Page 87 of Begin Again
Chapter 24
The remaining vacation days dragged on. Dawn had called to tell me about her own Thanksgiving drama: Her ex had showed up with his new girlfriend. So I wasn’t the only one who’d had a terrible break. Today she’d be back in Woodshill, and I couldn’t wait to see her again, after spending so much time in bed watching TV series to distract myself.
Kaden and I had been avoiding each other. We didn’t even drink our morning coffee together anymore. Each of us prepared our own, which was a real step backward for us. I’d seen him only twice since we got back, and both times he was just leaving the apartment.
This radio silence hurt. On the first night it was hard not to go to him, whether he wanted me or not. I missed him and longed for his presence. My heart physically ached to be near him. But at the same time, it was clear that we were better off going cold turkey. We needed distance.
And I had to get out of this apartment, even for just a few hours. When Dawn wrote that she was back in the dormitory and I could drop by, I dropped everything and headed over there. We could compare notes about our holidays and binge on candy. Nothing sounded better to me right now.
The dorm wasn’t dead, but it was still pretty quiet.
I knocked a couple of times on Dawn’s door; two seconds later it burst open.
Confused, I froze and blinked.
It wasn’t Dawn. It was Sawyer standing there. Kaden’s non-girlfriend, the one I’d run up against on my first weekend in Woodshill and never seen anywhere near our place since.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out.
Sawyer didn’t look surprised to see me but just rolled her eyes. “I live here,” she said, stepping aside so I could enter. “Unfortunately.” She added.
“If you can get her to stop crying, I’ll pay you.” She pushed past me and closed the door hard behind her.
Stunned, I stared after her. So Sawyer was the weird roommate, the one Dawn was always trying to avoid. Unbelievable.
I shook my head. There would be time to mull this over later. For now, Dawn needed my help.
She lay curled up on the bed, with the blanket pulled up around her.
“Dawn?” I ventured.
“She’s nuts,” came her muffled voice from under the blanket; a corner lifted up, revealing a bit of Dawn’s face. She looked just the way I’d been feeling since Thanksgiving. Not great. “I’m not crying at all.”
I knelt beside the bed and lifted a lock of chestnut hair from her forehead. “Are you just tired?”
She shook her head.
“No. I’m just hiding.”
“From whom?”
“The world.”
I nodded and kicked off my shoes. “Is there room in your cave?”
Right away she shimmied over and lifted the blanket so I could slip inside. With me lying next to her, she pulled the blanket over our heads.
“You’ve got it good here,” I joked.
Dawn’s cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t look like she’d been crying. Just pissed off.
“What happened, Dawn?”
She sighed. “It was a disaster. The idiot brings his new girlfriend along to the dinner at my father’s place. I could have killed him.”
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” I said.
“That was my worst Thanksgiving ever. Hope yours was better.”