P.S. I Like You(35)

I stood, shoving the letters back into my bag. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.

“Because you hate him and you seemed so excited about the writing.”

“How long have you known?”

“Not very long. I swear.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? It felt like being slapped in the face today when I saw him at that desk. A little warning would’ve been nice.”

Isabel held up her hands. “I know. I’d hoped after a while that his letters would show you that he wasn’t someone you wanted to continue writing to. Because you hate him.”

I frowned. “I do hate him. But his letters are different … ”

Isabel’s expression went a degree darker. “Wait. You like him? Because of his letters?”

My heart jumped. “No! I don’t. What? Not at all.”

Isabel nodded, looking relieved. “You like David, right?”

“David … He’s fine … nice … ”

Isabel sighed. “You two would be perfect for each other if you’d both give it a chance.”

“Why are you insistent on getting me and David together?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

Isabel shrugged, but her expression said it all. “I thought he was a better match for you.”

“Better than who?” I asked.

“The alternative.”

“Cade?”

“Yes!”

The air seemed to fly out of me and I was rendered silent. She was jealous. She didn’t want me to know I was writing to Cade because she was jealous. Even though she and Cade had dated two years ago and she didn’t like him anymore, she was still jealous.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice softer. “But it shouldn’t matter. You wouldn’t ever like Cade, would you? It would be too awkward, considering the whole history. I mean, I gave him up for you two years ago.”

“But you didn’t give him up for me … you just said that.”

She looked at the floor then back up quickly, but not before I knew the truth. She had broken up with him because of me. Because I couldn’t get along with him. I always suspected that, but she’d always contradicted me. And now I knew for sure.

“Well, I won’t stand in your way anymore,” I snapped. “Go get him back.”

She gasped. “I’m with Gabriel now. I don’t want him back.”

“You just don’t want me to have him.”

“You said you didn’t want him.”

“I don’t.” What was wrong with me? “I need to go.” I headed for her door.

“Lily, wait.”

“I can’t do this right now.”

“We’ll get through this, right?”

“Yes,” I answered right away. “Just not right now.”



It was only eight thirty at night but I was already in bed, staring at my own ceiling now. There were no judging eyes up there, only a blank wall, but I felt just as bad. I sighed.

Why was I so mad at Isabel? I knew one reason—because she’d been lying to me. On purpose. That hurt. Would I ever believe her again?

But … was it more than the lost trust that was bothering me?

Maybe, just maybe, I had wanted her to say it was okay for me to like Cade.

Not that I did. At all.

But in a sense I could understand Isabel’s possessiveness. Two years ago, I’d driven her and Cade apart. I wasn’t a good friend.

The sounds of the house around me were loud—my brothers getting ready for bed in the bathroom next door, my mom yelling to make sure they brushed for two minutes, Ashley laughing on the phone in the hall, my father asking her to keep it down. I forced my eyes closed, listened to the noise of my family instead of the noise in my head. Tomorrow would be better than this day had been. It had to be.





Do you know how disappointing it is to pull out a note expecting a letter from someone, only to see your own handwriting staring back at you? It sucks. You must be sick. Which I’m sure is not very good for you, but think about where that left me. I’m sorry you’re sick. I hope you get better soon.



Okay, so, um that looks like a deformed turtle or something but it was meant to be a bowl of soup. That thing that looks like the turtle’s head is a spoon. Do you see it now? No? I won’t attempt to draw again. I apologize for making you suffer through that and when you’re just recovering from being sick.

Okay, quiz. What music do you listen to when you’re sick? Is it different than or the same as your everyday music? I listen to really sappy music when I’m sick. I don’t know why because I don’t like that music when I’m healthy. Maybe it helps me wallow a little bit more. We need to think of some sappy song lyrics for our fans to listen to when they’re sick. Something like … You thought I was going to make up some song lyrics, didn’t you? I learned my lesson. I’m not.

How’s home life?

I closed my eyes. I would not write back. I would not. The letters were from Cade. He hated me. I hated him.

I folded the letter up and put it back. If I stopped writing he eventually would as well. I needed to stop reading, too. I knew I did. It wasn’t fair to give up on my end of the letter writing but still participate in the reading. The part that, despite knowing who had written it, still gave me a thrill. It still had me nodding my head in agreement and smiling in amusement.