I don’t understand why he all of a sudden has found me interesting again, but I wish he didn’t.
Bryson found me as I was making my way back to Vienna after talking to Daniel. Apparently and unfortunately, he was looking for me. I attempted to walk away, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Even my silence wasn’t enough to get him to leave me alone.
I relented only because he said he would if I listened. That was a mistake because what he said to me in the text messagesis what he told me in person. Along with unnecessary comments that aren’t worth thinking about.
Though it’s easy to forget about him, not only because he’s that forgettable, but because I can’t stop thinking about Daniel and how dismissive he was towards me.
Next time my brain screams at me no, I’ll listen to her because why did I think he’d care to see me? I can’t believe for a moment I thought he looked relieved.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I roll onto my stomach and sink my face into the duvet, until I can’t breathe.
I’m in the middle of self-loathing when I hear heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs. I twist onto my back, hating the eager way my heart wallops. It’s pathetic, really, my body buzzing knowing that he’s home. Especially after what he said. It wasn’t bad, but it stung nonetheless.
His footsteps grow closer and just when I think I’ll hear his door shut, I hear a knock on mine. “Josie.”
I don’t make a sound or a move. It’s childish to ignore him, but I really don’t want to talk to him right now.
“I know you’re awake.”
Not sure how he would know that, but I still ignore him and stay silent.
“Your light,” he explains as if he could hear my thoughts.
Right, dammit. “Good night.”
“I’m sorry.” I hear a thump against my door followed by a heaved sigh. “I didn’t mean to be short with you. I was…I’m sorry. Can we talk?”
“It’s late. I have a lesson in the morning and I still have to shower.”
“I’ll make it quick. I promise,” he begs.
His mournful voice almost gets me to concede, but I shake my head and sharply say, “Don’t want to talk to you.”
I hear his footsteps recede into his room along with faint shuffling. I figure he’s going to leave me alone until I hear a rustle beneath my door. My attempt to ignore whatever that is is abysmal as the corner of my eye catches onto pale yellow on the floor, making me do a double take.
A Post-it note lays on the floor with black ink on it. As quietly as I can, I grab it and read what it says.
I’m sorry Josefine!
“Daniel,” I grumble but my lips appallingly tilt up. “I told you?—”
Another Post-it note is slipped underneath my door.
I’m not talking. I’m communicating with you. They don’t mean the same thing
“I still don’t?—”
And another.
I’m sorry for being an asshole!
“How many of these do you have?”
Tons! I can do this all night
“I thought it was a long and busy day? Aren’t you tired?” I repeat what he said to me earlier.
Never for you. I’m sorry about earlier. I promise I was on my way to find you, but my parents found me. Then I almost got into it with my dad. I’m sorry for being an asshole.
