Shannen Camp - The Breakup Artist

“No problem. We’ll have to do it again,” he said smoothly. I swiftly put the keys in the lock and turned them, hearing the click as the deadbolt slid back. I turned back to David to give him a little wave when he suddenly slid his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. The utter shock on my face didn’t seem to deter him at all. He was set on a purpose, and nothing was going to interfere, not even my clumsy half-formed question.

“David, what-?” I began, before he pressed his lips firmly against mine. I inhaled sharply, not quite sure how to react to this. For all of the relationships I’d been involved in ending, I’d never actually been in one myself, and it struck me in this moment that this was my first kiss. I felt a little pathetic, but I let that feeling slip away quickly and simply enjoyed everything about it-his warm breath against my lips as he pulled me closer to him, the way his hand rested on the small of my back, the soft pressure of his nose nudging my cheek with each persuasive kiss.

When he finally pulled back after what had to be nearly five minutes, I realized that my arms were circled around his neck. When had that happened? Embarrassed, I pulled them away and looked at the ground. What were you supposed to say after your first kiss? Thank you? That seemed a bit lame, but I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do to break the silence. Did I just walk right into my house without a word? Maybe just a friendly reminder to call Claire? And tell her what? That he’d just kissed Amelia Bedford, the amazing breakup artist? I finally dared to look up at David and found acute confusion lining his features. Well, that couldn’t be a good sign. There really wasn’t a whole lot confusing about kissing. It was a pretty basic thing. I mean, even I had done pretty well for my first time, I’d say.

“I’m going to go now,” he said distantly, distractedly. I nodded silently, afraid that if I spoke I’d ruin the moment even more than he was ruining it, which would be quite a feat. It only took seconds for him to get into his car and drive away, and I stood on my front porch, completely shaken.

I had just had my first kiss. And it wasn’t a little peck of a first kiss. It was a major, earthshaking, intense, passionate first kiss. With a client. I turned that thought over in my head for a while, trying to decide what exactly that meant. I definitely had to give the money back, because there was no way things were going to work out now that I’d seduced the client. Or was it the other way around? I was pretty sure the client had just seduced me. I wasn’t the one who threw myself into the kiss in the first place.

I sighed deeply, not even wanting to think of the mess I’d just gotten myself into. My brow was creased with anxiety as I made my way to my bedroom. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I’d never let a client walk me to the door before, because that only led to bad things, like kissing your impossibly cute paycheck. Ugh. What was wrong with me? I’d broken up with cuter boys for people before, but as much as I wanted to think it was just his looks that interested me, I knew it wasn’t true. There were a lot of little things, even after the short amount of time I’d spent with him. It was the way he always raised his right eyebrow at me when I said weird things or the way only half of his mouth curved into a smile when he was trying not to make me feel uncomfortable.

But then again, there were a few red flags that I had been purposefully ignoring. He had asked some pointed questions that suggested he knew exactly what I was up to. Of course, that had to be crazy talk. He couldn’t possibly know what I did for a living. My clients were all sworn to secrecy, not so much out of loyalty to me, but more out of an unspoken knowledge that if they told someone about my secret they’d have to start fighting their own battles because my business would be no more. So it had to be sheer paranoia talking. He had no idea what I did. He was just another boy I’d lured in with my good looks, and this time my pre-prom loneliness had gotten the better of me. I’d just have to work on controlling my emotions better in the future. Besides, now that I’d failed one client, at least I wouldn’t have my perfect record hanging over my head. It wouldn’t be such a shock on the day I failed another client. It was like never missing a day of school and then suddenly getting the flu. It was a situation completely out of my control, so I should just try not to fret over it.

I told myself that same explanation over and over again that night, and I eventually fell asleep, filled with an acute sadness that I couldn’t quite seem to place. I ignored my thoughts of David and resolved to make it right on Monday. I’d straighten things out with Claire and give her the money back. Then I’d finish up my jock client and things could go back to normal. Perfect plan.

Sunday passed relatively uneventfully, though my mother did ask me how my date was. I quickly skirted the subject by just saying it was okay. She seemed to accept that response easily as she rushed out the door to work. She had started working Saturdays a few months ago and had recently added Sunday to her schedule. Her constant absence from the house was beginning to make me wonder if she was really going to work, or even going on dates. It seemed more likely that she had developed an entirely new family and I was the one she was sneaking away to see. She didn’t have to work on Sundays because we certainly didn’t need the money. I mean, we didn’t have tons of cash stored away, but we had enough to be comfortable.

By Monday morning I had mentally prepared myself to break the news to Claire. I figured I’d leave out the hairy details and just tell her I wasn’t able to finish the job. I had her fifty dollars stowed safely in my wallet, which rested in the white leather purse I’d tossed into the car. Driving in the hot pink high heels proved to be quite a challenge, but it was sure to be nothing compared to facing Claire. I only had to hope that Claire’s ego wasn’t hurt so badly that she would expose my line of work to the entire school. Not only would that ruin me, but she would be stupidly sabotaging her own personal protection against the awkwardness of breaking up in the future.

I stepped out of my car when I got to school and adjusted my bubblegum pink tank top so that it highlighted my assets. I counted on Blane’s disposal to be easy, but I didn’t want to take any chances with my newly shaken resolve. I turned around to grab my purse out of the car and caught my reflection in the window. My blonde hair was curly, and my makeup was expertly applied. Everything about me today said “look at me,” which was completely opposite of the car I was staring into. My silver 1999 Hyundai Accent was about as inconspicuous as they come. I’d figured that I’d need something generic when I bought it, and so far it hadn’t failed me. That and the car was reliable, so I didn’t have to worry about breaking down in it, which was probably good, because if I did break down, no one would notice my car long enough to stop and help me.

The school was teeming with pre-prom excitement today. We only had two weeks until the blessed event, and everyone was already pairing off with unusual haste. I could see the lack of interest in the eyes of the couples, but their fear of being alone for something so big kept them glued to each other as if they were a vital part of life. I kept my jaw firmly set, trying not to scowl at the people around me, especially since I was receiving so many scowls from girls as it was. It had to be the outfit, but a lot of the girls in the school knew what I did, so they couldn’t truly be mad at me for doing my job after they had all asked me to complete similar jobs many times before. I had gotten to school a little late that day, so I headed straight for psychology without looking for Claire.