"What's on your mind?"
Startled, I snap my eyes up. Parker is finally making conversation with me. We're heading for my next class now. And I thought, just like before, we'd get there in silence. Obviously, he's done being quiet.
"Why do you want to know?"
His sharp gaze roams my face, as if memorizing every feature. "With you, I want to know everything."
I feel my face heating up. Why does his effect on me remain the same? It's not fair.
You know you're still in love with him. You told him yourself. So why are you still dragging it out? Why can't you admit the truth to him? That you've forgiven him?
Because despite his words and actions slowly chipping at my resolve, I still can't trust him not to break my heart again. Even though I believe that he's sincere about winning me back, there's still a part of me that's afraid he'd revisit the decision that tore us apart. It's the one thing that's keeping me from giving him another chance. What if taking him back will end with me in pieces once again?
I'd be stupid to let that happen.
I need to guard my heart.
"Nothing's on my mind," I finally say, my tone sounding cold even to my ears.
"Are you mad at me?"
Yes! For making me feel things. For making me love you still.
"What's with all the questions?" I snap instead of voicing out the thoughts running in my head.
"Peaches, don't shut me out." He sighs. "I'm just—"
With hard eyes, I round on him. "You know what, Parker? I can take it from here. You don't have to walk me all the way to class. And you don't need to walk me to my car later, either."
I don't wait for his response. I just stride off, feeling annoyed and a little guilty that I lost my cool.
It's not his fault that my thoughts are in constant war with my emotions when it comes to him.
He stays away the rest of the day though, doing exactly what I asked of him, giving me much needed space.
It's what I want, isn't it? But honestly, I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, I know I need to make up my mind. I need to make a decision on whether or not I want him back in my life.
And I need to do it fast. I can't just leave him hanging and make him feel like I'm stringing him along. It wouldn't be fair to him.
When I get home, Duke is waiting for me at the foyer, whining and jumping around, his tail wagging wildly.
I pat his head absently, my thoughts still wrapped around Parker and the decision looming over me. I feel like I need to talk to someone about it. Quinn will be willing to listen—she always does—but she'll just likely tell me to make him wait. Funny enough, it's probably the only thing she and Peyton agree about. Not that I'm planning to mention that part.
I'd go to Avery, but my sister is busy preparing for an upcoming exam. I don't want to bother her. I'll just probably wait for her to get home.
Dad's office is wide open as I walk past. I'm about to keep heading up the stairs so as not to bother him, but then I peek inside and see him holding a picture frame, a wistful look etched on his face.
I don't have to glance at it to know that it's a picture of Mom. It's been on his desk for years. He always says Mom's smiling face gives him the inspiration to write. And every novel he's written since her death has been dedicated to her.
Avery and I cried the first time he mentioned that. We all did. It's bittersweet, knowing that she plays an important part in his writing career, even though she's no longer here.
Then again, Mom inspires me to write, too. Her memories keep the idea flowing. It feels good to know that Dad and I have that in common.
Lifting my hand, I softly knock on the door. "Hey, Dad."
He glances up and smiles, setting the picture back on his desk. "Everything okay?"
My lips hitch up at the corners. "Just dandy." I step inside the room. "Having writer's block?"
"I finished three chapters, so no. But I think I'll call it a day."
"This early?" My brows arch up in surprise before furrowing in concern. He works himself too hard sometimes. "You're not feeling sick, are you? Do you want me to make you a soup or something?"
"I'm fine, kid." He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just tired and a slight headache." When I open my mouth to argue, he hurries on, "Nothing a short nap can't cure. Anyway, how's your day?"
I casually shrug my shoulders. "Great. Uneventful as always."
Dad stares at me for a beat, seeing through the facade. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
He's clearly thinking about the days I spent in my room, refusing to go to school. I haven't told him anything, but he knows it had something to do with Parker. It doesn't take a genius to find out about it, anyway. For one, Parker hasn't been around. And two, I've been actively avoiding talking about him whenever his name comes up.
I'm not comfortable discussing my relationship problems with my Dad—Avery's there for that reason alone—but there's something else I can talk to him about. And I think it's more important.
"Don't be afraid to talk to him. Trust me, he'll be as impressed as I am."
I hope you're right, Ms. Langham.
Drawing courage from her words, I take a deep breath. "Actually, I need to tell you something."
CHAPTER 38
Sawyer
Parker's not at school today. At first, I thought
