Chapter 21
Sydney
Being home was a relief, standing in my heated old bedroom, surrounded by all my things from childhood straight up to my teen years. But I’d been in this funk since we’d arrived in Hagerstown three days ago.
I needed to get peppy or something. Christmas Eve was in two days, and it’d always been my favorite holiday—the food, the family, the presents—everything about it.
Meh.
My bedroom was weird in a way, like a time capsule. Never bothered me before, but right now? I wanted to take a sledgehammer to the room. I was embarrassed by the brown and white teddy bears stacked near the pillows. I picked one up, a red bear Kyler had given me for my eleventh birthday. Pain sliced my chest, and I placed the bear back down and turned away from my bed. I was bored with the overstocked bookcases. I couldn’t care less about the ribbons Mom had tacked on the wall above my desk, hanging in a line next to the academic awards I’d accumulated throughout high school. There were newspaper cuttings of the Dean’s List. I started to straighten one of the frames, but stopped and left it the way it was. Crooked. Unbalanced. Imperfect.
Turning away from the awards, ribbons, and clippings, I picked up my old cell phone off the bed and slipped it into my pocket. I headed downstairs, finding Mom in the kitchen. Dad was still at the office. Some things never changed, including his late nights.
The whole lower floor smelled like apple pie and cinnamon—usually my favorite. Mom looked up from the magazine she was poring over as I dropped into the seat in front of her. “Are you still going out with Andrea tonight?”
Dropping my elbows on the table, I put my chin in my hands. “Yeah, she’s driving up from Frederick and picking me up in a little bit. We’re going to grab dinner.” And I had a feeling she’d be visiting Tanner later, who was home in Smithsburg, about ten minutes away.
“Good.” Mom winked. “I didn’t put enough chicken in the oven to feed you and your father.”
“Nice.”
She laughed softly as she flipped a page. “Has your lip been bothering you?”
“No. It’s fine.” And it practically was. Just a little mark was on it, near the corner, and my jaw didn’t hurt anymore. “I hope you’re not worrying about it.”
“Of course I’m worrying about it. What you went through?” She took a deep breath and closed the magazine. Looking up, she fixed dark eyes on me. “Honey, I—”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.” I placed my hands on the kitchen table. “I’m fine. It’s over. In the past.”
“Until the case goes to court,” she reminded me gently.
“He might plead guilty, and then I won’t have to testify or anything.” And God, I really hoped that was the case. “Anyway, if I have to do it, I’ll do it.”
Mom didn’t say anything for a moment as she watched me. I sighed as I sat back, knowing she was about to say something I didn’t want to hear. She had that “Mom” look about her. “Honey,” she started, and my suspicions were confirmed. “I was talking to Mrs. Banks about what happened. You know, she’s the school counselor.”
Oh. Dear. God.
“And she suggested what I thought would be best,” she continued carefully. “I think you should talk to someone about what happened to you.”
“What?” My jaw hit my lap. “You’re kidding, right?”
Mom frowned. “Honey, you’re going to school to be a psychiatrist—”
“Psychologist,” I corrected.
Her frown deepened. “Anyway, you know how important it is for people to talk things out and not hold them in.”
I resisted my urge to roll my eyes. I did know how important that was. And while those moments with Zach had been the scariest in my life—and there were still moments where it haunted me—I didn’t need to talk about it and soak up a therapist’s time that could be better spent helping someone who needed it.
“Mom, I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m okay. Really, I am. I promise.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then why have you been moping around this house like someone kicked your puppy into the street?”
I made a face, but my stomach dropped. “That’s real nice, Mom.”
“You know what I mean.”
Tracing the grain in the wood of the tabletop, I shrugged.
“I haven’t been moping around.”
“Yes, you have.” She picked up her cup and stood, taking it over to the sink, where she washed it out before slipping it into the dishwasher. When she finished, she faced me and crossed her arms. “I have never seen you so listless and unhappy this close to Christmas before. So if it wasn’t what happened to you, then what is it?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just in a mood or something.”
Mom sighed. “Honey, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything. You’re not too old for that.”
“I know.” But what was bothering me was something I was so not talking to my mom about.
Her lips pursed. “Is it Kyler?”
Ah, there it was. That horrible sinking feeling expanded through me at the mention of his name. My entire body locked up, and a hollow feeling poured into my chest. It was like being punched and knocked down. Kyler. Kyler. Kyler. I’d tried not to think about him since I’d left Snowshoe. That was as easy and fun as playing Frogger on the interstate.
Kyler consumed my thoughts no matter what I did. And the worst part? Two out of the three nights I’d dreamt about him. God, it made me lamer than normal.
But I did know something I’d never really known before.
This was what a broken heart really felt like. Silly me, thinking I knew what it felt like every time I’d seen Kyler with a new chick. That had nothing on this.
I tucked my hair back and decided on, “Why do you think it has to do with Kyler?”
“Well, for starters, I’m not blind.”
My brows rose.
“Kyler hasn’t been here once since you got home. That boy practically lives in this house when you’re home from school. And not once has he stopped by, and that is like the sign of the apocalypse.”
I would’ve laughed at that, but it was true and it made my throat burn.
“I thought it was strange how you left without saying goodbye to him, but I chalked it up to the shock of everything that’d happened.” Mom walked over to the table and sat across from me. “And then there’s the fact that I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even called you.”
Wow. Thanks for reminding me. Not that I believed he’d call. I’d made things pretty clear in Snowshoe, but the fact that he hadn’t called stung like a hornet. And that was stupid, because I wasn’t ready to talk to him, but if I was being honest with myself—which sucked and who wanted to do that?—I knew what I really wanted.
Kyler to come begging and pleading for forgiveness—forgiveness I wasn’t even sure I could give.
“So I’m assuming something happened between you two,” Mom said.
“You know what they say about assuming things…”