I don’t think I can stare at Kevin’s smug face any longer without punching him again, and I still have to live with the guy.

Hopping into my beaten old Ford pickup, I slam the door. I half expect Kevin to continue our argument despite the door between us. He loves a good row, but instead, he smirks at me through the window before jogging back into the building.

Great. He can be her knight in shining armor.

That’s not me. Not anymore. This is exactly why I broke it off with Abby in the first place. We are too different.

Besides the gulf that’s slowly grown over the last year, I’m almost eighty percent certain she started cheating on me right after we started college. She’s changed too much and I can’t handle the drama.

When I finally broke it off, she was surprisingly calm and understanding. But then the random texts and phone calls started, and I kept responding to them like a fool, and now it’s all culminated in this.

I take stock of my sore knuckles and swollen lip. I guess it could be worse.

Earlier, in the middle of the night, Abby woke me with a text.

I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up.

Immediately I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. I tried a few times more, then tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t.

I was worried. Now . . . I don’t know what to think.

The drive home is quick. Scott’s parents have a rental property right off campus so I’m walking in the door within minutes.

I grab a bag of frozen green beans and head to my room, right down the hall from Kevin’s. I grimace at his shut door. It’s going to be even more hellish to live with him now.

It’s not that I’m jealous. I’m not. I don’t want to be with Abby anymore, but it still hurts. We were a couple for so long and friends for even longer. It’s like she wanted me to see her with Kevin. She wanted to try and make me angry or jealous, or who knows. I still hear the sound when I close my eyes.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My stomach rolls, remembering what Kevin said. You think I’m the first one here? You think you were?

I doze in and out, never quite reaching dreamland since my hand throbs from where I punched Kevin in his stupid face.

The sound of someone talking pulls me from my half sleep. I’m still fully dressed, eyes gritty. I look over at my alarm. It’s one o’clock.

I’ve missed all my classes today.

I need coffee. I head to the kitchen and start the pot, grabbing a cup from the worn-out cupboard and straining to hear Scott talking.

He’s on the phone, his voice low. I can’t make out much, but Kevin’s name comes up. And mine.

Once the coffee is done brewing, Scott’s voice has gone silent. I head out to the porch and sit on the rickety old folding chair.