Mistaking Him for the Moon Above

"If she wasn't somewhat good-looking, I wouldn't even bother to look at her, let alone date her."

"Exactly, girls like that are just for fun. Don't tell me you're actually starting to like her. That'd be embarrassing."

Evan Dixon was holding court in the private room, speaking loudly and with contempt, and his words tore me down without a second thought.

I stood frozen in the doorway with a tray of drinks in hand, feeling like I'd fallen into an ice-cold pit.

So, this is what he really thinks of me.

He had always looked down on me because of where I came from.

Then what was yesterday's "I have feelings for you" supposed to mean?

My heart clenched as I staggered back a step, barely keeping my balance.

"Tia! Why are you standing there like a statue? Get the drinks over to room 305!"

The manager's loud voice echoed from down the hall, snapping me out of my thoughts. My eyes instinctively darted toward the private room.

Evan seemed to hear the manager, too. He jumped up and quickly made his way to the door.

My heart leaped into my throat.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, I panicked and ducked into the nearby hallway.

My thoughts were spinning.

How am I supposed to face him?

Should I scream and have it out with him?

Or should I just ask what these past few years meant to him?

Evan stepped out into the hall, but it was empty. He frowned and pulled out his phone.

At that moment, my own phone vibrated.

I glanced at the screen with trembling hands.

Our last conversation was from yesterday afternoon, when I'd told him I had a bit of a cold.

Now, he'd texted: [Sorry, babe. I was focused on schoolwork and didn't see your message. Are you feeling any better?]

Reading his message, bitterness welled up inside me.

How had I not noticed before how good he was at lying?

The air felt thick with resentment as I struggled to breathe. Before I could think of how to reply, I heard his voice again, further down the hall.

"Evan, what are you doing standing there?"

Evan slipped his phone back into his pocket with a carefree grin.

"I forgot to text her back yesterday, so I figured I'd send her a quick one now. Women, man—they might be dumb, but you still have to sweet-talk them."

Tears started falling uncontrollably after I heard his words and looked at his earlier message.

All those sweet nothings now seemed like a cruel joke.

I clenched the tray in my hand and retreated to the employee break room.

I'd been picking up shifts between classes just so I could afford a decent birthday present for him.

But now? It didn't seem worth it anymore.

When I didn't respond, Evan sent another message:

[Babe, I'm busy working on my final project. I'll come see you after I'm done. What do you feel like eating?]

Staring at his message, the emotions I'd tried to suppress came rushing back.

He was just in that room, talking trash about me like it was nothing, like it was fun for him.

And now he was pretending to care?

The frustration and hurt turned into a wave of disgust.

I started to type, ready to end things with him.

But then I realized—

We hadn't even reached that point.

Evan had never actually said I was his girlfriend...

How pathetic.

I was the one fooling myself all along.