“No. I’m saying, we can still hang out if you’re on your period. I grew up with a sister. I understand what it means.”
“We can’t hook up, though. That’s sort of what we do,” she mumbled and avoided my stare while she got off me. My muscles tightened again and my stress came back. “I should go anyway. I’m so happy for your family, Gideon.”
She didn’t wait before leaving the room and it took me ten seconds to get my wits about me.What did I do?“Fiona! Wait.”
I jogged up the stairs, wincing at the top step since I took it a little too fast. “What the fuck just happened?”
“N-nothing. Nothing happened. I need to go.” She was already heading toward the front door and I ran up to it, putting my hand on it to prevent her from opening it.
“Look at me,” I commanded.
She slowly turned her head but masked her face. It was unreadable. “What, Gideon?”
“Did I do something wrong? I’m at a loss right now, Fiona. We had a serious conversation and I kissed you. Now you’re leaving.”
“That’s the thing, we aren’t supposed to do serious conversations.” She crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I squeezed the back of my neck, anger flowing through me. Why was she too fucking stubborn in refusing to admit there was something more…some connection we shared? “Fine. Run away. At least let me give you your Christmas present.”
“Present?” she squeaked and jumped away from me. “You…got me something?”
“Foolishly, yeah. Fuck.” I groaned into my fist and grabbed the bag I’d kept on the foyer table for the past week. I felt like a goddamn idiot and I threw it at her. I didn’t wait to see what she did. I marched down the hall and slammed the door to my office, but not without shouting at her one last time, “Merry fucking Christmas, Fiona.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fiona
Michelle had checked on me twice already—asking me if I needed a stiff drink, a sedative or a slap in the face. I appreciated her effort, but I shook her off. I had to deal with my own shit alone.Fucking Gideon.
His giftsat on the kitchen table, remaining unopened in the white tissue paper I tore apart. That wasn’t true, I’d touched it countless times that first time. But I couldn’t bring myself to actually open the journal.What if he wrote in it?
“Gah!” I hit the table and paced the kitchen. This was why I always had jobs on top of school. I needed constant distractions or I got lost in my thoughts. I’d aced my finals weeks ago and had no homework to occupy my brain power. He’d gotten me a goddamn journal. A journal to write in when I’d finished the other one. It was the most thoughtful gift I had ever received in my entire life and I hated it.
No, I loved it.
But I hated how it made me feel. I hadn’t talked to him in two days and my conflicting thoughts confused the hell out of me. I reread the card for the umpteenth time and rubbed my temples.
Fiona,
I can’t imagine all the things he’s missed. When you run out of room in your other journal, use this one.
Gideon
So simple. I pinched the bridge of my nose and counted to three. Then I picked up the journal. The smooth brown leather felt like butter—I dragged my fingers over the material and breathed in the scent. It reminded me of shoe stores and baseball gloves. The hard journal fell open and creamy the white pages were in front of me. The pages were thick enough to write with my favorite heavy pen and not bleed through. It was the best journal I had owned and I wanted to write in it right then.
My favorite ink pen was at the bottom of my backpack and I found it within seconds. My heart raced with a need to write, and I began with Gideon. I wrote about coaching the baseball team, how hard it was without Justin this year, especially with the decision about joining TTL in the air, but also how the players reminded me of him every day. I wrote about my conflicting feelings about life and the joys it was supposed to bring. Sadness had a place in life, and I understood it. But happiness was scary. Because if I was happy, it could just get taken away.
The fear. I stopped writing and clutched the pen. The fear of what? Not being happy? I leaned back into the chair, not far enough to tip over, but so far it wiggled and my heart lurched in my throat. I yelped and Michelle ran out of her room.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I almost fell. I stopped it, though.”
“Girl, you’re acting nuts. I don’t know if you’re intoHarry Potterand shit, but that journal is not a goddamn horcrux.”
Her joke was not lost on me and I laughed. We shared a long belly-laugh and she joined me at the table with nothing but concern on her face. “I am acting nuts. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. If you need to talk, I’m here.”
