by Sara Shepard
Page 13
“That’s what you tell yourself, Sutton,” Laurel says. Her voice is light enough, but there’s an edge underneath it. I decide to ignore it for now and just concentrate on what’s going right.
But as I’m walking down the stairs, my phone rings. I stare at it in my hand, my heart leaping to my throat.
It’s Thayer.
Laurel, who’s in front of me, spins around and looks at me curiously. “Everything okay?”
“Um . . . ” I stammer, at a loss for a second. “Yeah. I’ll be right with you. ”
I run back up the stairs to my room and shut the door tight, wondering if Laurel’s going to have her ear pressed to the door. Cautiously, I say, “Hello?”
“Sutton, I’m sorry. ” Thayer sounds choked and urgent.
I inhale sharply. “Sorry for what?”
“I miss you so much,” he continues. “I don’t want us to be apart. I should never have told you I needed space. Not talking to you has been torture. ”
My heart catches in my throat. Across the room, the image of Garrett is still on my computer screen. His eyes twinkle at me. His smile makes my heart do a cartwheel. I picture him at home right now, composing one of his sweet, poignant, happy little texts. Texts he sends promptly, not six hours later.
But I feel that same pull for Thayer I always do. “Come home, then,” I challenge.
Thayer pauses. “I . . . can’t. ”
“Why not?” I demand.
He sighs.
“Thayer, at the very least, let me tell Mads where you are,” I demand. “She’s going crazy with worry. Can’t I give her something?”
“Not now. I’ll tell her myself. ”
“Why can’t I tell her now?”
He sighs. “Because I’m somewhere, getting help. And I just need time. ”
“Help for what?”
His words come out in a rush. “I can’t explain. Not right now. But I will, I promise . . . when things are different for me. Please just know that I’m doing the best thing for me, and for us, for the long run. ”
I stare out the window. What does that mean?
“I’m going to come back a changed person. ” Thayer’s voice cracks slightly. “I’m going to be ready to be your boyfriend, for real. ”
A tiny flare of hope blooms in my chest. For real. Two weeks ago, that was all I wanted to hear from him, but now it might be too little, too late. There’s Garrett to think about now.
Still, I can’t keep myself from asking in a small voice, “So, you didn’t run off with Mary?”
“Mary?” The line crackles. “God, no, Sutton. Absolutely not. You’re the only one I want to be with. ” He pauses again, and I hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. “So, what do you say? Will you wait a little bit longer for me? We’ll find a way to be together, soon. ”
My heart pounds. What should I do? Who do I choose? The boy who’s here, who’s cute and stable and sweet? Or the boy who’s sexy and mysterious . . . but also mysteriously absent?
I wait for a beat before bringing the phone back to my ear. And then I clear my throat and say what I never imagined saying before.
“I don’t know, Thayer,” I say. “I just don’t know. ”
“Sutton, what do you—”
“I have to go,” I say quickly, the words clogging my throat. Then I hang up.
And maybe let Thayer go, for real.