Free How to Heal a Broken Heart by Kels Barnholdt

I expected him to call me or anything, I don’t think he even has my number. I come to the conclusion that he must feel the same way I do about that night -- that it was a horrible mistake.

    I’m almost beginning to wonder if maybe I’d dreamed the whole entire thing when there he is. Andrew, I mean. He’s just standing down at the other end of the bowling alley with Evan, getting ready to bowl. He’s early too, because I always make sure I’m gone by the time they get here.

    Seeing him makes me realize that there’s no way I could have possibly imagined what happened between us, because a feeling of dread washes over me.

    “Have you talked to him since that night?” Chelsea asks, coming up beside me.

    I shake my head no and she sighs. “What are you going to do?”

    I look at her and then I start gathering up the plates and empty beer bottles left behind on lane twelve. “I’m going to finish clearing these tables, then I’m going to count my drawer out, and then I’m going to head home for the night.”

    Chelsea frowns. “No, I mean what are you going to do about Andrew?”

    I shrug. “Nothing.”

    “Nothing?” she asks. “You can’t just do nothing.”

    “Sure I can,” I say.

    Chelsea doesn’t say anything and for a second I think maybe she’s mad at me but when I turn around I see why she got so quiet. Andrew’s walking right toward us. I’m about to make a run for it when Chelsea swoops in grabs the plates out of my hands and announces she’s taking them to the kitchen for me. Then she runs off.

    I have no choice but to stay put -- if I move now it will be totally obvious that I’m taking off just because he’s coming over. He’s wearing a pair of khaki shorts with a dark green polo. His hair is sticking up a little in the front and I feel my stomach start to flip as he gets closer to me.

    “Hey,” he says.

    “Hi,” I say, turning around and starting to wipe off the table.

    “How have you been?”

    “Fine. I mean, good. Or great. Actually, I’ve been great.” I’m totally babbling.

    “Um, okay.” He sounds unsure. “So I was hoping you’d still be here.”

    “Why?” I ask, turning around to look at him.

    “Well,” he says looking me in the eye. “I thought you might want to talk or something.”

    He thought I might want to talk? Is he kidding? Talk about what? How I completely threw myself at him and made a fool of myself? No thanks.

    “What do we have to talk about?” I ask, shrugging.

    He looks a little taken aback. “Um, I don’t know…”

    “Well, have fun bowling,” I say and start to walk away.

    “Yeah, thanks,” he says, and for a second I think I got away with it , for a second I think I’m in the clear. But then I hear his voice. “You’re unbelievable.”

    And when I turn around the look on his face is one that’s filled with anger. Yikes.

    “How’s that?” I ask slowly.

    “Well,” he says in a snotty tone. “Who jumps on top of someone one night in a car and then wants to pretend it never happened?”

    I frown. “It’s not that I want to pretend it never happened. I just don’t think there’s any point in talking about it.”

    He shakes his head and starts to back away from me. “You know what?
    Whatever, Stephanie. If you want to continue to live in your little fantasy world go ahead, ‘cause I’m done trying to break through.”

    Wow, my little fantasy world? Is he kidding?

    “My little fantasy world? Okay, Andrew, whatever you have to tell yourself.”

    “I don’t tell myself anything,” he snaps. “You walk around choosing to shut everyone out, you act like you could care less what anyone thinks, when inside you’re screaming to talk about what you really feel. You hide out with Evan during the week making him not tell anyone, because God forbid anyone thinks you actually have a friend. So what do I think, Stephanie? I think I feel bad for you.”

    He feels bad for me? Bad for me? Is he kidding? I