-4-
When Conall arrived, he texted me. He texted me a lot at first. Then the Block Party came and went. He delayed on booking his ticket. The following weekend came and went. I called him a few times. He rarely answered. When he did, he was curt, or "busy."
All the texts I got in response from him were the same: Busy. Things had come up. So sorry. But he'd come back, one day.
He told me that I should trust him.
Meanwhile, I was going silently nuts, drums and cymbals crashing in my head.
Brad and Kayla got closer and closer. She spent more and more time with him. My eighteenth birthday came and went. The end of school came and went.
Slowly, it began to dawn on me what had happened: I'd been played. I'd been nothing but a game to him.
Better to have loved and lost, they say.
I didn't agree with it. But there was nothing I could do about it.
I was completely, and utterly, alone.
The sick irony of it is that, by leaving me (which I had come to accept is what happened...), Conall finally achieved the one thing that kept him from me in those few days we'd been together:
I was now, finally, an adult.
Because my naivety was gone.
EPILOGUE
I fought it all the way. And in the end, my emotions won. If being an adult was about giving up, I wanted no part of it. I faced my mother and told her I was going to Europe, money or no money, with her approval or without it.
She had no leg to stand on in the end. I think she was even, maybe, a little proud of me for sticking up to her and for going with what I believed.
I texted Conall.
Leora: I'm coming to England.
Conall: Leora, don't. I will be back, I promise. I'm just busy.
Leora: If my glass was there now, would you be reaching for it?
Long pause. No answer.
Leora: Conall?
Conall: It'll be a while before I get back, Leora. I'm sorry. But I WILL come back.
Leora: Please, don't lie to me. If it's over, just tell me.
Long pause.
Conall: Leora. Please don't come. It's for the best.
I called. He didn't pick up.
I called again. He didn't pick up.
I called a third time. He squashed it.
I sank into my bed and clutched my aching stomach.
Then I cried myself to sleep.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi, I'm Rachel Dunning. I work for a big Clothing Store in London. I have three cats and live happily with my husband in a small apartment just outside Notting Hill.
Of course, as with my pseudonym ("Rachel Dunning") none of the above is actually true...
Please click here to subscribe to my blog by email: http://racheldunningauthor.blogspot.com.
I don't blog a lot so I promise you won't get spammed and it's the only place to get info on upcoming releases.
Wanna chat? Email me directly at: [email protected]. I'll do my best to answer all emails.
Thank you for reading. The next two books in this series are already in production. I am also working on another series which may or may not be released before that.
Love,
Rachel
Finding North (Naïve Mistakes Series) Page 15