Losing Hope

hope I’m not wrong about her, because I like being around her. She actually makes me feel like I have a purpose. I haven’t felt like I had a purpose in over thirteen months.

I glance up when she walks back into the room and she smiles sheepishly. She has a cookie in her mouth and another in her hand. She holds it out to me and drops down next to me on the bed. Her head lands against her pillow and she sighs.

“I guess the gay-bashing asshole remark was really judgmental on my part then, huh? You aren’t really an ignorant homophobe who spent the last year in juvenile detention?”

Mission accomplished.

And it was so much easier than I thought it would be.

I smile and scoot down until I’m flat on the bed next to her. “Nope,” I say, looking up at the stars plastered across her ceiling. “Not at all. I spent the entire last year living with my father in Austin. I don’t even know where the story about me being sent to juvi came into the picture.”

“Why don’t you defend yourself against the rumors if they aren’t true?”

What an odd question, coming from someone who hasn’t defended herself at all this entire week. I glance in her direction. “Why don’t you?”

She quietly nods. “Touche.”

We both look back up to her ceiling. I like that she was so easy to come around. I like that she didn’t argue about it, especially knowing how stubborn she is.

I like that I was right about her.

“The window comment from earlier?” she says. “You were just making a point about rumors? You really weren’t trying to be mean?”

I hate that she actually thought I was just being cruel, even if it was only for a minute. I don’t want her to ever think that about me. “I’m not mean, Sky.”

“You’re intense. I’m right about that, at least.”

“I may be intense, but I’m not mean.”

“Well, I’m not a slut.”

“I’m not a gay-bashing asshole.”

“So we’re all clear?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

It’s quiet for another moment until she inhales a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, Holder.”

“I know, Sky,” I say. I didn’t come here for an apology. I don’t want her to feel guilty about her misconception. “I know.”

She doesn’t say anything else and we both continue to look up at the stars. I’m conflicted right now because we’re both on her bed and as much as I try to ignore my attraction for her, it’s sort of hard when I’m inches from her.

I’m curious if she finds me attractive at all. I’m almost positive she does based on the tiny things she does when I’m around her that she tries to hide. Like the times I’ve caught her staring at my chest when I ran with her. Or the way she sucks in a breath when I lean in to speak to her. Or how she always seems to be struggling not to smile when she’s trying so hard to be mad at me.

I’m not positive what she thinks about me or how she feels, but I know one thing . . . she definitely doesn’t act indifferent toward me like she does toward Grayson.

Thinking about that incident and how just a few hours ago she was kissing him makes me grimace. It may not be appropriate to ask her about it, but I sure as hell can’t stop thinking about how much I hate the thought of her kissing anyone, especially Grayson. And if there’s ever a chance that I’ll be the one kissing her, I need to know that she won’t be kissing him again.

Ever.

“I need to ask you something,” I say. I prepare myself to bring it up, knowing she more than likely doesn’t want to talk about it. But I have to know how she feels about him. I inhale a deep breath and roll over to face her. “Why were you letting Grayson do what he was doing to you in the parking lot?”

She winces and shakes her head ever so slightly. “I already told you. He’s not my boyfriend and he’s not the one who gave me the black eye.”

“I’m not asking because of any of that,” I say, even though I really am. “I’m asking because I saw how you reacted. You were irritated with him. You even looked a little bored. I just want to know why you allow him to do those things if you clearly don’t want him touching you.”

She’s quiet for a second. “My lack of interest was that obvious?”

“Yep. And from fifty yards away. I’m just surprised he didn’t take the hint.”

She immediately flips onto her side and props up on her elbow. “I know, right? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve turned him down but he just doesn’t stop. It’s really pathetic. And unattractive.”

I can’t even describe how good it feels to hear her say that.

“Then why do you let him do it?”

She keeps her eyes locked on mine, but she doesn’t answer me. We’re inches apart. On her bed. Her mouth is right here.

So close.

We both flip onto our backs almost simultaneously.

“It’s complicated,” she says. Her voice sounds sad and I definitely didn’t come here to make her feel sad.

“You don’t have to explain. I was just curious. It’s really not my business.”

She pulls her arms up behind her head and rests her head on her hands. “Have you ever had a serious girlfriend?”

I have no idea where she’s going with this, but at least she’s talking, so I go with it. “Yep,” I say. “But I hope you aren’t about to ask for details, because I don’t go there.”

“That’s not why I’m asking,” she says, shaking her head. “When you kissed her, what did you feel?”

I definitely don’t know where she’s going with this. But still, I indulge her. It’s the least I can do for showing up unannounced, then practically insulting her reputation before getting my point across.

“You want honesty, right?”

“That’s all I ever want,” she says, mimicking my own words.

I grin. “All right, then. I guess I felt . . . horny.”

When I say the word horny, I swear she sucks in a breath. She’s quick to recover, though. “So you get the butterflies and the sweaty palms and the rapid heartbeat and all that?” she asks.

“Yeah. Not with every girl I’ve been with, but most of them.”

She tilts her head toward me and arches an eyebrow, which makes me grin. “There weren’t that many,” I say. At least I don’t think there were that many. I’m not sure what number constitutes a lot at this point and even then, people measure things on different scales. “What’s your point?” I ask, relieved she isn’t asking me to clarify exactly how many there have been.

“My point is that I don’t. I don’t feel any of that. When I make out with guys, I don’t feel anything at all. Just numbness. So sometimes I let Grayson do what he does to me, not because I enjoy it, but because I like not feeling anything at all.”

I was absolutely not expecting that answer. I’m not sure that I like that answer. I mean, I like that she doesn’t actually feel anything for Grayson, but I hate that it hasn’t stopped her from letting him try to get what he wants.

I also don’t like that she admitted to never feeling anything, because I can honestly say when I’m around her, I’ve never felt so much.

“I know it doesn’t make sense, and no, I’m not a lesbian,” she says defensively. “I’ve just never been attracted to anyone before you and I don’t know why.”

I quickly turn and look at her, not sure that I heard her correctly. But based on her reaction and the way her arm comes up and immediately covers her face, I know for a fact I heard her correctly.

She’s attracted to me.

And she didn’t intend to admit that out loud.