Chapter 37

For the rest of the week, Graham didn’t try to corral me again. He didn’t try to talk to me. He didn’t beg me to give him a chance to explain.

However, I did find each day a white-chocolate bar with a small note in my locker or bag. I didn’t know how Graham managed to get them in my locker without my combination, or into my bag without my noticing. But I found a bar by the end of the day, whether I was stowing my books or at home when I unpacked my bag.

On Monday, the message was—~I miss you. I miss holding you. I miss kissing you.~

On Tuesday—~I miss talking to you. You’re the last person I want to talk to before going to bed.~

On Wednesday—~You looked beautiful yesterday. You look beautiful today. You’re always so beautiful.~

On Thursday—~I miss your laugh. It lights up my entire world.~

On Friday I got three bars. Apparently for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. However, there was one message. It was longer than usual.

~I wished this weekend was different. I wish we could spend it together, holed up in my place. We could watch a movie. Any movie that you wanted. It could be that ~Pride and Prejudice~ marathon you liked. Or it could be another action movie. We would completely ignore the movie five minutes in because I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing you. I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from touching and tasting you. And I would feel like the luckiest guy in the world because I had you in my arms.~

I was a sucker for punishment because I read every single one of his messages. Though I was furious at his messages, a small part of me wished this entire situation was different.

The small part of me wanted his messages to be sincere, instead of another way to pull me back to his claws. The small part of me longed to have a guy crazy about me. The small part of me wanted a guy that made me feel like St. Claire did before I found out about his real intentions. Alive, special, cherished.

I wanted to stomp all over that small part of me for being so naive and delusional.

I gave the white chocolate to some of the people St. Claire had bullied before. It made me feel a bit better.

And the messages? I buried them in my bedroom with the other note he left in the bag. I should throw them away. I should burn them. Yet when I tried, my body froze. I figured I would eventually get rid of them, once I had moved on.

***

On Sunday, I was working casually, moving boxes up and down around the community center. Thanksgiving was around the corner—a month away—and everything had to be ready so we could focus on Christmas.

It was exhausting to carry boxes when I felt a pinch in my chest all the time. When I moved a box labeled ~large size—exercise,~ I wanted to burn it. It was one of the many boxes of donated clothes from the football team. They had come from filthy hands, and I wished I could get rid of them.

I kind of understood why St. Claire donated the clothes. He needed to win me over and this was an easy way. However, I couldn’t understand why he made all the football players do it. Maybe he figured a bigger effort would’ve gotten him more results? By coming up with more donations, he would make me fall quicker.

My hands fisted and I pressed my lips together as I moved the box forcefully. As much as I had the urge to burn it, it was better given to the ones who needed those clothes the most.

I scowled, trying to pinpoint if I could have figured out his intentions before, anything that told me his real plan and his intention of using me.

I came up with nothing.

I wouldn’t have figured it out if Jacob hadn’t confessed it. I was too blinded by Graham and the beautiful picture he painted.

A picture in which he had eyes for me only. He was willing to do anything to make me happy, even though he pushed my limits from time to time. He made me question a few things, but I felt untouchable around him. Like when I was with him, he could protect me, and nothing could hurt me.

I fell for the lie, and Graham was an expert liar.

I knew why I fell for the lie, though—it was my deepest desire. Graham made me feel good about myself, despite all my flaws. He saw my scars and fears and dreams and pretended to accept every single one of them.

He did everything to make me fall in love with him.

It was absurd. I fell in love with an illusion.

Now, I was afraid I was going to compare every relationship I had from now on to how Graham made me feel.

My eyes prickled and I shut them. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over him anymore.

I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and continued with my tasks. I piled more boxes in silence, and by the time I was done, I exited the room and collided with Jacob.

“Hey!” His face brightened.

“Hi,” I replied, forcing a smile on my face. Even though Jacob came clean about the breakup and told me he still cared about me, it appeared he didn’t want us to get back together.

I knew I didn’t. Whenever I thought about it, I compared how it felt to be with Jacob and how it felt to be with Graham. It wasn’t fair. I was comparing a lie to reality, yet I didn’t want to settle for anything less than devotion.

What I hoped to regain was our friendship. Jacob was an extremely nice and loyal friend.

“You look happy,” I commented, studying his face.

“This week we got a crazy donation from the football team,” he explained. “It was a very nice surprise.”

“The football team?” I frowned, confused.

“Yes.” His grin widened. “I’m so happy they are finally thinking about returning to the community. Helping people.”

I blinked.

“Anyway, I have to go,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “See you around?”

“Sure.”

I watched him leave, but his words replayed in my head. I didn’t believe the donation came from a sudden decision to return to society. I knew Graham was behind it. I wondered how long he was going to continue this nice-guy act until he gave up. He said he wouldn’t, but no genuine intention could last for long.