, I seriously don’t want to think about it, but my stupid brain keeps defaulting back to that, wondering if—”

I stop and stare aimlessly at a shirt I’ve picked up. I twirl the price tag in my fingers, wishing I had stopped while I was ahead, because I know she’s going to prod and get the rest of my thoughts out of me. And I hate these thoughts.

“What?” she asks. I don’t answer, continuing to stare at the shirt. She stops moving. I can feel her eyes on me. “What is it, Veronica?”

“I think about that, and then … I can’t stop myself from wondering … if he liked it better with her than with me.”

“Oh my God,” she hisses loudly, slapping my arm.

“Ow!”

“You deserve that!” She scans the area.

There are a few people in the store, a clerk behind the register, but it isn’t busy. Cindy is not one to mince words, and I’ve learned firsthand that she has no problem airing things out publicly, so I know she’s gone into total serious-mode, as she steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Veronica, you have to stop thinking that. Seriously, I can’t believe you. Why on Earth would you even compare if Micah liked having sex better with Lana then with you? It’s insane. People have pasts, V. You can’t blame him for not being a virgin.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then why in the hell would you compare that with someone else?”

“Because it’s what I do! I don’t want to think about it. As soon as it happens, I try to push it out of my head. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to her, but it’s what I’ve always done. I’m not tall enough or thin enough or whatever.”

She wraps her arm around me, giving me a hug. “Whenever you think stupid stuff like that, think about me instead, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re five-two and taller than me. You’ve got bigger boobs than me. And you’ve got a totally hot guy that loves you, while I’ve got hold and cold Jackson, who I can’t even get to return my calls sometimes.” She smiles, and I let out a small laugh. “Compare yourself to me, and you’ll be thinking you’re a ten in no time. And just so we’re clear, you’ll be right.”

“Thanks.” I hug her tightly.

“You’re welcome.” She turns around, grabbing a couple shirts off the racks. “I’m gonna try these on.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go grab a smoothie, want one?”

“Sure. Blueberry peach, please.” She grins widely then turns around and heads off to the fitting room.

Stepping outside, I take a deep breath of the ocean air, and walk next door to the smoothie shop, trying to calm myself. Why can’t I just get over this stupid insecurity? Micah’s never given me a reason to be this self-conscious. Then again, he’s not the reason I’m this timorous to begin with.

“Veronica?”

Glancing behind myself as I open the door, I find Tim standing there. “Hey.”

He scans the area before looking back at me. “Hey. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I answer, motioning toward the shop. “Just getting a couple drinks. Cindy’s next door, trying on some clothes.”

“Oh.” He looks over his shoulder. “At least she’s not out here, or else she’d bite my head off.”

“You deserve it,” I reply, bluntly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he almost seems embarrassed. Almost like he’s ashamed. “Yeah. You’re right. I totally deserve it.”

His admission catches me off-guard. When we went out, he was kind enough, but looking back at it, he had this arrogance about him. I thought it was just confidence at the time. But it was more than that. He was cocky.

He has a right to be a little cocky. He’s tall, maybe an inch shorter than Micah. His pitch black hair is a bit shaggy, causing it to hang over his forehead, but it’s short enough that it doesn’t hit his dark blue eyes. Cute dimples in both cheeks when he smiles, which always comes off as a confident smirk. He didn’t have a reputation in high school, but I wasn’t the only girl who noticed him. So when he asked me out I was over the moon, but confused. I knew what I was. I’m the big girl. And he played sports and hung out with some of the most popular guys in school. I was smitten.

“Hey, can I buy your drinks?”

“What?” I stare at him, confused. “Why?”

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to talk to you. I thought about calling or texting, but I figured you’d ignore them.”

“You’re right. I would.”

“Yeah,” he says, letting out a chuckle. “Please, V?”

“Why? What do you want? What you did was … it was …” I’m not sure what words to use. I know what he did was arrogant and humiliating, and pathetic. But none of those words seem big enough.

“It was bullshit,” he answers for me. Again, I’m taken aback by his honesty. “Seriously, Veronica. Complete and utter bullshit. Please, just give me five minutes.”

I stare at him, as he waits for my answer. Any trace of smugness or superiority is vacant. He seems … sincere. “Okay. Five minutes.”

He follows me inside, and I place my order, fully intending to pay for it. He speaks up from behind, asking the girl at the counter for a drink himself, then pays for them. I give him a courteous nod, but don’t say anything. If he wants to pay for our drinks, fine.

After we get them, he asks where I want to sit. There are a few open tables inside of the shop, but I feel weird about sitting alone with him inside. A couple tables are set up outside, near the door, so I point them out, and we take a seat.

Taking a sip of my drink, still unsure what he’s going to say, I wait for him to speak up but he stays quiet. After putting the straw through his lid, he nervously picks at the straw wrapper, biting his lip.

“Did you want to talk or …” I finally speak up.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Um … you look good.”

My eyebrows perk up, and I laugh. I actually laugh. “Are you serious?”

“What? You do. Did you lose some weight?”

“Wow, you’re a dickhead, you know that?” I slap my hands down on the table and slide out of the chair.

“Wait, no. No, I’m sorry.” He stands up, grabbing my hand. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like … whatever. This is all coming out wrong, and you have no reason to think I’m being real with you right now, but I wasn’t taking a shot at you or anything. I was sincere.” He lets go of my hand and waves at the table. “I’m sorry. Please, just give me a chance to explain some stuff.”

Taking a seat, he looks back up at me. I want to head next door and tell Cindy he’s out here. She’d probably flip out and verbally attack him. And he deserves it. But he does seem like he’s trying to be empathetic. I don’t remember him like this. Maybe if I listen to whatever he has to say, I might get some closure myself. It’s with that thought, I decide to return to my seat.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling.

“Seriously, Tim. I don’t know what this is, but if you’re just going to try and throw something in my face, namely my weight, I’m telling you right now I’ve had a pretty lousy week. I can’t guarantee I won’t dump our smoothies all over you.”

He lets out a laugh. “V, I really didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. No, I’m not trying to throw anything in your face.” I give him a quick nod. “You’ve had a bad week? Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, then let out a sigh. “Micah and I— Wait, no.” I shake my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “No, I’m not discussing my life with you. You wanted to talk, so talk.”

“Right.” He nods and starts fidgeting with the straw wrapper again. “Okay, well, remember that girl you saw me with at the mall a while back?”

“Yeah.”

“So, that was Lacey. And you have no idea how hard I had to work to explain what happened at the mall, and how Cindy tore me a new one.”

I scoff. “Seriously, Tim? I’m not apologizing for what Cindy said. You deserved that. You deserved a whole lot more than that, even though I was embarrassed she said it.”

“No, you’re right. I did. Sorry, that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Then just say it already.”

“She cheated on me.”

He stares at me, letting the words hang in the air.

People walk by, talking and laughing. A couple is walking a golden retriever. Everyone seems to be having a great time, on a beautiful day for the beach. And at first, I want to laugh. I know I shouldn’t, but what goes around comes around, you know? But the way he stares at me—the way his eyes meet mine for a moment longer, before he averts his gaze, looking back down at the table—I can tell he’s hurt.

“Sorry,” I say. I feel like I should reach out to him, but I don’t.

“Thanks. Yeah, it sucked.”

“You think?” I blurt out. He finally meets my eyes again, and now I have to look away. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m not telling you this for pity. I really liked her. Since it happened, and I know this doesn’t take away from anything that I’ve done or said in the past, but since it happened, I’ve thought about you. A lot. I was an ass in high school. An absolute piece of trash for what I did, and especially for what I said. I was so caught up with trying to act like some player, trying to hookup with girls and act like I’m better at it than some of the guys, I didn’t realize just what I was doing. And when this happened? I know it’s way late, but I’m so sorry, Veronica. I’m sorry for cheating on you and especially for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just a douchebag, trying to justify why I did what I did. But there’s no justification for it. I screwed up, and I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know how to respond. I stare at him, first trying to discern if he’s telling me the truth. Then I’m trying to come to grips with the fact that he’s apologizing for what he did and that he didn’t mean his words. A final thought enters, wondering just how many people cheat on their partners. I mean, seriously. What the hell is wrong with people?

I don’t realize that I’m just sitting there, staring at him, until he clears his throat. “Veronica, did you hear me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I heard you,” I answer. “I just … I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Right.” I sit there, staring at him still. “Thanks, I guess.”

He laughs. “You’re welcome. Thank you for not dumping smoothies on me.” A quietness settles around us, a slight uneasy silence again, so I grab the drinks and get up.

“Well, I guess I should be getting back.”

He stands up. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks again for the drinks.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

I nod, and I’m just about to turn around when he motions forward, wrapping an arm around me. “I really am sorry, Veronica.”

“Oh … okay.”

It’s a weird sensation. I remember holding hands with him and making out. Then he did what he did, and I wanted to slap him every time I saw or thought of him. I don’t feel comfortable enough with him anymore to embrace him, but he’s so apologetic right now, that I feel like I should. The weird sensation is trumped with sheer panic, as I hear Micah’s voice.

“What the hell?”

I turn around to see Micah staring daggers at him and Cindy looking at me with pure confusion.

“Micah? What are you doing here?”

His eyes finally meet mine, staring at me in puzzlement. “Here? At the beach? Where I invited my girlfriend to a beach party? I don’t know, Veronica. What am I doing here?”

Walking over to them, I give Cindy her drink as her jaw hangs open. “No, sorry. Yeah, I know that. Um, this is—”

I wave back at Tim, but Micah cuts off my words. “I know who this is. What the hell are you doing?” he asks him.

“I was just talking to her, man. Chill out.”

“Chill out?” he scoffs. “You chill the fuck out.”

“Micah!” I scold him.

I’ve never seen him like this. Not just angry, but jealous. I understand what it might have looked like, and he knows who Tim is and what he did, but he’s not even giving me the chance to explain. This isn’t like Lana, who’s been showing up left and right, giving me legitimate cause for concern.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he responds, sounding anything but apologetic. “Am I not supposed to be pissed off when I catch my girlfriend and her asshole of an ex-boyfriend, who cheated on you by the way, hugging each other?”

“We weren’t hugging each other,” Tim says.

“Tim, don’t.” I put a hand up to him, still staring at Micah. “No, you’re not supposed to be mad, Micah. You’re supposed to ask me what’s going on because I’ve never done anything to break your trust. And you sure as hell shouldn’t throw the fact that some asshole cheated on me in my face. So no, you’re not supposed to be pissed off. You’re supposed to trust me.”

I shove my drink into Cindy’s hands and storm off down the boardwalk.