CHAPTER 40
When I got home, I had this long email from Griffin. “Okay, Ms. Sharp and I had a thing. It was fast and stupid. And it’s over, Heaven. Totally over. The only time I’ve even talked to her in the last month was yesterday to make her change your grade—give you what you earned instead of jabbing at you because you’re linked up with me. That was the only time—the only time—that I’ve talked to her in over a month.”
His message ended with the words, “I’m at your house. Your mom just left. Let me in so we can talk, okay?”
Tingles shimmied up my body as I read that and less than a second later, there was knocking at my front door. I snuck to my bedroom window and peeked out. I saw Griffin’s red mustang parked in front of my house. Just seeing it, a tremor ran through me and my heartbeat quickened. But no. I told myself, I can’t compete with the girls (er, well, women) he’s been with—and I don’t want to compete with them.
I sank back into my chair ignoring the persistent knocking, telling myself it was for the best. I so wasn’t the type he went after and seemed to be drawn to. He liked wild, sexy, scandalous women. Women. Why did he even like me?
My heart breaking, I sat frozen. Even when I got a text from Griffin. “Heaven, I know you’re in there. I just saw you at your window. Let me in.”
The doorbell started ringing and he kept knocking, but I kept ignoring—well, trying to ignore, but it was hard. I wanted to race downstairs and have him tell me it was all a big joke. A hoax. He didn’t really get involved in something so scandalous and seedy. It was just a hoax for his “hockey image” or his “bad-boy image” or whatever, but that really he was the sweet, wonderful boy I was beginning to believe he was.
Finally, Griffin sent another text. “Heaven, let me in or I’m going to climb up.”
Ugh. He would.
He even texted it: “You know I will.”
Finally, I slunk downstairs and opened the door for him. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me see the pictures on your phone?—they’re of you and Ms. Sharp?”
He looked at me incredulously, then shook his head slowly.
He set his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced. “What?—you really have to see what’s on my phone?” He stared up at the ceiling, then exhaled slowly. “Okay. Here.” He handed me his phone.
My heart pounding, I took it with shaking hands. Did I really want to see this?
I sucked in my breath, then quickly clicked through his phone. The pictures—they were gross … but innocent. There wasn’t one shot of Ms. Sharp—just random pictures of people doing dumb things. Oh, and lots of pictures of me. Lots and lots. But most were candid shots of kids picking their nose at school, and his friends puking at parties.
Griffin’s eyes looked doubtful. “Does that in any way make you feel better?”
It kind of did. “Ms. Sharp’s not in it.”
“Heaven, Ms. Sharp is psycho.”
“But you had a ‘thing’ with her.” That’s what he called it, and I was pretty sure I knew what their “thing” entailed. Just thinking about it gave me the shudders.
Griffin ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I did. But it was messed up—obviously.”
He stared into my eyes and seemed to try to console me, though his words didn’t help. In the slightest. “That picture—that’s as far as we went that day. I mean, that’s all we did—kiss.”
“Griffin, that’s all I’ve ever done—just kissed. Ever.”
He looked at me incredulously. “I know that. You think I don’t know that?”
His eyebrows rose. “You thought I’ve been going after you like crazy ‘cause I thought you were hot for it and I wanted an easy score?”
“I don’t know what you thought.” I looked away from him, my eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know why you even like me.”
He stared at me a moment. “You don’t know what I think of you?” He shrugged, like it should be obvious. “I think you’re Heaven.”
My heart leapt to my throat at his words.
But instead of saying anything else—without even giving me time to think—he opened the door and left. Left! I watched him go with my heart aching. Then I ran up to my room to cry.
CHAPTER 41
That night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned feeling sick—knowing I had lost Griffin. He didn’t call or text after he left my house. Nothing. It was like my question made him stop and think. Why did he like me?—he decided he didn’t. Not enough to put up with me—the total opposite of the kind of person he was used to dating, someone easy. Apparently, he decided our relationship wasn’t worth the hassle.
The thought broke my heart into a million pieces.
CHAPTER 42
The next morning was Saturday. So, even though I didn’t feel like it, I pulled myself out of bed and crawled out onto my roof, as that’s what I do on Saturday mornings. I crawl out there and watch the sunrise … then go back to bed. Of course.
But today when I crawled out my window I almost had a heart attack and fell off the roof. Because someone was up there—Griffin! My heart slammed against my chest seeing him. Then it beat like a wild jackhammer. Griffin was on my roof! He was casually sitting there like he was waiting for me. Which was Twilight Zone bizarre and made the breath whoosh out of me.
Silently, awe-inspiring Griffin got up. “Don’t worry, I’m not staying,” he murmured.
I was truly speechless. And flabbergasted. And all of that kind of stuff. My heart was exploding from the beautiful unexpected sight—Griffin. On my roof!!
We stood staring at each other—me in trance-induced silence, Griffin just watching me curiously, waiting for me to recover.
I choked out, “How did you know I would be out here?”
His lips twitched with a wan smile, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “You want to know why I like you? It’s all in here.”
He handed me a notebook that said, Griffin Piper’s Anger Management Journal scrawled across the front. I stared at it even as Griffin said, “There’s more.”
He handed me his phone—again. Then smooshed the two together in my hands—as though making the two items into one. “I’m giving you my heart, Heaven… Be gentle.”
He took a step away from me, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. “I know I seem tough to you … but I’m not. Not when it comes to you.”
His heart-stopping words and intense stare made me dizzy and breathless.
My knees as weak as jelly, I swallowed, trying to gather my wits.
Before I could say anything—Oh. My. Gosh!!! Griffin jumped off my roof. Jumped!
I gasped, my heart stopping.
A chill running through me, I staggered, terrified my big, strong Griffin had gone off the deep end … but of course that was dumb. And totally crazy. After all, it was Griffin. He didn’t only not get hurt, he landed on his feet.
True, we weren’t on the second story portion of the roof. But still, whoa. Only, he did it as though he does such things a lot. Maybe that’s what hockey guys do during practices, jump off roofs. He made it look that way.
Griffin stared back at me as he got into his Mustang. He covered his heart with his hand, doing a little beat motion. I guess reminding me I had his heart in my hands. His eyes lingered on mine, then silently he got into his car and drove away.
CHAPTER 43
In the glorious morning sunrise, I sat on the roof, my heart pounding. I held Griffin’s journal tighter to me—hugged it against my chest, feeling it’s worn, ragged pages. Griffin’s private thoughts. The notion made my heart beat faster.
Reverently, tenderly I opened Griffin’s journal. A note slipped out from the first page. “I highlighted the parts about you” was all it said.
I swallowed, a huge lump growing in my throat.
The first passage he highlighted was actually about my hair. He wrote that it looked soft and he wanted to touch it. He wrote that statement about a hundred times, over and over. It had me curious. I ha
d no idea what to make of it, but it made my insides tickle and my heart get all gooey and warm.
He’d scribbled a note in the margin about the repeating passage. The one that stated a thousand times, “Grange’s hair looks soft. I’d like to touch it.” The margin message was recent and not part of his journal. It was directed to me. It said: “But Heaven, I never believed I’d get the chance.”
A jet of warmth shot through me. I closed my eyes, thinking of Griffin writing me that and of him patiently poring over his messy journal, carefully highlighting entries for me. It made me feel special and magically helped me forget (at least for the moment) that there even was a Ms. Sharp.
The journal was full of things about me—very non-angry things. Some of it kind of … um, guy-like and slightly dirty. But most of it was sweet. So sweet I melted as I read. Ally’s wearing purple today … Ally got a haircut … Ally’s smiling … Ally’s hands are shaking as she writes right now because she just caught me staring at her from across the library.
Some parts made me squirm and my cheeks burn:
I’m just sitting here watching Ally scribble, scribble, scribble. It’s making me think about when she left her notebook on the table that time. I was just going to close it up—only I saw my name written in it. I squinted at it—knowing I shouldn’t look. And I didn’t—mostly. But it had my name in it! ... Hmm. Little Ally Grange. I wanted to laugh about it—only I couldn’t. It did something funny to the pit of my stomach. But it said she could never fall for a guy like me. Only it kind of seemed she did. Fall for a guy like me, I mean—me. For at least a second.
Mmmmmm, an innocent church girl…. No I won’t go there.
There were lots of parts like that. But there were also parts that made my eyes fill with tears:
Last night my dad tried to break into our house. I had to kick him out before he started whaling on Mom again. But on a happy note—Grange is wearing purple. She looks goood in purple.
I wiped my eyes and scanned for another highlighted passage.
Grange keeps sneaking bites of a candy bar. Not supposed to eat in the library. First thing I’ve ever seen her do wrong … and I’ve been watching. The girl is kind of a saint. Or an angel. Funny she had that thing for me. Hmmmm. Okay, now I’m going to have to get me some Brittany after school. Got to get my mind off temptation—the pure, innocent, church angel. I. Will. Not. Go. There. But holy smokes, she’s smiling right now. Man, I like her smile. Okay, Brittany—come on stupid brain, think about wild, dirty Brittany … not angels.
I quickly read another one from a few weeks later:
Ally got her haircut. She keeps running her hands through it. Maaaan.
Saw her yesterday at the mall. She was doing some sort of fundraiser thing for needy kids. I watched her talk with some homeless looking guy. Man, I’m becoming a stalker. But I put money in the jar when she wasn’t looking. I’m going soft.
The passages went on and on, warming my heart.. When I got to the end of the journal there was another recent note written directly to me. It was about his phone.
Okay, about the photos on my phone—I have a “secret stash.” It’s where I keep all the racy stuff—the stuff I don’t want anyone else to see.
I gave a little groan, clutching my stomach.
Nah, I’m just kidding about the racy stuff—but it is my “secret stash” and it’s just for my eyes. It’s pictures for when I need to chill. (The pictures are all of you, by the way. You help me not punch people.) The thing is: you have to have a password to see the pictures—a “code.” You ready for the super secret code? It’s H-E-A-V-E-N.
My heart beating at a furious pace, I quickly typed in the “code.”
The pictures were all of me doing things—like decorating the gym for dances and painting the sets for the school play—things like that. Things I had no idea he knew about. Like, the children’s fair I helped organize to help the needy kids in our area.
There were pictures of me with my head bent over my journal in the school library and pictures of me laughing with my friends, and pictures of me leaving Griffin cookies in his locker and me leaving cupcakes in his locker and me leaving poems in locker—okay, there were a lot of pictures of me leaving things in his locker.
There were tons of pictures—all of me—the whole “stash.” I had no idea he had taken any of them. But not one of them was me picking my nose or puking at a party. I was just being … me.
The next picture I came to made my heart stop. It was a picture of me at church. Seeing it, the breath whooshed out of me. Griffin had gone to my church?!
I stared down at the message Griffin wrote to go with the photo: Okay, don’t freak out about this one. I just went to your church to see what it was about, since you were so into it. It was … interesting. I had a good feeling there—and believe me, at that time, I was in serious need of a good feeling. (That’s where I saw you in the high heels, by the way.)
The next picture made me tilt my head, then squeeze my eyes shut. It was me up on my roof watching a sunrise. Griffin had written a note to go with that photo too: I took this driving home from a party one night/morning. You looked like you were up there praying—and it was so different from my life and what I’d been doing.
The morning sun was just starting to peek out and it was all shining right on you, Heaven. You looked like an angel and I wanted to make you mine—only I didn’t think I could ‘cause you were interested in girls like Poser. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m nothing like Poser.
There was one last message from Griffin after the photos: “Okay? That’s why I like you, Heaven—because you’re you.”
That was an awesome answer! The best answer in the entire history of answers. And actually, it was probably the only one that could make me feel okay. But I felt … lifted.
I was floating on a cloud as I reached for my phone. But my heart kind of sank a little when I called Griffin’s house and it went straight to voice mail … about a hundred times.
Griffin never called me back.
By Sunday, my stomach was in knots. Why wouldn’t he call me back? Did I blow it with him? It seemed I did.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, my heart was aching. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t even breathe normal. I was terrified to see Griffin at school. Terrified he met someone Saturday night after leaving me—me who rebuffed him when he’d been so sweet and wonderful and perfect. Well … almost perfect—he had had a strange “thing” with the world’s most inappropriate teacher. (That was so teen TV drama that it still had my head spinning.)
As soon as I got to school I saw Griffin talking with a group of his hockey friends. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he looked toward me, then did a double-take. My knees went weak.
Griffin raised his eyebrows and left his friend Jake when the guy was obviously in the middle of some apparently juicy story. His friends were all listening to him with huge smiles and Griffin had been smiling too—until he saw me. He left the group without a word and sauntered over to me.
“You didn’t call me back,” I choked out, barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head, looking confused. “I just got home. I spent the weekend camping with my dad. Sorry, it was a spur of the moment thing—me going with him. He’s trying hard to clean up, so I humor him when I can. Do the father-son stuff—even when it takes me into the wilderness—and away from you … and my phone.”
I handed his phone back to him and he winced. “Look, Ally, I was a screw up. I’m willing to admit that. But I’m trying to change for you. Be different—for you.”
“I don’t want you to be different. I like you Griffin. So much!” I bit my lip. “I just don’t like that you were with Ms. Sharp.”
He stayed quiet, letting me rant, so I did. “Ms. Sharp! That’s so gross!”
Griffin rubbed his mouth, covering a smirk. “Gross? … Bad, yeah. Wrong, definitely. But gross?” He grinned, teasing me. “Okay, yeah, it was disgusting.” He made a
mock grimace. “Yuck.”
I was going to be sick. “She was your teacher.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He truly sounded contrite—like he knew it crushed me. He angled his head, trying to peek into my eyes. “But Heaven, are we okay?”
I looked away from him. “I guess so.”
He jutted his chin. “Let me see your eyes.”
I blinked at him. “Why do you do that?—always stop and stare into my eyes?”
His lips twitched. “Because it lets me know what you’re feeling. What comes out of your mouth doesn’t always say it—but it’s always in your eyes.”
His gaze seemed convinced. Still he asked again, “Are we good?”
I nodded, completely awed by my magnificent boyfriend and the fact he was mine.
His eyes shined eagerly, getting my heart pounding as he leaned his forehead against mine. He grinned, “Then let’s go back to the janitor’s closet.”
******
Note: We hope you enjoyed the story. There is now more to their story all bundled up in the book, “Always You.” The book includes three novels about Ally and Griffin. They are: Her Kiss (which is Griffin’s version of His Kiss); plus the novels—Griffin and Griffin #2—all in one book.
Note: keep reading. Next in this book is a romantic short story called: Louder Than Words. (Note: now there is a full-length novel based off the short story. The novel can be found as a bonus story in the book, “The Hockey Player’s Heart” which also includes a novel about the Christian Hockey Team.
And now …
Louder Than Words:
“Ack!” I woke in a panic, springing up from the bed, waving my arms around like a maniac. Somehow I thought I was swatting at a bee—an enormous fuzzy one buzzing around my lips.
But …
The Heartbreaker Next Door (The Hockey Team Book 1) Page 22