Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I feel like I’m supposed to say something supportive and encouraging, but I’ve still got my own guard up from the way my so-called friends acted when I came back home.”
Zane turns to me again, his forehead creasing in that familiar way it does when he’s confused.
“Remember when you asked me why I thought anyone would send me that admirer letter as a joke?” I ask, and he nods. “I had a few friends from South Wyachet High…or at least that’s what I thought they were. Some went off to other states for college, but we kept up. After I came home, one reached out to see how I was doing. I was vulnerable and needed to talk to someone other than a therapist, so I told them what went down, asking them to keep it between us.
“Shortly after, the group got weird when I messaged. Being short with me. Like I was dead to them, which hey, we’re in college now, I figured that was natural. But then I ran into this girl from high school at the mall, outside the Build-A-Bear where she worked. And she randomly started chatting me up about her mental-health issues, which I thought was strange since we didn’t know each other that well. Come to find out, she was being so open, she said, because someone from another friend group—not the one I’d told—said I’d lost my mind at GSU.”
“That is not cool.”
“Right? I don’t know what they told her, but she mentioned she was surprised I wasn’t doing jail time. So I confronted my so-called friends, and they treated me like I was unhinged because I was pissed about their lies. One of the guys, James, went on Facebook and posted that I was spreading vicious lies about him to people. Tried to act like some kind of hero too. Said he knew I was going through shit, but it didn’t excuse bad behavior. It really did a number on me because that was the total opposite of what was going on, and none of the others in our group came to my defense. Then suddenly, I was getting nasty messages from other people from school. Started getting spam, like people were signing me up for shit, and then a few nasty messages from numbers I didn’t recognize. It was open season, I guess, since they thought I’d been a dick to their friend. So when I got the letter, I was in a weird headspace. Thought it might be someone who got wind of ‘Psycho Leif’ and was getting a laugh at my expense to avenge their cool buddy.”
As I finish, Zane’s quiet before he stops on the sidewalk.
I stop too and turn to him. “Do you believe me?”
His head tilts, his forehead tensing. “What?”
I shouldn’t have asked that. I should keep my dumb fucking mouth shut, but I can’t help myself. Not around him. “I know it’s stupid, but even after everything we’ve shared, part of me fears you heard all that and think I must’ve been in the wrong. That all those people wouldn’t have turned on me otherwise.”
He steps toward me, studying my expression. “Get that out of your pretty head. The only thing I was thinking is that maybe I made the right choice by not letting people in.” My knee-jerk response is to agree with him, when he adds, “But had I done that, I never would have met you.”
As we gaze into each other’s eyes, I feel like I can see all the hurt and torment in his soul reflecting the dark times he’s shared with me and even those he hasn’t. All those things he’s put up walls to protect and guard, the very walls he’s broken through to share with me.
He reaches out and takes my hand, stroking the back gently, reminding me of the walls I’ve broken through to share with him, including that story about my ex-friends.
He pries his hand away, glancing at the houses around us. “Guess I shouldn’t give the neighborhood gossip mill something to talk about.”
“No, I guess you shouldn’t,” I say, then lurch forward, taking a kiss.
His lips feel better than ever, offering much-needed warmth, and my tongue takes a quick sweep across his before I pull away.
He grins. “This could get back to your parents.”
“Maybe it’s about time it did,” I say, taking his hand and starting down the street.
We’ve never held hands on a walk like this before, but I like it. Hell, if I’d known it would feel this good, I would’ve done it sooner.
The park is less than half a mile from our homes, and when we arrive, Zane asks, “Where are all the people? I figured it’d be packed.”
“Most everyone around here has their own yards. And there’s a huge slope on the other side, near Graham Drive, but there’s another hill I like to come to.”