Author's Note: I've been on a crazed writing binge in the last couple weeks as I've worked on this chapter and the one that will soon follow it (soon as in a week or less, not soon as in geologic time, like my pace has been lately). Sorry to keep you waiting. If I could magically carve out hours of my day to do nothing but write, believe me, I would. Gladly. Super special thanks to my two betas – one who managed to pacify my impatience with insta-feedback and the other who managed to carve out time for me despite packing to move. And thanks again for sticking with me and providing all of the feedback and reviews. It really, truly means a lot to me.
Meredith had tried all the tricks she knew to prevent a hangover. She'd brushed her teeth before going to bed, taken a couple Excedrine, and drank more water than her bladder could ever hold until morning. So when she woke up with a headache, she had to wonder how much of it was from the alcohol and how much of it was from thinking about Derek.
She moaned loudly and buried her head back beneath her pillow, hoping to lose consciousness once again.
"Would you shut the hell up?" Cristina snapped. "I'm trying to sleep."
Meredith sprang to her side. She hadn't even realized Cristina was still there.
Cristina tugged the blanket over her shoulders and rolled to face the other direction. "Seriously."
"I think I'm entitled to moan here," Meredith said. "This is my bed. I'm the one with the boyfriend who's McMarried. I'm the one with no reasonable future in neuro." Meredith flung herself back against the sheets in a gesture even she would admit was melodramatic. Still, it was exactly how she felt at the moment, and after being decidedly even-keeled throughout her internship thus far, she had a surplus of drama ready to unleash.
"Two hours," Cristina replied. "In two hours, I will gladly listen to you whine and sob all over again. But now, now I kindly ask that you shut up and let me sleep."
Meredith pulled the pillow out from under Cristina's head and hugged it to her chest. "I don't remember even asking you to stay the night last night."
"Right." Cristina tried to tug the pillow back from Meredith's grasp, but ultimately gave up and stole a different one from Meredith. "Cause your hair was just going to hold itself back."
"I didn't get sick last night," Meredith said while shaking her head in disgust.
"Um, okay. Whatever you say." Cristina settled back into the pillows and tucked herself beneath the blankets.
Meredith folded an arm across her eyes to block out the sunshine drifting through the window shades. She had to admit that there were many parts of last night that were still hazy to her, including her memory of getting from the port to her bedroom, but she was quite certain that she hadn't missed anything she'd particularly want to remember. Why dwell on the patently unpleasant when there was the potential to have so much more hurled in her direction?
"You think after four months you know someone. But no. Why bring up something like marriage? That's not important." Meredith resumed her bear hug of the pillow and tucked it beneath her chin as she waited for Cristina to respond.
A loud, groaning sound erupted as Cristina shifted the blankets and rolled around to face Meredith.
Meredith continued, undeterred. "Not once was he like 'by the way, my wife says hi' or 'you probably shouldn't call my house in case my wife answers.'"
Cristina rolled her eyes. "Of course not. If he didn't tell you about her, he clearly doesn't want you to know about that."
"But why? Why doesn't he want me to know? He's moving to Seattle. He can't be too happy with her if he came looking for me." Meredith chewed at her lower lip as she pondered his rationale. Deep down, she knew the only way she'd ever get an answer was by talking to him directly, but for now, she was hoping to solve the mystery on her own. Talking to him was still too intimidating.
"I don't know, Mere," Cristina answered. She folded the pillow beneath her head and gazed up at her friend with big brown eyes.
"I should've known he was too perfect. I got myself so convinced that the other shoe wouldn't drop this time, and look what happened."
"Are you going to talk to him?" Cristina asked.
Meredith's eyebrows crinkled as she looked at Cristina. "I thought you didn't want me to call him."
"No, I didn't want you to drunk dial him. But at some point, you're probably going to have to talk to him."
Meredith sighed. It was one thing to have her conscience tell her to talk to him, but it was another thing entirely for Cristina to say it.
"He'll be back in two weeks."
Cristina's exasperation registered across her face. "So you're not going to call him."
"I didn't say that." Meredith rolled to face away from Cristina and stared at her cell phone on the night stand by the bed. "I just need to figure out what to say, and I'm not ready yet."
"Fine. Figure out what to say. I'm going back to sleep." Cristina turned and pulled the covers away from Meredith as she curled up beneath the large tan quilt.
"Right," Meredith said. She reached over for the cell phone and held it in her hand as she debated turning it back on. She was certain that there would be more messages from him that she didn't want to hear.
Except she really did want to hear them. She wanted to hear his voice and the way he spoke to her as if her name were a prayer on his lips. She wanted to know how much he missed her and how many times he actually bothered to call, knowing it was only a fraction of the times he was thinking of her. And knowing all of that was the part that hurt the most because she desperately missed the Derek she'd spent the weekend with, too.
And what if someone else had called? She couldn't very well leave her cell phone off forever. The nursing home could be trying to get in touch with her, and she needed to be available for those calls, she decided. She took a deep breath and turned the phone on, hoping that she could handle the consequences.
The phone slowly came to life and vibrated as it received her messages—three texts and one voicemail, all from Derek. She smiled involuntarily, unable to shake the part of her that considered conversations with him the highlight of her day, until she remembered why she wasn't answering his calls in the first place.
Her smile faded as quickly as it surfaced, and her eyes focused in deep concentration.
"Just read them," she told herself. "Read and delete, you don't have to respond yet."Her fist flexed around the cell phone as she worked up the resolve to read. She nodded to herself and held the phone back in front of her face.
Your shift must have been exhausting. Hope you're getting some sleep. My caseload tomorrow is light if you want to call.
Meredith quickly trashed the message before moving onto the next one.
I am now the proud owner of an Airstream trailer. It's being delivered to my property next week, but I'm having the keys delivered to you. Feel free to make yourself a set.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Meredith mumbled before scrolling down to the next text.
Is everything okay? I'm starting to worry.
A pang of guilt rippled through Meredith's chest.
He was worried.
Of course he was worried. She'd dropped off the face of the earth without warning or explanation while he was across the country thinking everything was still kittens and roses between them. He had no idea that she actually wanted to claw his heart out.
And if Meredith had learned one thing, it was that Derek was persistent. He'd been persistent about getting her phone number, persistent about meeting up, persistent about dating when he returned, and he'd be persistent about calling her. If she didn't explain why she was angry and give him a chance to clear things up, she'd be getting many more of these messages every day until he returned.
She needed to call him and be done with it.
Meredith carefully pulled off the covers and tip-toed into the bathroom, careful not to step on the spot in the hallway floor that would creak and wake everyone up. It may not have mattered – she thought she could smell Izzie baking downstairs anyway – but the less attention she drew to herself, the better. She locked the door and settled onto the bathmat, gathering the courage to call.
It would be a quick "Hi, how are you? Is it true that you're married? No? That's great! I miss you, too," Meredith rationalized. No need to put it off. No need to sit and speculate why Derek would keep something that monumental from her the whole time they were chatting and texting and calling and emailing. As if he hadn't had opportunities to mention it. She just hadn't asked the right questions.
Today she would.
Definitely today.
Meredith stared at the hand towel beside the sink, noticing that it was slightly askew. Using the bathtub for leverage, she stood back up and yanked it off the rack so she could unfold and refold it into Martha Stewart perfection. So what if there was a bleach stain on a corner of the towel and the edge was frayed slightly from washing too many times. This was something she could fix.
Once the towel was resting in total, symmetrical harmony with the towel rack, Meredith settled back on the bath mat with her cell phone. She nervously coiled a strand of hair around her fingertip as she entered his speed dial and waited for him to answer. For a flicker of a second, she considered hanging up, but the damage was already done. He'd see her name as a missed call and know she'd reached out to him. This would have to be it.
"Hi, you've reached Derek Shepherd. I'm not able to take your call at the—" The over-rehearsed message was met with a quick beep as Meredith ended the call. She wasn't about to leave a message. What would she even say exactly? "Sorry I haven't called, I was reeling about your wife. Maybe we should talk?" That didn't work for her.
And why wasn't he answering his phone now?
Meredith stood back up and washed her face in the sink, jerking the hand towel masterpiece from its stage to dry herself off. She then used it to clean out the sink basin and the toilet seat as she plotted her next move.
He was almost certainly at work. She could call Mt. Sinai and have someone connect her to his office line. Find out his schedule for the day or have him paged. It wasn't the most convenient plan she'd ever thought of, but it sure beat waiting for him to call her again. And it definitely beat hitting the redial over and over again.
Meredith tossed the towel in the laundry hamper and resettled on the floor, phoning directory assistance before she had a chance to reconsider. They promptly patched her through to the hospital's main non-emergency line, and after selecting a variety of options through the automated system, Meredith navigated her way to a young, over-eager receptionist.
"Good morning," Meredith said as she devised a cover story that would get her put through to wherever he was in the hospital. "I'm a doctor at Seattle Grace Hospital, and I need to get in touch with Dr. Shepherd rather urgently. Could you connect me?"
"Sure. One moment please," the receptionist answered. An elevator music version of Elton John's Candle in the Wind played for a few seconds in the background as Meredith was placed on hold, and she tapped her fingers anxiously against the side of the tub. She stiffened as the phone began ringing again, however.
"This is the Women's Health Center. How may I help you?" another woman said politely.
Meredith groaned. "I think I've been connected to the wrong line. I'm trying to reach Dr. Shepherd."
"Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd?" the woman replied.
Meredith's heart skipped a beat at the name. "No, Derek Shepherd."
"Ah, her husband," the woman said with a knowing chuckle. "The mix-up happens all the time. I've tried to tell the main desk to double check, but…" If the woman continued talking, Meredith had stopped listening. She'd heard all that she needed to hear. She caught something about connecting to neurology, but Meredith hung up before she had a chance to make it that far.
In all the time that Meredith had lived with the possibility that Derek was married, in the time since Richard had nonchalantly sprung the news, a tiny crevice of her mind said he was mistaken. Richard was thinking of someone else, or maybe even Derek used to be married but wasn't anymore. This, however, silenced that nagging doubt. One of Addison's co-workers had confirmed it. Derek was the husband to a Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd, and that meant he had a wife.
Meredith wandered like a zombie back into her bedroom, powered off her phone, and flung it into a heap of dirty clothes. She knew he'd try calling again, but she did not want to say one word to him. If he could spend months keeping a monumental secret from her and still sound all sincere and caring when they talked, then she could manage a couple weeks of keeping him in the dark about why she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It would be one small step toward revenge, and the more she thought about how much he betrayed her, the more vengeful she felt. She wanted to hurt him at least as much as he had managed to hurt her. She wanted to shut him out completely and pretend that he had never even existed.
She settled back in beside Cristina, flung her arm over her best friend, and eventually fell back to sleep.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Meredith was determined not to let the situation with Derek affect her work, particularly while he was still in New York. When each shift started, she pasted on a smile and buried her cell phone in the bottom of her locker. She didn't bother to turn it back on, and she was content living in denial of the several messages he continued to leave for her. For the next several days, the hospital was entirely hers. She didn't need to share it with Derek, and she didn't have to deal with the threat of him watching over her or picking her for cases. She could focus on her work and hope that the adrenaline rush from surgeries would distract her enough from missing and hating him. Of course, there were moments of weakness, like when she spent a break Googling Addison Montgomery-Shepherd and cringing when she read the complete list of the woman's credentials. She also regretted finding the picture of Addison with Derek in a New York Times article of up-and-coming metro area power couples. But overall, denial was an attractive friend to fill the void that Derek left.
"I need more fun," Meredith announced at lunch as she sank into her chair, jarring the table that Izzie, Cristina, and George were already sitting at.
"Don't even think of asking for one of my surgeries," Cristina answered.
Izzie's eyes darted quickly toward Cristina, but Meredith ignored the look and continued.
"I don't want your surgery," Meredith said. "I just want something fun to do. Old Meredith used to think it was fun to get drunk and sleep with boys, but New Meredith just…" Meredith shook her head. "New Meredith thinks boys are crap."
"Not all boys are crap," George said. He looked at Meredith with wide-eyed seriousness as he spoke, underscoring how unaware he was of her situation.
"When did the Old Meredith end and the New Meredith start?" Izzie asked.
Cristina jumped in before Meredith had a chance to respond. "And when did you start talking about yourself in the third person?"
"You're missing my point," Meredith replied. "My point is that I need more fun."
"Well, I'd suggest going to Joe's, but there might be boys there, and you can't have that," Cristina said with her usual tinge of sarcasm.
"It might not be the worst thing," Meredith relented, unclear if she was referring to Joe's or boys. She had to admit that a part of her wanted to believe that taking advantage of some hot guy would fill the gaping chasm her unofficial breakup with Derek created. It was comforting to think that a new boy could speed up the grieving process and force a clean break with Derek, but Meredith had enough sense to realize she'd be lying to herself and her friends to pretend to be ready for someone new. She was in denial over many things, but she wasn't completely delusional yet.
"You still haven't talked to him, have you?" Cristina said as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest.
George looked at them in confusion. "Talked to him, who?"
"There's nothing that I need to say to him. He had a chance, and he blew it, and I am ready to move on and have fun." Meredith really wanted it to sound convincing as she said it, as if she really had condensed her moping into a couple days of abject misery and was now ready to bounce back into life.
"Look, I am all for you having fun, but you have to tell him what a bastard he is first," Cristina argued.
"Word," Izzie agreed.
Meredith groaned in frustration. "You don't think the fact that I've stopped taking his calls lets him know I think he's a bastard?"
"Who's a bastard?" George interrupted again.
Cristina shook her head. "If you don't confront him before you see him again, it's going to be ten times worse. And he has obviously proven that there's no correlation between being a neurosurgeon and having a brain."
George perked up and shifted in his chair. "Oh my god, are you having an affair with Weller?" he accused a little too loudly.
"No, George!" all three shouted back in unison as the majority of surrounding tables stared in their direction.
George shifted uncomfortably in his chair and sank a little lower. "Sorry," he whispered. "Are you having an affair with Kriachek?"
Meredith shook her head. "I'm not having an affair with anyone, George." She turned her attention back to Izzie and Cristina. "And I have no intention of talking to him. So are we going to Joe's tonight or what?"
"We'll be there," Izzie sighed. She clearly didn't approve of the situation any more than Cristina did, but Meredith knew she could count on her friends to show up and watch disaster in the making no matter what.
"Good, I'm heading over around eight." Meredith resumed focus on her food and secretly felt satisfied that she was moving on with her life before Derek even had a chance to come back in the picture.If she could find a way to resurrect her life without him, maybe his eventual presence wouldn't feel quite as unbearable.
Meredith ate her lunch quickly so she could return to her patients. Even the tedious task of charting had taken on a whole new level of interest now that Meredith delved into her work. She would much rather focus on the data than catch a nap in an on-call room, regardless of how tired she felt. She was in the zone, momentarily oblivious to the world around her.
"Dr. Grey?" the station nurse interrupted as Meredith hovered over her latest pile of charts.
Meredith glanced up briefly before returning to her charts. "Hmm?"
"You have a call on line two," the nurse responded as she passed over the phone and turned the base toward Meredith.
Meredith nodded and cradled the phone against her shoulder before pressing the button for her line. "This is Dr. Grey," she answered cordially.
"So you are alive," the unmistakable voice answered back. Derek sounded equal parts angry and relieved, and she nearly dropped the receiver as she recognized the trap she'd walked into.
"What do you need?" Her voice was shaky and barely audible as she turned away from the nurse's station in an effort to secure at least a little privacy from the potentially eavesdropping nurses.
Derek huffed in disbelief. "Let's start with an explanation for why you've stopped talking to me."
Meredith cleared her throat, hoping to sound slightly more confident and professional. "Now is really not a good time for me, and I'm not in a place where I can have this conversation with you."
"Okay," he responded. "What would work for you? Because I've left you several messages and you don't seem to return my calls. Why that is, I don't know. I was kinda hoping you could tell me."
"Not now, Derek. Really."
"Meredith…"
"Goodbye." She spun around and hung up the phone quickly, fumbling a bit as she tried to reconnect it with the base. She didn't bother to turn the phone back in its proper direction, nor did she acknowledge the nurse that asked her if she was okay. She simply grabbed her pile of charts and scrambled down the hall to the first available supply closet.
She threw her charts on a shelf, locked the door behind her, and crumpled to the floor. Sobs racked her body as she buried her head in her arms and folded against her knees. The memories of the moments that caused her to fall in love with him flashed before her eyes, and she hated the fact that his voice triggered them all to resurface.
"I was just getting ready to call you," she said as she answered her phone. It was a couple weeks before their first meeting, except she didn't realize that was a possibility yet.
"I beat you to it. I couldn't wait"
Meredith smiled. "Missed me that much, huh?"
"You have no idea. My day has been fairly miserable, and you were the only thing I could think of that could cheer me up."
Meredith ducked into a stairwell and sat on the steps."I did three rectals and had a patient vomit on me."
"Okay, you win. Thanks for showing me the bright side of not being an intern anymore." Derek laughed.
"Of course I win. I always win. And anytime." She raised her arm to the stair rail and leaned against it. "What happened with you?"
"Today I learned that I'm emotionally unavailable."
"Who isn't?" she dismissed. "How did you find that out?'
"By wasting my money and time on a therapist who clearly has no idea what he's talking about."
"You're in therapy?"
" My sister's a psychologist, and she insisted I give it a try," Derek explained. "But the thing is, I don't think I'm emotionally unavailable. I'm just selective about who I open up to these days."
Meredith nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Makes sense."
"I think the real problem is that I've become emotionally attached to you."
Meredith blinked as she tried to determine what he was trying to say exactly. "So, do you think we need to scale things back some? Talk less?"
"Not at all," he quickly clarified. "That would be the worst possible outcome in all this."
"So, you're content being only emotionally available to a woman thousands of miles away?"
Derek sighed and paused a while before answering."With you, I am. For now."
"For now?"
"Maybe we won't always be so far apart. You never know."
Meredith couldn't deny that she fantasized about meeting him with increasing frequency, so the acknowledgement that he wanted that too made her heart race. "No, I guess you never know."
"Call me before you go to bed tonight?" he requested.
Meredith closed her eyes and cursed the hours of work still ahead of her. "I always do."
"Goodbye, Meredith."
"Bye."
She had taken the bait repeatedly in their relationship, believing that they had some emotional bond that transcended all of the bullshit fed to her by every guy before. Perhaps that's why she felt the most betrayed by all of this. She actually thought that she could trust him and that he would tell her anything. As their relationship progressed over the months, he'd certainly had plenty of opportunities.
As she cried until her eyes were swollen and dry, she regretted every one of them.
Meredith waited until her appearance returned to normal before giving up her secret hiding space in the supply closet. She knew that if there was one thing that would start the gossip chain, the sight of a puffy, red-eyed Dr. Grey would probably do the trick. Eventually, the dim lights of the room exacerbated her headache as she squinted back at the charts, and she had to get out. She carefully ducked her head out of the room, confirmed that no one was watching, and slithered to a nearby lounge to resume charting in solitude.
The rest of her day dragged on mercilessly. She couldn't focus knowing that he had called, and even when she sat in the gallery watching complex cardiac procedures and contemplating specialties other than neuro, her thoughts drifted to Derek. Her mind became a static-filled AM radio that looped now-painful conversations from their past. Every time she tried to change the channel, another memory would surface, and she couldn't turn it off no matter how hard she tried.
She leaned forward against the glass window and closed her eyes, no longer even making an effort to watch the surgery.
"You know, your mother spent a ton of time in here during her internship year. She thought it was the second best way to study besides being down there herself." Dr. Webber settled into the chair beside Meredith, startling her back into reality.
Meredith leaned back and crossed her legs to resist the urge of kicking her feet up onto the ledge. She simply nodded as she searched for something appropriate to say about her mother.
Richard rescued them from the silence before it became too awkward. "I learned a lot from her. Even when the OR is empty, I'd rather come in here to think than be in my office."
"Sounds like my mother. She's always telling me to spend as much time as possible in here," Meredith lied. She imagined, however, that it was something her mother would say if she was cognizant.
"How is she doing?"
Meredith looked away from Dr. Webber and focused her gaze on the surgery below. "A whirlwind as always, sir."
"Send her my best," Richard said.
Meredith nodded and silently hoped that he would leave so she could be alone again.
Richard cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I didn't actually come in here to talk about your mother," he acknowledged.
"Sir?" Meredith glanced back up at him, surprised by his conspiratorial tone.
"What's going on with you and Dr. Shepherd?"
Meredith's heart nearly leapt out of her chest. "What do you mean?"
"Last week, he was singing your praises, convinced you were an up-and-coming neurology star, and today he called to express concerns about your ability to work together. What's changed?"
Meredith's eyes grew wide and fearful. She was cornered once again, and she couldn't imagine what information Derek had relayed. "Nothing has changed, sir."
"Derek very well may be the best neurosurgeon in the world, much less the country. If an attending requests your assistance with something, I expect you to respond immediately, especially if it's Dr. Shepherd. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Meredith answered, her voice quavering with anxiety and anger. She was relieved that he clearly didn't know the extent of her relationship with Derek, but she was positively furious that Derek involved the Chief. "I'll contact him immediately."
She stormed out of the gallery and sprinted to the locker room. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears with each step as her anger toward Derek grew. She felt her body flushing with heat and glared at anyone foolish enough to cross her path along the way. The only thing able to slow her down was the crowd of interns changing shifts in the locker room, and even that was a momentary delay.
"Still on for Joe's?" Izzie asked as Meredith brushed by her to fight the padlock standing between her and her cell phone.
"Absolutely," Meredith answered through gritted teeth. She yanked the lock off once she managed to get the combination right and tossed it to the ground. The bounce of the metal on the tile floor echoed loudly, but that sound was soon drowned out by her locker door slamming against the neighboring locker. Meredith tossed aside her clothes and barely noticed the books tumbling to her feet as she dug for cell phone.
"Dude, what's with her?" Alex grumbled behind her.
"I'm fine," Meredith barked back deliriously as she located her cell phone.
"Did she talk to him?" Cristina whispered.
Meredith could feel three sets of eyes boring into her back as she turned her cell phone back on. She took a deep breath, fuming like a bull preparing to charge, and spun towards them.
"I'm fine," she insisted again. "I'll meet you at Joe's in a few minutes."
Cristina arched her eyebrows in shock, clearly deterred from asking any follow up questions. "Well, okay then. See you at Joe's." She shrugged dismissively toward Alex and Izzie and led them out of the room while Meredith stuffed the toppled contents of her locker back inside. She hurriedly slammed it back shut, not even bothering to lock it again, before hustling out the door and down to an outdoor bench near the main entrance of the hospital. It wasn't completely private, but at least she wouldn't have to worry about disturbing patients if she started yelling. And that was something she definitely planned on doing.
She entered his number from her speed dial and paced anxiously as she waited for him to pick up.
"Meredith—"
"The chief said you wanted to talk to me," Meredith hissed bitterly into her cell phone. Her entire posture went flaccid as she cowered on the bench outside of Seattle Grace Hospital.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know how else to get you to call me." The frantic concern was unmistakable in his voice. "What's going on? Why won't you talk to me all of a sudden?"
"Nothing's happening here. How's your wife?" she lobbed back as angry tears burnt her eyes.
Derek inhaled audibly, and then the line went completely silent. At one point, Meredith pulled her phone away to make sure the call hadn't been dropped, but much to her dismay, he was still on the other end.
"So, you're married?" she repeated.
His voice strained to respond, making him sound completely shattered. "I'm getting a divorce," he managed to get out.
Meredith swallowed hard, determined not to let her resolve fade even as tears stained her cheeks. "But as of today, you're still married?"
Derek sighed mournfully. "According to the State of New York, I, unfortunately, still am," he relented.
"So, what, it's like Vegas? What happens in New York stays in New York?" Meredith was incredulous. She could feel her chest tightening, as if a boa constrictor was coiling around her body, crushing her rib cage and squeezing out the air.
"This doesn't change anything between us. I've been separated for months, and I'll be divorced in a week," Derek argued back. He sounded angrier – more defensive – than Meredith expected, and something inside her snapped.
"You'll be divorced – future tense? How does that even remotely fix things? You've been married this entire time, and you didn't think that maybe, just maybe, you should fill me in on that piece of your life?" Her body trembled as she yelled, and she tried a little too late to muffle her sobs. "We had sex and planned your dream house, Derek, and you're married!"
After taking yet another excruciatingly long pause, Derek cleared his throat. But even that didn't stop his voice from quivering as he spoke. "You couldn't even begin to know what I've been through this year," he said darkly.
"My point exactly! I don't even know you!" she said as firmly as she could manage before hanging up on him. She couldn't stomach another word.
She futilely wiped her eyes, returned to collect her things from her locker, and opted for a night completely and utterly alone at home rather than meeting her friends at Joe's. She was lying to herself to think she was ready to get back out with them and have fun. After dealing with Derek, she doubted she would be for a very long time.