Page 13 of Choose You

I should have pushed her off me and ran, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare. Her angry glare and complete lack of fear held me captive. My eyes shiftedto her mouth, and she bit down on her bottom lip. I didn’t know what was going on with my body, but I really liked that. This girl was ready to fight, and all I could think about was kissing her.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t punch you for trying to steal my horse?”

I didn’t answer her because I couldn’t speak. She was beautiful, but seeing her up close like this was an entirely different experience. Her blond hair glowed like a halo with the afternoon sun shining through the trees, and her anger heightened the passion burning in her eyes. As our eyes locked, and her expression shifted. I don’t know much about girls, but my gut told me this shift was a good thing.

Apparently deciding not to hit me, she dropped her fist and let go of my shirt before she stood. She dusted off her jeans and grabbed the reins to her horse.

“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked.

“No.” My voice croaked. I cleared my throat and stood up. My back ached from the second fall, but I’d be fine. Nothing was broken, at least.

“I’ve seen you around at school. You’re the new kid staying with Leo and Rosie, right?”

“Yeah.” I dusted off my clothes and pulled a few crumbly leaves out of my hair.

She crossed her arms over her chest like she was annoyed. “You got a name?”

“Matt. And you?” I never spoke much to begin with, but words were more challenging than usual around this girl.

“I’m Jessica, but everyone calls me Jess.”

We stared at each other for an uncomfortable minute. I didn’t know what else to say. I should tell her I was sorry for trying to steal her horse, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. So I just stood there like an idiot.

“I was skipping rocks into the creek. I like to sit on that big rock back there. You’re welcome to join me if you want.” She turned around and headed back. Now I was even more confused. No one ever invited me to do things with them. But all thoughts of going out and causing trouble left me, and all I wanted to do was sit with Jessica. I liked her, and I wanted to be her friend. I never wanted to be anyone’s friend before.

I followed her back to the creek, and she schooled me onskipping rocks.

Jessica saved me that day.

I never told her that, but it’s true. Instead of going out and causing trouble—which I still did plenty of over the next few years—I stayed with her by that creek for hours. We talked about everything. I told her about my childhood—years in and out of foster care, how my mom was currently hospitalized from her most recent drug overdose, and that I didn’t know who my dad was. I never told anyone about those things, but I told Jessica.

For the first time in my life, I’d made a friend. And later in life, I hurt that friend. Deeply. That’s something I don’t ever expect her to forgive me for, and I’m certain I won’t ever forgive myself for doing it.

I step into a clearing and the creek comes into view. My breath catches in my throat when I see Jessica sitting right where I expected to find her. The image of her with her knees pulled to her chest, and her long blond hair blowing around her face from the gentle breeze is a permanent fixture in my brain. It’s good to see her back in this spot.

“I know you’re there,” she says. I’m still a good fifty feet away from her, but I’m sure she heard my footsteps.

I walk closer to her, but stay on the bank of the creek. As much as I’d love to sit next to her like we did as kids, I don’t. “Just came to talk, Jess.”

She lets out a deep sigh and wipes her face before she stands. When she turns her gaze at me, I see the same intense and passionate glare she’d given me that first day I’d met her. She’s angry—at me, nonetheless—and I want her more than ever.

She marches toward me with a look so angry and determined I’m sure she’s going to hit me. I wouldn’t stop her if she did. I deserve it. But she stops about a foot away, and all the air in my lungs vanishes. My chest feels tight, and my heart is pounding faster than the ripples of water crashing over the rocks in the creek beside us.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about.” Her words sound small and weak despite her rigid stance and stern expression.

I followed her out here to talk, and now I’m at a loss of words.Because all I can think about is touching her. Like a fucking idiot, that’s what I do. I lift my hand, and gently brush my fingertips down her arm because I don’t know how to be this close to her and not touch her. In some fucked up reality in my head, this is okay because she’s still mine. She will always be mine.

She sucks in a breath, and for a second, she relaxes against my touch. That one second fills me with so much hope. She still responds to my touch the same way I'm responding to her. She still wants me, even though I’ve hurt her, and that notion makes my heart soar.

But that second ends. Her posture stiffens, and her expression turns hard again.

“I can’t do this, Matt.” She starts to walk past me, and I reach for her. Our hands glide together like they’re made to fit. They belong together.

I clear my throat and refocus my brain on the situation at hand. “I figured you expected on staying in the house. You’re not going to find a place to stay in town, and you can’t possibly expect me to uproot Emmie on a moment's notice. You can stay in your old room. Or I can make up the guest room for you where you’ll have more privacy.”

She stares at our hands. Her eyes are so focused, I’m not sure she heard me. When she looks up at me, tears well up in her eyes again. “I can’t stay with you. You broke my heart into a million pieces, and I’ve never been able to put it back together again.”

Her hand slips out of mine, and she heads back toward the house. I’m left by the creek with so many feelings and emotions swirling around in my mind, and I don’t know which one to address first.

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