Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I blinked. My head was whirling, and I needed to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit.
“I was furious at him,” she continued, waving her hand in a gesture. “Obviously. I mean, you and James had just broken up. And then your mom, God,” she says, shivering. “I just knew you were in such a dark place. And then for him to do that, to… to sleep with you,” she whispers. “I was horrified.”
“You told him you were mad?”
“Duh!” She shook her head. “I told him he was an idiot and a jerk for taking advantage of you in a moment like that. I mean, sure, I knew he had a crush on you — he had since the day you two met.”
The blood drained from my entire body, and I swayed, planting a hand on one of the wooden tables behind me to steady myself.
“I was screaming at him. I told him you weren’t ready for anything, not after James, and after your mom. I mean, could he have worse timing? And then, you left,” she whispered those words, her bottom lip trembling when I looked at her again. “And you never came back, and I thought it was because of your mom, but then I slowly started realizing it, how you and Tyler never talked, how you never asked about him when I visited, how you never invited him to visit with me.” She rolled her lips together. “And then I figured, well, I was right. She wasn’t ready, she feels embarrassed and like she could never tell me, and never look Tyler in the eyes again, and my brother just ruined everything. Our amazing friendship, up in flames because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
Swallow. Breathe. Don’t faint.
“But the more time that went on… I thought, maybe I was responsible. I feel like… like I’m the reason you two are no longer friends, because I didn’t trust him to figure it out with you, or you to be able to make your own decisions when you were so messed up from your mom leaving. I don’t know, like maybe if you would have been the one to tell me, and then sit Tyler down and tell him that obviously you guys couldn’t… you know… I don’t know, maybe then it would have all been okay.”
My stomach knotted, and I tried to swallow again, but came up dry.
“I’m sorry, Jaz. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I stepped in where I shouldn’t have.”
For the longest time, I stood there — frozen, not blinking, not breathing. Then, suddenly, I did all three things at once, pulling Morgan in for a hug that had her letting out a relieved sigh in my arms.
“It’s okay,” I told her, rubbing her back. “We were young. Kids, you know? It was a weird time for all of us.”
“Such a weird time.”
“And you’re right,” I said. “It was hard for me with my mom. I wasn’t in the best head space.”
She pulled back. “So, you’re not mad at me?”
I shook my head.
“Do you think Tyler and you will ever be friends again?”
I sighed at that, looking out the shop window at Main Street. “I think we’re trying.”
Morgan smiled. “That’s good. Trying is good.”
I nodded with a small smile of my own, and then, just like that, Morgan was off on flower combinations again, and I retreated inside my shell while she talked through her options with the florist.
Tyler told Morgan.
Morgan knew, all this time.
And it was her who told him he was wrong, that he shouldn’t have done what he did, that I wasn’t ready.
Was that why he took it back?
Was that it all along?
Did he tell me it was a mistake, that it didn’t matter, all because Morgan told him I wasn’t ready, that I wasn’t okay, that I wasn’t in the right head space to make decisions?
And he had a crush on me?
Why didn’t he ever tell me that?
How did I never see it?
Is everything I thought about what we were, about what happened between us, a lie?
Question after question assaulted me, not just at the flower shop, but all through the rest of the day, too. I was still wrapped in my thoughts when I had dinner downtown with Morgan and her mom, and when we got home, Tyler was locked in his old bedroom — just like he had been the night before.
I stood outside his door, watching the dim light that cracked through the bottom of it and splayed over my bare feet on the wood floor. I could hear the slight thump of music, though I couldn’t make out what it was, and over it, the distinct sound of typing.
Maybe he’s working, I thought, my hand coming up to rest on the wood of the door. I pressed my head into my hand next, listening, breathing, wondering.