Superficial.
I feel like an ass for thinking it, but I can’t deny that’s what comes to mind whenever I see Dean. Hannah told me he’s filthy rich, and it totally shows. Not in the pompous, watch-me-roll-around-in-my-money-vault sense, but in the way he struts around like the world is his oyster. I have a feeling he’s never experienced a second of hardship in his life. Looking at him, you just know this guy gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.
Huh. And apparently marijuana makes me both philosophical and judgmental.
“So you got dumped?” he finally asks, watching me take another hit.
I blow smoke right in his face. “I did not get dumped. I’m the one who ended it.”
“The same guy you’ve been with forever? The frat guy? Stan?”
“Sean. And yeah, we’ve been dating on and off since freshman year.”
“Jesus. That’s way too long to be screwing the same person. Was the sex really boring?”
“Why is everything with you always about sex?” I pass the joint back. “And FYI—the sex was fine.”
“Fine?” He snickers. “Wow, what a ringing endorsement.”
I’m already feeling the effects of the weed, my head light and my body relaxed, which is probably the only reason I keep talking. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of confiding in this guy.
“I guess it wasn’t the best by the end,” I admit. “But maybe that’s because we’ve pretty much been fighting since the summer.”
“But this isn’t the first breakup, right? Why’d you keep going back to him?”
“Because I love him.” I correct myself, “Loved him.” God, I don’t even know anymore. “The first couple times we broke up, it wasn’t because either of us did anything wrong. I thought we were getting too serious, too fast. It was freshman year, and it seemed like we should be sowing our wild oats and all that crap.”
“Sowing oats is fun,” he agrees solemnly. “One time I sowed this really hot oat who poured maple syrup all over my dick and then licked it off.”
“Ew.” I roll my eyes. “And actually, the oat sowing sucked. I went out with a few guys and they were all total sleazebags. It made me realize how good I had it with Sean.”
Dean blows another cloud of smoke. “Okay. But then you guys broke up again.”
“Yeah.” The memory evokes a rush of aggravation. “That time it was because he got insanely controlling. One of his frat brothers hit on me at a party, and Sean decided that nobody was ever allowed to look at me again. He started telling me how to dress, texting all the time asking where I was and who I was with. It was suffocating.”
It’s Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the chick who got back together with him afterward.”
“He promised it would be different. And it was. He stopped being clingy, and he was so good to me after that.”
Dean seems unconvinced, but I don’t care. I don’t regret taking Sean back. After two and a half years with the guy, I knew we had something worth fighting for.
“Which brings us to breakup number four.” Dean slants his head curiously. “What happened?”
Discomfort squeezes my chest. “I told you. We were fighting a lot.”
“About what?”
The words spill out before I can stop them. Damn it. Did he lace this weed with truth serum or something? “Mostly about graduation and what we’re going to do after college. My plan was always to move to LA and focus on my acting career.”
Or New York… But I don’t mention that to Dean. I still haven’t made any decisions, and Dean is the last person I want to discuss deep, life-changing career moves with. The guy’s about as deep as a puddle.
“Sean was okay with it when we first started dating, but this summer he suddenly decided he doesn’t want me to go into acting. Actually, he doesn’t want me to work at all.” I frown. “He got it into his head that he’s going to work at his dad’s insurance firm in Vermont and I’m going to be the happy homemaker who has dinner waiting for him when he gets home.”
Dean shrugs. “Nothing wrong with being a homemaker.”
“Of course not, but I don’t want to be a homemaker,” I say in frustration. “I’ve spent almost four years working my ass off to earn this drama degree. I want to use it. I want to be an actress, and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t support me. He—” I stop, biting my lip.
“He what?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” I snatch the joint from his hand and inhale deeply. Too deeply, because I start coughing like crazy on the exhale. My eyes water for a moment, and when my vision clears, I find serious green eyes watching me carefully.