P.S. I Like You(38)

I shook my head. I hated him for making me feel sorry for him. For showing me a different side to him. I had a feeling that this—the person in the letters—was his real side. But what good was knowing that? He’d never reveal that side in public. I wrote back.

You know, your awesome advice was just what I needed. I’m now hanging in there and the second I put my chin up I felt one hundred percent better. Who knew those bits of advice actually worked? Also, “made” is such a strong word. I think I merely suggested that you listen to that song. If my suggestion creates an undying desire to act, that’s on you.

No, really, I feel a little better today. My friend and I made up this morning. I think we’re good. If not all the way, we will be soon, I’m sure. My brother and I are at a standoff. I know I’ll soften soon because he’s the prince of the house and as aggravating as he is, I love his face. He still won’t admit to what he did, though. I have a hard time with people who do one thing in one situation and a completely different thing in another. Once he aligns himself, I’ll feel much better.

Okay so that was a totally passive-aggressive statement but I couldn’t help it. I needed to get that off my chest. I stuck the letter in its home and was actually able to focus on Chemistry the rest of class.





“Your detention is really making my life hard.”

“Hi, Ashley, nice to see you, too.” I shut the car door and my sister peeled out of the parking lot. “What’s the hurry?”

“I have to get to work.”

“Then why didn’t Mom pick me up?”

“She has some craft fair out of town.”

“On a Thursday afternoon?”

“I don’t know all the details. Ask her.”

I stopped talking. I could tell my sister was done. I reached up and pulled out the elastic band holding my hair back then ran my fingers through my waves.

“Mom said somebody is picking up Wyatt in a little bit for his first club baseball practice,” Ashley added, “so make sure he eats something right away.”

“Okay.”

“And I guess dinner is whatever you want.”

That meant cold cereal. “Okay.”

She barely stopped enough for me to climb out of the car before she was off again. “Thanks for the ride,” I said to her taillights.

Inside, I yelled into the TV room, “Wyatt, eat. You have baseball practice.” Then I went to my room and changed my jeans for a pair of loose shorts, my blouse for a tank top and my flats for a pair of wool socks that went up to my knees—the socks because I wanted to dress like it was summer when technically it was heading toward winter. Arizona winter, but still. I felt better until I tripped over the edge of my guitar case. I snarled at it and kicked it all the way under the bed. My door creaked open.

“Uh, knock, please,” I said. When I turned around I could see Jonah standing in the small opening.

He pushed open the door but didn’t breach the threshold. I should’ve opened my arms and let him run to me but I didn’t. I offered him a stiff smile. “Yes?”

“Can you get me some cereal?”

“You know how to get your own cereal, buddy.”

He frowned at the space under my bed. “I didn’t do it.”

I sighed. “Jonah. It’s important to take responsibility when we do the wrong thing. If you can’t tell me what you did, then how am I supposed to believe that you’re sorry?”

His bottom lip stuck out. “I’m sorry that you hate me.”

I sighed. “I’m mad that my guitar is broken and I’m mad that you touch my things without asking. But I don’t hate you. I will never hate you.”

“I didn’t do it.”

It was a lost cause. One day the truth would come out. And even then, it wouldn’t matter. My guitar would still be broken. “Okay, go eat.”

I sat down on my bed and docked my phone on my stereo, turning it up as loud as I could stand. Listening to Blackout didn’t necessarily accomplish its intended purpose of relaxing me—because now they made me think of Cade and the letters. But I would not let him ruin my favorite band for me. I turned the music up another notch.

I opened my notebook and stared down a sketch I had started in detention. I wasn’t sure what I wasn’t liking about the design.

Jonah appeared at my door, his mouth moving but only music sounding. I switched off the song.

“Someone’s at the door,” he said.

“Oh, okay.” I stood up. I figured it was the mom of one of Wyatt’s teammates, coming to pick him up.

When I rounded the corner though, Cade Jennings was standing in the open doorway.

I’m sure my face fell in shock. Cade’s expression was also one of utter surprise.

I was so shocked, in fact, that I slammed the door in his face.

What was Cade doing here? Did he figure out the truth about the letters? My heart was pounding. It was probably too late to go run and change my clothes. He’d already seen me and my knee high socks. I took one step back and then I heard Cade knock three times. I tried to pat down my crazy hair once before giving up and opening the door again.

Cade’s initial look of shock had softened to his normal look of smugness. He took in my hair and outfit.

“Shut up,” I said.