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Chapter Fifty

"Hey Trevor."

"Hey Brooke."

He sounded funny; almost like he was talking underwater.

"We need to talk," he added almost as an afterthought.

I sat down on the bed. I had a bad feeling. My mom would say it was my woman's intuition working overtime.

"I was surprised you flew back," I said. I picked at a hole that I had been working on in the worn knee of my favorite pair of jeans. The fibers were so thin that I could press the tip of my nail directly into my flesh.

"Yeah, that's part of what I wanted to talk about," Trevor said. He gave a heavy sigh.

"What's the other part?" I asked. I figured it was best to lay it all out on the line first, kind of like ripping a bandaid so you got all the pain over at once.

"Your dad filed a report against my dad because of my black eye," Trevor said.

My eyes widened. "He did? When?"

"I don't know. Obviously sometime after we landed in Atlanta."

"What happened?"

"I had to come home and get questioned," Trevor said.

"What happened after you did that?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Why?"

"Because it was just a stupid accident."

I snorted in disbelief. "Trevor, you said--"

"Listen, Brooke. If my dad's not here, then there's no one to help mom with the other kids except me."

"But it doesn't sound like he's doing a good job anyhow," I pointed out. "A good dad wouldn't give his son a black eye."

"There's more to the situation than what you know."

"Then tell me. I want to know. Trevor, I think your dad's dangerous. I don't want you hurt."

"Well, your friend Kay is dangerous and look how much she's hurt you."

I frowned. "Kay's not dangerous. And she didn't hurt me. Not really. I overreacted. You don't know her. After you left--"

"I know her. She's like a million other girls at the white trash high school I went to before we moved. The only difference is she's got money. But a slut is a slut no matter how nice of clothes they wear."

A rush of anger coursed through me. "Trevor, that's a horrible thing to say."

"Brooke, I like you. A lot," he said. "But when you break it down, the only reason there's even a you and me is because I helped you when you needed help."

"Maybe that's how it began, but that's not all there is," I argued. "And my dad was only trying to help you. He likes you. I like you. We want to help you because you need help," I explained.

He laughed softly. "I don't need help."

"But--"

"I don't think I can handle being in a relationship with you right now," he said harshly. "There's too much going on. You have an amazing family and you're a really nice girl, but we're too different."

Tears sprang to my eyes.

"How are we different?"

"Brooke, we just are."

I bit down hard on my bottom lip.

"Are you breaking up with me?" I finally asked.

He took forever to answer. When he did, it was the answer I knew he was going to give.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Me too," I said quietly. My heart was threatening to break, but I wasn't ready to let it do it. I decided to let my impartial business side take over for a second.

"Do you still want to do the music video for the duet?" I asked.

"I...I don't think so," he said. His voice seemed shaky.

"Alright, well..." I trailed off. I raised my eyes heavenward.

Why me?

"I gotta go," Trevor said.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Me too," I lied.

"Okay well...I hope you have a good tour."

"You too," I whispered.

We hung up and I tossed my phone on the floor. I flopped back against my pillows and just stared up at the ceiling.

I guess I just wasn't cut out for relationships.

------------------------------------------

I was still laying on my bed two hours later when dad came in to let me know dinner was ready.

"You okay?" he asked. I turned my head.

"Trevor broke up with me," I said.

Dad walked into the room. He pulled out my desk chair and straddled it.

"Oh BooBoo, I'm sorry. Did he say why?"

"Well, he was mad that you put in a complaint about his dad."

"Are you mad about that?" dad asked.

I puckered my lips. I didn't have to think very long. I sat up.

"No, I think you did the right thing. Kids shouldn't have to live around someone like that," I said.

Dad nodded. "You're right."

"I also don't think he liked what happened with Kay," I said. "He told me we're too different and that there's too much going on."

Dad reached out and tugged at my hair.

"Maybe he's right on that point. You know, it's hard to have a long distance relationship. Especially when you're only sixteen," dad said softly.

I was mortified when I felt a tear drip down my cheek.

"But can't I have it all? Can't I have my music >and a boyfriend? You have music and mom."

Dad smiled. "It took me thirty years to find her."

I groaned. "Thirty is forever away."

Dad laughed. "It gets here sooner than you think." He stood up and held out his hand to me.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart. C'mon down to dinner."

I took his hand and hopped off my bed. Dad dropped my hand, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and squeezed me.

"It's going to take a very special guy to win you, babe," he said.

"Will he have to pass the dad test?" I teased.

Dad's eyes twinkled.

"He's going to have to pass the Brooke test first," he said.

That made me smile. So far no one had made it all the way through the Brooke test. It was tougher than the SATs.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what type of guy might make it to the end, but I wasn't going to stop looking. Even if it took me another fifteen years.

I wanted the same type of love mom and dad had.

I wouldn't settle for less.