Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Pretty much.”
“What a jackass,” I heard Kylie hiss behind me. I didn’t turn to look at her. I was too embarrassed.
“Fine.”
Drake didn’t say anything right away. The line went silent for so long I thought he’d hung up. But when I lifted the phone the seconds were still rolling, which meant he hadn’t.
“I just don’t get what you see in me,” he murmured.
“I told you. There’s more to you than you let people see.”
“And that’s enough to want to get to know me? The real me? Because the real me isn’t good. Fucking far from it, Jenny.”
“I know you believe that, but I don’t. I can handle your bad.”
“Can you?”
“Yes,” I said, finally annoyed. “Yes, Drake, I can. You said things changed. Yes, they have, and what you fail to realize is that I’m not ten anymore. I’m eighteen. I’m older and I know what I want!”
“You shouldn’t want me, Jenny.”
“But I do,” I whispered. I clung to the phone, begging for him to just let me in, open up like he did eight years ago. Trust me, for once.
But I was holding onto nothing because in a matter of seconds the line was dead and the screen was blank.
He’d hung up.
Chapter 8
Jenny
I was weak.
Irrefutably weak.
I dialed.
The phone would ring.
I would hang up before he could even answer.
I repeated this four times, not once letting the call go through. It was settled. I had his phone number. I could call and keep hanging up before he got the chance to answer.
But… something just wasn’t right. Instead of forgetting my number, he memorized it. He could have kept it as it was—trash in the bin—but he didn’t. He stored it in his memory bank, created a new place in his brain for me.
Why would he call just to tell me he wanted me to leave him alone?
Was he playing hard to get? Surely, he was. That’s what Kylie was thinking.
“He’s being an asshole on purpose,” she said. “It’s what boys do. Trust me, if he really didn’t want you to get to know him he wouldn’t have shown up for the party last night and he damn sure wouldn’t have called you today.”
She said all this nonchalantly, while filing her nails. Yes, it made sense. But then again it didn’t. I considered Drake a serious guy. He didn’t like to hold back on whatever was on his mind. He obviously wanted me to leave him alone, but was this a sign for me to keep trying?
Maybe he secretly liked that I was trying and didn’t want to lose that. Perhaps I wasn’t winning him over. Perhaps my reasons weren’t enough. He didn’t trust me. He hardly trusted anyone.
I dropped my phone on the bed and entered the bathroom, rinsing my face with cool water. I changed into my nightgown, brushed my teeth, and then shut the lights off.
When I returned to the room, the screen of my phone was blinking. I hurried for it, snatching it up and reading the text message.
Drake: Your calls are coming through.
Hope you realize that.
Me: Why would you give me your number if you know how I am?
You knew I’d call back…
My fingers were furious as I ran them over the keyboard. What was this stupid game he was playing? He was confusing me now and it was frustrating me to no end. My phone buzzed again, stealing away my thoughts.
Drake: I wanted to tell you to leave me alone.
Me: You could’ve done that in person.
I didn’t get a response for nearly ten minutes, each one ticking by like the slow beat of a drum.
Drake: You’re right. I could have…
Me: So why call?!?
No response.
Me: Drake!?
He never responded after that text.
I woke up, expecting a response to my unanswered message but there was nothing from him. Just a missed call from Kylie and an email from the Leighton Cove Newsletter, mentioning Mom’s “exciting new children’s book”.
I sighed, flopping back down and burying myself beneath my fuzzy turquoise blanket. It was my favorite one. A Christmas gift from Mitchell. It was a hand me down gift, something he got from our Grandma Peggy when he was eleven, but I always used it more.
He would never let me keep it in my room, though. He always asked for it back at night, until I turned seven. That was my Christmas gift. That’s also when Mom started having her episodes. I guess he gave it to me to comfort me.
It no longer smelled like him.
His smell had long washed away. But it couldn’t erase the memories.
He would use the blanket to cover me late at night if I fell asleep in his room. If he were too tired, he’d just leave me in his bedroom and share his bed with me. I knew he hated sharing his bed, but he always did for me.