After the disastrous date from two nights ago, I’ve been refusing to even talk to anyone. Clay has been the pushy older brother trying to get me to talk to him about what he saw at the club. Grace is the epitome of her name, texting me only once to tell me she is here when I want to talk. Peyton has been the hardest to ignore since we share a room, but she’s been mysteriously staying the night somewhere else since I reamed her ass for sending Grace and Clay to my date.
Then there’s Kellan. He has texted three times since our date.
The night of, he asked me to let him know I made it safely home. I did text him back out of fear he would show up. He didn’t say anything after that until the next morning. He wished me a good morning and said he would be here when I wanted to talk.
This morning’s text was the same.
Only, I have to see him today because he is the TA in my class. I wish his professor had told him that he couldn’t date a student in a class he TAs. That would have saved me the tears and sorrow.
It sounds ridiculous when we have only been dating a couple of weeks, but I miss him. I didn’t realize what all the little text conversations we had were doing to me. It made me crave his attention. Now that I don’t have it, I feel empty.
Walking up to the steps of the building, I bristle when I see Kellan standing there with a single marigold and a box of my favorite chocolates.
“You can’t buy me with gifts, Kellan.” I glare at him before walking into the building.
He follows behind me. “I know, but I didn’t want to show up empty-handed. Clay and Grace said you would like these. I wish I had time to learn that for myself, but I was desperate.”
He talked to my brother and Grace? Why would he even bother? Probably to prove to them he was over them for real this time. The truth is the opposite of love isn’t hate, as many people believe. No, the opposite of love is indifference. It’s not caring what that person does anymore. They don’t even register in your brain.
The effort he seems to be putting into showing them how okay he is shows he’s not over it. I wish he was, though.
“Keep them. I don’t want them.”
He stops me before I enter the class.
“Five minutes. I don’t deserve it, but please give me five minutes of your time to at least apologize.”
He looks so sincere. I want to say yes, but I find myself shaking my head.
He nods once, looking like a dejected puppy. “Like you said. You won’t know if you don’t ask. Even if the rejection stings. Please take these. I have no idea what to do with them otherwise. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”
He holds out the flower and candies. I take them. Then I go into class, ready to ignore him for the entirety of it.
Only it doesn’t work.
While the teacher drones on and on about shit I really need to pay attention to, I find my gaze flitting back to Kellan in the corner as he grades our first homework assignment.
I really do want to hear him out. I should talk to him, right? I hate that I am even questioning myself right now.
He picks up the next paper, his finger caressing the top of the page where the name usually is. He looks up, finding me already looking at him. I can see the way his chest moves as he sighs. He gives me a sad smile before setting the paper aside. Then he continues his work.
It’s that sad smile that sticks in my head. When the professor finally lets us out of class, I find myself walking to the front to stand in front of where Kellan is putting his stuff away.
“Five minutes and not a second longer,” I tell him.
He looks up at me, surprised. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”
The problem is I already do. All the wall building I did around my heart the past two days feels flimsy.
I want to believe in whatever he says. I just don’t know if I can trust him.
Maybe we were a mistake. Going into this knowing his past as intimately as I did, with being close friends with Grace and seeing what she experienced last year, made me biased against him.
I never really gave him a true shot if I’m being honest. In the back of my mind, I have been holding on to that knowledge and letting it tint everything he has shown me. It’s like rose-colored glasses, except these only show you the shitty parts of things.
The paranoia. The questioning every single thing he does and says.
I feel like we are doomed.
