The movie sucked. No surprise there. Becker didn’t come back in the theater and I found myself looking over the faces trying to figure out who he’d been here with. Other than a few couples gratuitously making out in the back, there was one rocker- looking dude by himself. Maybe a band mate.
“You okay?” Conner whispered in my ear, his hand sliding over mine.
I swallowed hard. I just wanted to go home. I was… ashamed. I was so freaking embarrassed for myself. But I waited until the end of the movie, ignoring all of Conner’s attempts to make out with me. I was done. I NEEDED to be done.
Conner drove fast. And when he slammed on the breaks in front of my house, I almost hit my head on his dashboard.
“Goodnight, Stella,” he said without looking at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “What is your problem?” I asked. He had no right to be pissy. He was the one with the girlfriend.
“Nothing,” he said and looked at me. “Absolutely nothing. And that’s the problem. If you’re going to be a freaking bitch, Stella. I’m not gonna keep taking you out.”
My face stung. “So… me being fun. You mean hooking up?” Don’t cry, Stella. Hold it together.
He scoffed. “Well, yeah. What did you think?”
I stared at him for a second, knowing what he was saying. Knowing that I knew it all along.
Slowly, I pulled the handle and pushed open the door. I got out, my hands shaking, but I turned back to him one last time.
“You know,” I shook my head. “My dad was right. You are a tool.”
I slammed the door and went inside.