How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days Read online

  Capri, David, and the other jerk all looked his way. Capri even laughed.

  Then Mr. I-smell-and-look-fantastic leaned in and whispered, “How’s your date going?” I don’t believe in physical violence, but I’ve never wanted to hit someone so bad in all my life. I wanted to smack that smirk right off his face.

  I couldn’t take any more. As soon as our team made a touchdown, I got up and left amid everyone around me celebrating, well everyone but Kaine. He was still blubbering on the phone. I had a feeling he and Sandra were going to work it out. I don’t even think he noticed that I left.

  Capri grabbed my hand on my way out, but I only nodded that I was okay. But Jackson couldn’t leave well enough alone. He followed me out to the parking lot, where I had no car. I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I could walk home and did. Jackson kept calling after me, offering me a ride, but I ignored him. And maybe I gave him a nice hand gesture. Not my finest moment. He still followed me home in his new truck. He acted like a creepy stalker, slowly following behind me. I paid him no attention. I hated him for caring enough to make sure I made it home safe, but not caring enough to take care of my heart.

  So it’s Saturday, and I’ve lived through yet another humiliating event, and now my heart and my feet hurt.

  Fifty more days.

  I need some serious help,

  Presley

  Day Forty-Two

  Monday, September 6

  The weekend did not go as planned. And from now on, I was sticking with the plan. No rebounds, superficial or not. I didn’t care if Chace Crawford did ask me out, the answer was going to be not only no, but heck no. Men were terrible, awful people. But the problem was, I needed one to demonstrate how to stage kiss.

  I had to use five spoons on each eye to even look halfway decent for school. It was a rough weekend. I used up all that leftover toilet paper from rolling Jackson’s townhouse blowing my nose and wiping away tears. I didn’t even know I could cry so much. We should have had today off since it was Labor Day, but the powers that be had decided it was better to have a longer Christmas break, so they got rid of some smaller holidays. I knew then that I would regret that decision. I could have really used a day off.

  I had lain in Capri’s lap most of yesterday while she stroked my hair and we watched what felt like fifty episodes of Gilmore Girls. She informed me that when Jackson returned to the game on Friday night, she had slugged him in the arm. Also, Brad and Mindy broke up. Or more like, it came out that Mindy had made up their exclusive relationship. I guess this all played out on Facebook. I was thinking maybe Mr. Crandall was right. Maybe I’d stick to my social media hiatus. Except I was still waiting to see if Connie was going to ever message me back, though I was beginning to think love wasn’t a worthy pursuit.

  Riverton High School was becoming more and more like an episode of General Hospital or Pretty Little Liars. I figured, why not add to the drama of it all? I decided to ask Brad to be my willing victim.

  Before I could get to the car line, Mr. Crandall met me in my room. “My dear, I’m so sorry about my nephew. I fear not only was he a charlatan to you, we have now lost our carpenter.”

  I set down my satchel and smiled. “I love that you still use words like charlatan.”

  He gave me a quick squeeze. “You are a remarkable young woman. I’m sorry I tried to intervene in your and Jackson’s relationship.”

  I stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  He grimaced. “I knew my nephew was considered what you young ladies call hot and I knew if I brought him around, he would be attracted to you. I had no idea, though, what a pansy he was.”

  I laughed. “I haven’t heard the word pansy in forever.”

  He rested his hand on my cheek. “Regardless dear, I’m sorry I tried to make Jackson jealous. Though I’m sure that part of the plan worked.”

  “And what was your full plan?”

  “To see you happy again.”

  I plastered on a big fake smile and pointed to my pearly whites. “See? Happy.”

  He patted my cheek. “Not quite, but I admire your tenacity.”

  I sighed. “I better attend to my duties. I’ll see you fourth block.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” He dawdled off. If only he were thirty years younger.

  I walked at a snail’s pace to the car line. At least the mornings were cooler. I loved this time of year here. The humidity was down, but it was still warm. That’s my kind of weather.

  The men had beaten me to the line this morning. It didn’t bother me. It was easier, this way, to slight Mr. Montgomery as I walked past him to my self-appointed spot in the middle.

  “Good morning, Ms. Benson.” Mr. Montgomery grinned at me.

  I didn’t even bother scowling or returning his greeting. So what if he was my boss?

  I turned my attention toward the hard body at the end. “I heard it was a nail-biter, Friday.”

  Brad walked closer and opened a car door. “It was a close one.” He sounded terrible.

  “Are you sick?”

  He rubbed his throat. “Too much yelling.”

  That made sense. “I have a proposal for you.”

  He was intrigued. He walked closer, with a baby-I’m-all-yours look. It did nothing for me. “Name it.”

  “I’m teaching our advanced drama students how to kiss on stage during fourth block and I need some willing lips to help me demonstrate.”

  Brad didn’t meet my eyes. He looked above me first and smirked at Mr. Montgomery. Normally, that would have irked me, but after the weekend I spent bawling in my apartment, I applauded it.

  “So what do you say?”

  Brad moved in and leaned toward me. “My lips will be primed and ready for you.”

  I pushed him away. “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Just wait, darlin’, you’ll be wanting more.”

  I was going to gag, but he was willing, able, and he had good breath. And . . . I turned to see Mr. Montgomery seething. His ears were bright red. I gave him my own smirk before opening a car door.

  On my way, back into the school, Mr. Montgomery took the liberty of gently grabbing my arm. “Hey.”

  His touch made my body sing and then cry. I froze in place. “I need to get to class.”

  “Don’t kiss Brad.”

  I whipped my head up and glared at him something fierce. He should have withered under my gaze. “Is that a directive, Mr. Montgomery, because I don’t remember you having a problem with me kissing a fellow teacher last year?”

  “I wish you would quit calling me that.”

  “I wish for a lot of things, too.”

  “So do I.” He pulled me closer. His brown eyes penetrated mine.

  “Isn’t there an unspoken rule about you fraternizing with me?”

  He dropped his hand and stepped back. He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a large amount of air.

  My body cried.

  “I’m not telling you that you can’t kiss him, but he doesn’t deserve the honor.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “And you do?”

  “Maybe not, but at least I would never disrespect you by talking about it. He’s the kind of guy that kisses and tells.”

  “It’s a simple kiss, nothing more. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m done dating coworkers.” I hustled away before my body acted of its own accord. Forty-eight more days.

  Capri and I kept our heads together during lunch, deep in private conversation.

  “By the way, Mindy hates you.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not too upset by that.”

  Capri laughed.

  “Do you think this is a bad idea?”

  “Heck no. I think it’s brilliant. You get to kill two birds with one stone. Upset Jackson and live out every woman’s fantasy in this building.”

  “Even yours?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not convincing me.”

  “I love David, even if he was seeing Jackson behind my back. Who
knew he was a closet gamer, too?”

  “I guess there were a lot of things I didn’t know about him.” I popped a grape into my mouth.

  “Ah, honey. It’s his loss. And you get to kiss Brad.”

  “Sadly, I don’t even care.”

  She sat back and narrowed her eyes. “Then kiss Jackson. Show him what he’s missing.”

  I shook my head. “No way. I’ll have to start my ninety days over if I do that. Besides, I hate him.”

  She reached out and touched my arm. “And you still love him.”

  “Yeah.” I rested my head on the table and held back the tears I had been wanting to cry since Mr. Montgomery touched me earlier.

  “You’re almost halfway there.” Capri tried to be encouraging.

  “I don’t know if I’ll make it. Are we sure that website was legit?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She was affronted at my insinuation. “The toughest part is almost over, I promise.”

  I lifted up my head and blew some hair off my face. “Really?”

  She patted my head and grinned. “I swear.”

  I sat up and sighed. “I guess I should go brush my teeth or something.”

  Her wicked smile erupted. “Make it count.”

  I walked out of the teacher’s lounge to the stares of my fellow teachers. Some of the looks were dirty, like from Mindy. I gave her a fake smile, she turned and pouted. Coach gave me a thumbs up and made me smile. He was hoping this would fix Mr. Montgomery. I knew it wouldn’t. Not only were we over and never getting back together, he was trying to be someone he wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, he made an excellent vice principal—even though I would never admit that out loud—but the suit and tie wasn’t him. He wasn’t meant to be his father’s protégé. And until he came to realize that, he would be lost to everyone, including himself. But what did I know?

  Third block went way too fast. I almost backed out. I think the only reason I didn’t was because Mr. Montgomery asked me not to kiss Brad. I know how childish that sounds. I had lost all dignity. I felt like something in me had snapped. I felt out of control. I could see why the plan cautioned against alcohol and rebounds. That really would be a holy mess. And now here I was off to kiss a coworker. So my life had become a B rated movie.

  I popped a mint in my mouth and weaved in and out of students on my way to the auditorium. After this little episode, I was going to lay low. Capri was right, I had to stay on track and that meant getting my life under control again. I had been blindsided, but at the end of the day I was still me. And me didn’t go out with men like Kaine or Brad. I didn’t toilet paper my boss’ house, eat bags of chocolate in one night, or spend money on clothes like it was going out of style. That was hurt Presley coming out. I had to find my equilibrium again. Right after I kissed Brad, of course.

  Mr. Crandall started class by handing out field trip slips. The theater in downtown Huntsville was putting on Fiddler on the Roof and we had been invited to a special daytime performance. I was excited about it. The cast was also making themselves available for a Q&A session afterward. The best part was that when it happened I would be cured of my ex. That was the plan anyway. It was a good thing, too, because I had always envisioned myself walking down the aisle to “Sunrise Sunset.” And we all know who I pictured myself walking toward, in white.

  I shook my head. Forget about it, Presley. I was trying. I really was.

  Mr. Crandall started spouting off the rules of theater etiquette, right down to dressing up. “There is nothing I hate more than to see sloppy manners and dress at the theater.” He stood tall. “Don’t disappoint Ms. Benson or myself. We reserve the right to exclude you.”

  He was a softy and I wasn’t buying it, but the kids did, and that was the most important thing.

  Mr. Crandall clapped his hands to conclude his speech and it was like that act magically made two men appear at the side auditorium doors. If I didn’t know better, I would say they had raced each other to see who could get there first. And if I wasn’t mistaken, they scowled at each other and maybe even gave each other a little shove as they walked in.

  Surprised, I looked at Mr. Crandall for his take. His eyes twinkled and he gave me a mischievous sort of grin.

  I bit my lip, not sure what I should do. It was one thing to kiss Brad; it was another to kiss him in front of the man I was still in love with. It was against my will to still love him, but nonetheless, I did. I stood taller and reminded myself I was an actress, and I could rise to this awkward occasion. What could be more awkward than my date with Kaine? Please tell me nothing.

  “Looks like some guests have arrived.” Mr. Crandall chuckled and displayed a wide grin. He was trouble and he knew I was in for some.

  “Is she going to kiss both of them?” Some girls giggled.

  “I’ll kiss her,” some hormone crazed teen boy offered. Looked like I may need to use my role-playing skills and let him down gently—and inform him I would never do jail time for him. And that the thought of kissing a teenage boy made me want to vomit, as it should.

  I kind of felt like throwing up now as Brad and Mr. Montgomery made their way up to the stage. Mr. Montgomery looked like he wanted to push Brad off into the orchestra pit.

  Then to add more to the fun, Capri came running in. “Presley—” She stopped when we all stared at her. Her eyes drifted toward the men who were now standing close to me. “Looks like you already know.”

  Oh, my gosh. Could this get any worse?

  Capri grinned in her evil way. “I think I’ll stay and watch the show.”

  So the answer was, yes, it could get worse.

  I closed my eyes for a brief second and breathed deeply all while trying not to look like I was. I could do this. It was nothing. I was teaching a technique, nothing more, nothing less. I opened my eyes and focused on my students, who were being the most attentive students in the history of school. Oh geez.

  “Last week we talked about the rules of stage kissing. What were they?”

  “No tongue,” Leland shouted out. I knew that would be the one they remembered first. Laughter rang through the auditorium.

  “Very good. What else?”

  “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  “Good breath.”

  “No kissing while you’re sick.”

  Mr. Montgomery cleared his throat and interrupted my students. “Well, I guess Mr. Sutton is out then.” He patted Brad on the back.

  Brad stepped away from him. “I’m not sick. This is a side effect from coaching.” His voice sounded worse than this morning, giving me some pause.

  “You don’t want to get Ms. Benson sick now, do you?”

  Brad’s lips curled up into a smart aleck grin. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  Mr. Montgomery’s jaw clenched at the slight and maybe he turned a tad red out of guilt. He hung his head in defeat and stepped out of the way for Brad.

  Why did part of me want him to fight for me, not physically, but in that I-would-move-heaven-and-earth-so-we-could-be-together way.

  As Brad neared, I felt ill. My lips weren’t ready to be touched by anyone else’s but the man who was staring at me and begging me with his eyes not to go through with it. He didn’t deserve to ask. I wasn’t even sure why he cared. Didn’t he tell me six weeks ago that he was done with me? That I was in his way? He hadn’t meant to, but that cemented my resolve to go through with my lesson.

  I turned my attention back toward my eager students. “I’m happy to know you listen to me sometimes.” I smiled at them. “I’ve asked Mr. Sutton here to help me demonstrate the how-to’s of stage kissing.”

  There were smatterings of oohs, ahhs, and whistles.

  “Settle down. This is a demonstration. Mr. Sutton and I are only friends.” We weren’t even that, but I was kissing him momentarily, so friend sounded better than warm-bodied willing victim. “The purpose of a stage kiss, or any kiss for that matter, is to show or evoke emotion. A kiss can convey love, lust, regret, ev
en friendship. But you don’t just kiss someone. The story starts before lips ever come into play. Mr. Sutton, if you would please stand next to me.”

  Both Brad and Mr. Montgomery moved closer. I caught Capri enjoying the show from the front row. Mr. Crandall also seemed enthralled. I couldn’t look into my ex’s eyes. I didn’t want to, but I had to look into Brad’s eyes. They gleamed with macho pride. It was getting him nowhere, I assure you.

  I hated to, but I pulled Brad closer to me. I felt like my whole class leaned forward to catch the action. “Now see, when I place my hands on his chest and look up at him and smile, I’m saying I adore him.”

  Brad smirked.

  I’ll give him that his chest felt nice. “Now, if he brings his hand and up and rests it on my cheek and gazes into my eyes, he reciprocates the emotion.”

  Brad wasn’t a quick study like last year’s willing victim.

  “That’s your cue,” I whispered to a dense Brad.

  “Oh yeah.” He clumsily rested his large hand on my face. It was rough and felt all wrong. He smelled wrong, too. He smelled woodsy like pine. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t delicious like someone else I knew.

  I trudged on in the uncomfortableness of it all. “Now, he could do a couple of different things with his other hand. He could stroke my hair or maybe rest it on my other cheek so he’s cupping my face.” I met Brad’s unusual green eyes. They were beautiful, but they did nothing for me. “That’s your cue again.”

  He grinned before he stroked my hair, but it was more like petting and he pulled on it. I tried not to wince.

  We were just getting this over with. “Now, you just don’t go in for the kill.” I felt I had to say that because I could see in Brad’s eyes that’s all he wanted to do. He had no finesse. He was no Mr. Montgomery. Last year, I hadn’t even needed to explain. He knew how to romance a woman with his eyes and touch. Shake it off, Presley. I let out a breath. “Mr. Sutton is going to lean in, but not kiss me.” Like ever, please.

  He leaned in and hovered an inch above my lips. He licked his lips. Then coughed. “Sorry.”