I cross my arms over my chest. “Just say it.”
We’re standing under a street lamp, the light that’s meant to look like an old gas flame shining down onto us. Christmas lights dot the main drag and cascade out into the park across the street, strung up on the gazebo and all along the fence bordering the small pond there.
Sawyer looks down, his long black lashes shielding me from seeing the green of his eyes. His shoulders slump, and he takes a step toward me before blinking up, regret marring his face.
“I am so, so sorry. I have to say that first. Had I known what you found, all those years ago, I would have said it right then. What you saw, that list, Blair, it was inexcusable. I was an idiot, a dumb kid who didn’t know what was right in front of him.”
I have to look down, because I can feel the tears threatening. “You called me rude. You called me stuck up, Sawyer. Those words you wrote … I’ve never felt uglier in my life.”
“God, I’m a fucking moron, okay? All of those cons I listed, they were things that scared me to death. Of course, you’re gorgeous, my God, Blair, I can barely keep my hands off you. Even right now, when I want you to really hear me, I wish I could touch you everywhere. And you aren’t rude, you’re assertive. You know what you want and you go get it. Back then, and now, it’s intimidating. Peer pressure had me climbing the walls; I wasn’t secure enough with myself to be with you and fall into a place where we didn’t have to party, where we didn’t need anyone but each other. I see how goddamn wrong I was, I just want—”
His palm slides over my cheek, and I know he’s about to pull me in. My lips tingle at the thought, but my heart splinters when he touches me.
“No, don’t touch me!” I wrench my face away from him. “You’re only saying this now because I turned pretty. Because my boobs grew in and my ass finally fits in jean shorts the right way. You didn’t want me! Not back when I was just your nerdy little friend, when you couldn’t decide if liking me would be a mark against your rise on the social ladder. I read your words, Sawyer, I know how you viewed me. Instead of appreciating me for the great friend I was to you, instead of following how you truly felt inside, you based my worth off some shallow bullshit. So no, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You only want me now because I’m finally hot enough, right? Two years of being terrible to me, and now I measure up to someone worthy of dating you, is that it? Well, I’m not walking into that trap.”
“B, please—” He uses my nickname, the one he gave me, and his voice is a note of desperation.
“Don’t you dare call me that.” A tear dashes down my cheek, and I swipe at it angrily.
Shit, I don’t want to cry in front of him, but my heart is so bruised that the emotion is leaking out of me.
He steps closer, and I inhale as a warning. But Sawyer isn’t stopping, and in an instant, he is nearly enveloping me.
“I hate myself. I hate that you found that, but I hate even more that I wrote it. I was a shitty, self-centered little boy who couldn’t get his head out of his ass long enough to see that the only girl ever worth loving was standing right in front of him. I won’t make that mistake twice. I see you, Blair. I want you, only you. I’d want you if your ass wasn’t perfect, if your boobs hadn’t grown in. I want you no matter if we’re prom king and queen or sitting with the band geeks at lunch. I. Want. You.”
The cold is singeing me everywhere now, freezing the tips of my nose, ears, and fingers. “How can I ever believe that?”
A beat passes, and then Sawyer stoops down so that I have to look him in the eyes.
“I am going to prove it to you. I’m not going to stop trying to prove to you that for me, you are it. We’ve wasted so much time, I’m not going to let another second slip by. You’ll see.”
I don’t protest as he slips an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close, his warmth seeping into my skin. My heart is beating like a drum at one of our high school football games, vibrating my entire body.
As we walk down the streets of our hometown, I don’t pull away.
22
Sawyer
Christmas rolls around, the marking period ends, and the Odens leave for Haiti.
The first half of the school year seems to have both flown by and crawled at a snail’s pace. On one hand, I can’t believe senior year is almost halfway over. On the other, everything that has happened with Blair and me in the last three months seems like a lifetime of fights, memories and hopefully, some kind of resolution.
It seems as though she’s not going to fight me while I prove to her that I truly didn’t mean any of those things on the list, but I’m kind of glad for some space. She and Todd left for Haiti two days before Christmas, and it means we have to put any conversations or interactions on hold.
Honestly, it’s probably best for us right now. We both said a lot of things; emotions are running high, and taking a bit of a pause is probably a good thing. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss Blair like hell, and there isn’t even a way for me to contact her. In a way, it makes me appreciate and miss her more, and also gives me time to formulate a
