Shannen Camp - The Breakup Artist

“What is wrong with you?” I whispered angrily. “I was…” I let my words trail off. I couldn’t very well say I was working. That would give away my entire big secret.

“Yes?” he prompted a smug smile on his face.

“I was busy,” I finished, keeping the anger hot in my voice. “Besides, Claire told me you two were back together,” I spat, not needing to fake rage this time.

“Only until she breaks up with me at lunch,” he said casually, as if this were the norm for a relationship, which, let’s face it, in high school, it sort of is. I gaped at him, wondering how he knew this was what was going to happen. “Come on, Amelia, you didn’t think I’d give up on you that easily, did you?” His words sent a slight panic through my whole body. He had figured it out.

“When did you find out?” I asked shakily. “Was it when I dyed my hair for no reason or when you saw me with Blane?” I was doing it again-the too-much-information thing. What if he didn’t actually know anything and I was the one who’d just turned myself in?

“Give me some credit. Just because I’m dressed like a jock doesn’t mean I think like one. I’ve known for well over a year, even with you changing schools all the time.”

A year? How could he have possibly known for a year? As was often the case with David, nothing seemed to be making sense, but everything seemed to be falling apart. I took in a deep breath, aware of the quickly emptying hallway around us.

“So what do you want?” I asked finally.

“I want you to stop,” he said simply. “It’s not right. People need to fight their own battles. Besides, do you really think it’s okay to break these boy’s hearts and then make it seem okay with false promises?”

I made an indignant sound at him. He was being far too harsh. “All right, David, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most of the relationships in high school aren’t really true love, soul mate, eat your horrible cooking just because I love you type of things. They’re ‘I’ll date you because it makes me look good and I’ll dump you for the same reason.’ That’s what high school dating is all about, so I’m pretty sure I haven’t ruined anyone’s life.” His assumptions were making me angry and the nonchalant way in which he judged me made me furious. Who was he to judge what I do?

“It doesn’t matter if you’re destroying people or not, Amelia. Don’t you think you’re hurting the people who hire you? If they never have to fight their own battles, isn’t that a problem?” His voice held an angry edge that worried me, and I tried to grasp onto anything to defend my character with.

“You didn’t even like Claire, did you?” I asked finally. He laughed a short, humorless laugh.

“She’s one of your regular clients I’ve noticed, so I figured I’d only have to date her for a week at the most in order to obtain the honor of meeting you.” He said all of this with a wry smile on his face, and the expression made me want to slap him. Hard.

“So you used her to get to me. How is that any different than what you’re preaching against? Apparently you’re no angel, either.”

“Do you really think I could hurt Claire by letting her date me for a week and then letting her break up with me? I doubt she even remembers the names of half of her boyfriends.” I knew that what he said was true but it definitely wasn’t helping my case any. Why did I have to have such sleazy clients? It would be so much easier to defend my character if I actually had a weapon to defend it with.

“Why is it that you think the girls in this situation are horrible monsters and the boys are innocent angels being hurt by my acts?” So this was a slight exaggeration compared to what he had actually said, but he got my point.

“I’m not saying that, Amelia.” Again with the chronic name usage. “I’m saying that both parties are victims of what you do. You’re making it so that these girls don’t learn how to do things for themselves, and you’re obviously hurting the boys by denying them an actual explanation for their girlfriend’s sudden cold feelings. Besides, how do you know that your actions don’t have more serious repercussions than what you actually see? Just because these boys don’t break down in a fit of tears right in front of you doesn’t mean that they aren’t seriously hurting.”

Being a person with no personality and no friends meant that no one questioned my judgment very often, which was exactly the way I liked things. It was difficult for me to stand by and listen to this boy make judgment calls about my character, when I might not even possess character. I glared at David for a moment before shaking my head.

“I’m going to be late for English,” I said simply, storming off down the hallway.

“I’m really sorry, Amelia, but I’m going to have to end your business. But no hard feelings, okay?” I heard him call after me, answering the unspoken question I’d been too afraid to ask.

I spent all of English wondering if, despite David’s interference, I’d been able to complete Lexi’s assignment. Blane seemed to understand that they were officially broken up, but I didn’t feel like I could be sure of anything anymore. When the bell finally rang for lunch, I stayed in my seat, unsure of what I should do. I knew what I definitely shouldn’t do-I shouldn’t go talk to Blane or David.

My only hope for any sanity this week was resting on Claire. If she really did break up with David during lunch, at least I’d be off the hook there. But what about David’s threat to destroy my business? Could one boy really single-handedly tear down what I’d spent years building up? It didn’t seem likely, but I couldn’t keep a small, nagging feeling from penetrating my thoughts. David had, after all, been at this plan for at least a year. That small detail did rev up the paranoia quite a bit. That someone could actually be watching me for a year without my knowledge was extremely unsettling. I made it a point to blend in with the crowd and fade away at the right moment. I even went as far as to change schools often and convince my mom we should move around the valley to help her real estate business.

I shook these thoughts from my head long enough to realize that the classroom was empty and Mrs. Sanders was standing at the door, staring at me expectantly.

“Sorry,” I mumbled to her as I slid through the door. She gave me the same worried look she always wore when I dyed my hair a different color or showed up to her class dressed in a completely different style. I ignored the look for now and slunk away from her class to go eat lunch by the library. I wasn’t hungry, but I knew I had to eat something, so I took a bottle of water and a granola bar to my quiet little spot, away from everyone else. I passed all of the usual recluses on my way. Even though I’m sure they had begun to recognize me by now, they never said a word about my constantly shifting image. I smiled as I passed a small mousy girl with light brown hair. She always had her nose stuck in a book, but today I saw the corners of her eyes crinkle up into a smile as I passed.

I took my usual spot by myself and ripped open the shiny granola bar wrapper. Just looking at the thing made me feel sick to my stomach and so I just held onto it while I thought, letting my hands get sticky as my body temperature melted the sugary syrup. How had everything gotten so far off track so quickly? If it weren’t for David and his little surprise attack, everything would be just fine.

“You’re safe on both clients but this is the last time I can promise not to completely ruin everything,” said an all-too- familiar voice. I looked up to see David staring down at me.