Page 113 of One Week Hating You
Why?
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Because Peter and I are done. Officially. It’s over.
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I’m sorry.
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Are you really?
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No. I was just saying that. You’re too good for him.
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Yes, I am.
I wait for his reply,but it doesn’t come. Would he just leave me hanging? Too many people do that on Messenger.
My phone rings, and I know it’s him before I even pick it up.
“Hey, Freckles,” he says.
I love the sound of his voice, the low timbre, the huskiness of it. He has a very unique voice.
“Hey.” I don’t want to say more because I’m afraid I’ll break into sobs.
“How are you doing?”
Despite my best efforts, my voice cracks when I reply, “I-I’m… o-kay.”
“Are you crying?”
“N-no…”
“You are.”
“Blake…” I say through sobs. “I… don’t want to talk about it. I’m just tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Wait… we need to talk this out.”
“Tomorrow, maybe,” I say softly. “Goodnight, Blake.” I hang up, in shatters.
He promptly calls me back. I let it go to voice mail. I just can’t speak to him right now, or anyone else. I’ve always been like this. When I’m hurt, I like to be by myself. Following my father’s death, I locked myself up in my room for days, only coming out for the funeral and burial. I wouldn’t speak to anyone; Momma, Marilyn, Tim, Mandy, even Blake.
I’ve always thought that he was the one who pulled away after the accident, but in truth, I was the first one to put a fence around my heart, almost as if I was afraid to love anyone, for fear that I might lose them too.
My phone pings, but I ignore it. I pop a Gravol to help me fall asleep, and crawl into bed.
Tomorrow is another day.
I’m wokenby a loud bang. My heart instantly kicks into overdrive. I scramble out of bed and grab one of the chunky candle holders Kayla gave me. It was originally a set of three, but now I only have two since I threw one at Peter’s head and broke it. My heart pounds hard against my ribcage as I venture to the door, where the banging is coming from. I hear my name. Could it be Peter? It couldn’t be – he still has a key. As I inch closer, my heart threatens to burst out of my ribcage.
I’m scared shitless.
