Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
He never responded.
Cameron said she’s seen him a time or two when visiting Trey, but he doesn’t stop to talk with anyone, simply going straight to his room. She has talked to Chase.
According to her, he’s resorted to coming over now that there’s no denying, I’m ignoring him. Supposedly, he stopped by twice this week already, both times when I was out, thank god.
With how determined he seems to be to try and reach me, I’m not sure how much longer I can avoid him, a fact that rings true when I round the corner of the library, where I’ve been hiding myself most days, and there Chase sits not fifteen yards away.
I freeze in place, a million thoughts running through my mind, the loudest of which telling me to make a run for it, but my feet don’t move.
Maybe it’s time to let him say what’s on his mind. To have a real conversation, like we should have done so long ago. The problem is, I wasn’t ready for it then, and to be honest, I don’t think he was either.
Over the last few days, I’ve thought a lot about Chase, more than I care to admit, but it was what Noah asked of me, and I realized quickly how necessary it was.
I had blocked out everything, the pain that came with the mention of his name alone was too much at the time and it caused everything to become muddled. I put him in a box and pushed it away.
I needed to remember, to revisit every moment with Chase to realize where we went wrong… and where we felt right. My memories reminded me of why I fell in love with him in the first place. Alone with my thoughts, I cried and laughed, and then I realized…
I missed him.
I miss the guy who would take it easy on me when the others would get on my case about a skirt they thought was a little too short. The guy who slipped me and Cameron a couple beers in secret, when Mason said we weren’t allowed to get drunk.
The guy who stayed out in the water with me long after the others complained of the cold because he knew I hated when it was time to leave the ocean.
But it wasn’t only about him.
I missed our group nights, where no one else was invited, just the five of us.
Me, Cameron, Mason, Brady, and Chase.
Ever since junior high, the only time we were apart was a few weeks each summer when the boys went off to football camp, but even then, we would video chat at least once a day.
Of course Cam and I would have a blast without our bodyguards, but we quickly missed the other pieces to our puzzle. Even when we were having the time of our lives in St. Petersburg this past summer, where Cam met Trey, we missed our boys.
After the blowout with Chase at the beginning of the school year, things changed, and it wasn’t fair to the others, especially since they are pretty much clueless to why the air in the room was different.
It’s time to make it right for all of us, for real this time. I know that, but even so, I can’t express how guilty I feel for missing Chase.
How could I miss the man I was so angry with that I so callously hurt mine?
I ache for Noah, deeply, desperately.
The loss eating me away day by day is like nothing I’ve ever felt. So many times, I wanted to say to hell with it and run all the way to his house, but I held myself back. Barely.
I did head there once, when I was feeling extra alone, but as soon as his truck came into view, tears fell, and I turned around.
What kills me most is how I know he’s living right now. Alone and in silence.
He doesn’t party much, if at all, and he doesn’t run in a large crowd. All the free time he had he spent with me, and I know he hasn’t filled those slots with anything else.
I know he’s as lonely as I am, more so even.
What’s worse is what must be running through his mind, doubt I planted.
It’s my job to take it away.
It’s with that thought in mind that I don’t turn around and walk in the opposite direction.
I walk over to Chase.
Dressed in a hoodie and sweats with his football bag dropped in front of him, his head hangs. His leg is bouncing like he’s nervous, and he stares at his palms as he rubs them together.
“Hey,” I call once I’m a few steps away.
His head pops up, unease written all over him. “Hey.”
Chase jumps up, his mouth opening but nothing comes out, so I offer a small smile and that seems to ease him some.