"-So I said, 'Ew. Did you really mean to put those shoes with that top?' And she started crying like it was my fault."
Jackson pulled his eyes away from watching Stiles and McCall practicing for lacrosse and looked at her. Her hair looked so pretty when she had it curled and tucked behind her ears like that. Odd, though, because suddenly he realized that he didn't care at all.
He frowned, trying to think, to feel. But he didn't. Feel for her. He didn't feel for Lydia. When did that happen? When did he stop thinking she was his one and only?
She wasn't though. She was just a girl he knew. A friend he loved.
"So what do you want to do Friday night? After the game I mean?"
"Uh."
She wanted to do something. Go on a date or screw around. That's what boyfriends did with their girlfriends. "Lydia…I think I want to break up."
Her eyes went wide, big green spotlights staring at him. "Excuse me?"
"I want to break up."
She stood, throwing all her things in her purse, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. He could smell the sharp sting of salt in her eyes. "You'll regret this, Jackson. Who's going to take you shopping for the right clothes? Who will keep you on your protein diets? Who's going to be you cheer section, hm?"
But she wasn't waiting for answers. She turned on her heel and disappeared among the crowd.
Jackson stared around him in a quiet daze. Now what?