Read Online Catching Tatum by Lucy H. Delaney - Free Book Online Page B

what I was thinking,” I said. I wanted him to feel bad about it. “It's not like we have much in common other than baseball.”
    “Yeah, well, you know, I'm here if you change your mind,” he said, reaching for a handful of fries. “Or ... at least ... we can still be friends, right?” He shoved the fries in his mouth, wouldn't even look at me.
    “Yeah, sure ...”
    “So you wanna do the movie or nah?” he asked.
    “I don't think so.”
    “All right, c'mere,” he said, and stood up and finally came over to me. That's when he hugged me and looked down at me. Why couldn't he have done that when they were here? For a second I thought maybe he would ask me to change my mind, but no. “It's been real,” he said. “I won't be able to drive out Canyon Road and not think about you ... 'Member that?”
    I did remember that, we were making out and a police officer knocked on the window and broke it up. The memory had always been good for a laugh, but not when I was breaking up with him and wanted him to beg me to stay.
    “Yeah, good times.”
    “The best.”
    We walked to his car and he drove me to my house in silence. He actually got out when he dropped me off, something he hardly ever did anymore, and hugged me to his chest one last time. He kissed the top of my head and his fingers found their way to tangle in my hair, I was going to miss that. Then he got in his car and took off ... no backward glance this time. There were only two weeks left of summer and both were filled with silence from Cole. No calls, no begging me to change my mind, no knocks on my window in the middle of the night. No Cole Jackson. Even though I was the one who broke up with him, it definitely hurt me worse than it hurt him.
    I saw him the first day of school and we waved like we never really knew each other, like all of the last year hadn't happened. Then at lunch I knew why, he already had a new girl on his arm—Stacy, an air-headed cheerleader, and she didn't even play ball. I was replaced. I wanted to be mad. In my head I was mad, he was a jerk! He probably went and found her the next day or even the night we broke up. Had he been flirting with her on the side the whole time we were together? Why did I ever love him? Why? But the anger didn't stick. The hurt was too big; more than yelling or slapping him, I wanted to curl up and cry. I felt so cheap and worthless. I loved him and he didn't even care.
    The next day I caught him in the hall without her. “I see you're doing OK,” I said.
    “I manage,” he said, high-fiving a kid from the team named Jimmy.
    “When did you start going out with her?”
    “Couple weeks ago.”
    A couple weeks ago we had been together. “Wow!” I crossed my arms to keep from slapping him.
    “Hey,” he said, arms out, palms up, making himself look bigger than he was. “You're the one that broke up with me, remember? Why, you miss me?” he said with a wink.
    “Um ... not hardly ... not now. You walk around the school like you're God's gift to the ladies. You've been with everyone. I'm so done with you. You're a man whore.” Curious kids stopped walking in the hall to hear what was going on. I was not one to back down. Chuckles erupted from the crowd. I got him good. I smiled in triumph.
    “Who's the whore, Tatum? … It ain't me. You were moaning in my bed begging for it before we were even going out.” I saw a girl behind him put her hand to her mouth. I felt exposed. What we did was our thing; he was crossing a line. Fire for fire, I shot back, “I wasn't moaning, I was crying cause you couldn't get it up. That's why I broke up with you. I was tired of you being my charity case.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows. Victory. “Peace,” I said and walked on. Then the terrorists attacked, and my stupid little relationship drama didn't matter anymore.
    The whole nation gathered together to watch in shock and horror. I remember being in English that day and hearing the announcement over the