Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(46)
I pull my hand away and roll over, then stand up. I walk the ten feet back to my house and I climb inside my room, then close the window behind me.
It’s been almost four weeks now. He never showed up to run with me again and he never apologized.
He doesn’t sit by me in class or in the cafeteria. He doesn’t send me insulting texts and he doesn’t show up on weekends as a different person. The only thing he does, at least I think he’s the one that does it, is remove the sticky notes from my locker. They’re always crumpled in a wad on the hallway floor at my feet.
I continue to exist, and he continues to exist, but we don’t exist together. Days continue to pass no matter who I exist with, though. And the more days that plant themselves between the present and that weekend with him just leave me with more and more questions that I’m too stubborn to ask.
I want to know what set him off that day. I want to know why he didn’t just let it go instead of storming off like he did. I want to know why he never apologized, because I’m almost positive I would have given him at least one more chance. What he did was crazy and strange and a little possessive, but if I weighed it on a scale against all the wonderful things about him, I know it wouldn’t have weighed nearly as much.
Breckin doesn’t even try to analyze it anymore so I pretend not to, either. But I do, and the thing that eats at me the most is the fact that everything that happened between us is starting to seem surreal, like it was all just a dream. I catch myself questioning whether or not that weekend even happened at all, or if it was just another invalidated memory of mine that may not even be real.
For this entire month, the one thing on the forefront of my mind more than anything (and I know this is really pathetic) is the fact that I never did get to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him so incredibly bad that knowing I won’t get to experience it leaves me feeling like there’s this huge gaping hole in my chest. The ease at which we interacted, the way he would touch me like it was what he was supposed to do, the kisses he would plant in my hair—they were all small pieces of something so much bigger. Something big enough that, even though we never kissed, deserves some sort of recognition from him. Some sort of respect. He treats whatever was about to develop between us like it was wrong, and it hurts. Because I know he felt it. I know he did. And if he felt it in the same way that I felt it, then I know he still feels it.
I’m not heartbroken and I still haven’t shed a single tear over the entire situation. I can’t be heartbroken because luckily, I had yet to give him that part of me. But I’m not too proud to admit that I am a little sad about it all, and I know it’ll take time because I really, really liked him. So, I’m fine. I’m a little sad, and a whole lot confused, but I’m fine.
“What’s this?” I ask Breckin, looking down at the table. He just placed a box in front of me. A very nicely wrapped box.
“Just a little reminder.”
I look up at him questioningly. “For what?”
He laughs and pushes the box closer to me. “It’s a reminder that tomorrow’s your birthday. Now open it.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, then push it to the side. “I was hoping you’d forget.” He grabs the gift and pushes it back in front of me. “Open the damn present, Sky. I know you hate getting gifts, but I love giving them, so stop being a depressing bitch and open it and love it and hug me and thank me.”
I slump my shoulders and push my empty tray aside, then pull the box back in front of me. “You’re a good gift wrapper,” I say. I untie the bow and tear open one end of the box, then slide open the paper. I look down at the picture on the box and cock my eyebrow. “You got me a TV?” Breckin laughs and shakes his head, then picks the box up. “It’s not a TV, dummy. It’s an e-reader.”
“Oh,” I say. I have no idea what an e-reader is, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to have one. I would just accept it like I accepted Six’s cell phone, but this thing is too big for me to hide in my pocket.
“You’re kidding, right?” He leans toward me. “You don’t know what an e-reader is?” I shrug. “It still looks like a tiny TV to me.”
He laughs even louder and opens the box, pulling the e-reader out. He turns it on and hands it back to me. “It’s an electronic device that holds more books than you’ll ever be able to read.” He pushes a button and the screen lights up, then he runs his finger across the front, pressing it in places until the whole screen is lit up with dozens of small pictures of books. I touch one of the pictures and the screen changes, then the book cover fills the entire screen. He slides his finger across it and the page virtually turns and I’m staring at chapter one.
I immediately start scrolling my finger across the screen and watch as each page turns effortlessly, one right after the other. It’s absolutely the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I hit more buttons and click on more books and scroll through more chapters and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a more magnificent, practical invention.
“Wow,” I whisper. I keep staring at the e-reader, hoping he’s not playing some cruel joke on me, because if he tries to pry this out of my hands I’ll run.
“You like it?” he asks proudly. “I loaded about two hundred free books on there so you should be good for a while.”