Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Mary blinked at me, anger simmering in her green eyes. “Are you playing some sort of fucking game right now?”
The way she looked at me, like I was some sort of villain…
It killed me and confused the ever-living hell out of me, too.
“What? No,” I started, but she cut me off.
“You rejected me,” she spat, and I didn’t miss how tears welled in her eyes again, but she didn’t let them fall. “I told you who I was. I gave you the drawings you asked me to make for you. I… I put everything on the line, and you took one look at me and decided I wasn’t enough.”
I was so desperate to hold her I couldn’t fight it anymore.
“Mary, I would never—”
But she yanked away from me before I could touch her.
“You did,” she seethed, but her anger was snuffed out by pain. “You did, Leo. Do you seriously not remember?”
I shook my head, so confused I couldn’t do anything but blink at her.
“Pimple-faced porn freak?” She lifted her brows, waiting.
I frowned, tracking through my memories, because something she said did trigger a distant something. I closed my eyes, reaching for it. Whatever it was was so foggy, so minuscule in my filing cabinet of memories that it was like searching for a crumpled-up receipt lodged somewhere between thousands of pieces of paper.
My head ached from how hard I tried to reach for it.
And then, I remembered.
It was hazy, a day I hadn’t thought twice about even when I was younger. But I vaguely remembered a girl giving me a notebook at school after practice. I had no idea who she was. I couldn’t recall a thing about what she looked like — the color of her hair, what she was wearing — nothing. And I definitely didn’t know her name — not even then.
All I remembered was feeling uncomfortable, just wanting to walk away before any of the douchebag guys on my team could make it any worse for either of us.
The reality of what it really was hit me so hard I stumbled backward.
“Oh, God,” I managed, shaking my head. I lifted my gaze to Mary’s. “That was… you?”
“Fuck you, Leo,” she said, spinning on her heel. She stormed away from me, but I chased after her, rounding her and blocking her from going anywhere else.
“Mary, I swear on my mother’s life, I didn’t know.”
“You’re telling me you saw what I drew you and it didn’t click? Me and you, an Xbox controller, the stars?”
I didn’t. I didn’t remember a single thing about what was in that notebook.
“I… I don’t know what to say. I was an idiot, a fucking kid, okay? I thought you were some random girl with a crush on me and I was afraid my friends would make your life a living hell so I just blew you off. I mean, I didn’t know it was you but—”
“They did,” she said, her bottom lip trembling. “They did make my life a living hell. And you did nothing about it.”
“I didn’t know.” The words were a cry, a plea.
“So, you didn’t see the fucking flyers they printed out of my face and my drawing? Didn’t catch the nickname they gave me that I never escaped?”
This time, I really couldn’t place what she was talking about. “What? When?”
“Right after it happened!”
I frowned, shaking my head, and then I grabbed her arms and held her so she’d look at me, so she’d see the sincerity in my eyes when I told her the truth.
“Mary, I didn’t notice anything that entire fucking year. Okay? I was sick over losing you. I was… I don’t even know, paralyzed by the loss of you. I barely passed my classes that semester. I had the worst season of football of my entire life. I spent every waking minute that I wasn’t at school or at practice trying to find you.”
She tried to scoff and brush me off, but I held tight, carefully bringing my knuckles to her chin and tilting it up to look at me again.
“I never would have hurt you on purpose,” I swore, and I prayed she felt it, that she believed me. “But I’m sorry I did. I’m sorry, Mary. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
Her face warped, like my words had speared her, and I knew without much rumination that she had to have been waiting years for me to say them. While I was missing her, wishing for her, she was trying to recover from the ugliest side of me. It killed me to even consider, to know those guys I’d called friends had made her suffer.
That I had made her suffer.
I’d hurt the one girl I’d ever cared for, all without even knowing it.
My stomach rolled at the thought, and I had to hold her. I had to hold her and pray that she felt who I really was, that she’d believe I never would have done this to her had I known.