I wish I could talk to Garret about it, but Frank said I never should’ve even told Garret about the letter. And after that mysterious call, I’m starting to think Frank was right. Whoever called me about that letter wants the truth buried. And everyone who knows the truth to be buried along with it.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Harper and Igo out for breakfast and then she insists I go shopping with her which takes forever because she has to try on a million things. In the afternoon we go to a movie and then eat dinner in the dining hall. We normally don’t spend that much time together but she’s trying to keep me busy so I don’t sit in my room thinking about Garret.
I feel like the talk Harper and I had this morning has brought us closer. It’s funny how just a short conversation can change things between people. I’m finally realizing that Harper is a good friend, and she would be an even better friend if I let her. But it’s hard for me to do that. Opening up to her about Garret was a huge step for me.
When we get back to campus, I notice that Garret’s car isn’t in the parking lot. It wasn’t there when we left either. He must be back home, which is probably where he’ll be living from now on.
“Do you want to watch TV?” Harper is being so sweet. She has been all day, even though I know that she, too, is feeling depressed after being dumped last night. But instead of talking about that, she’s been trying to make me feel better. Doing all she can to get my mind off Garret.
“I think I’ll pass on TV tonight. It’s getting late. I should catch up on some reading.” We’re in the hall now in front of her door.
“Are you sure? We could go rent a movie.”
“I know you’re trying to help, Harper, and I appreciate it. This day has been great. Really. It was good to get out. But I have a ton of stuff to catch up on.”
“Okay. Well, goodnight.” She gives me a hug. “Call me if you want to talk. Or just come down to my room.”
“I will.” I start to leave, then stop. “Hey, Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“That guy, Cole, didn’t deserve you. You deserve someone way better.”
She smiles. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I go back to my room and get out the book I’m supposed to read for English. Sitting next to it is my English notebook, which I haven’t written in for weeks. And Garret and I haven’t been exchanging them like we’re supposed to. I wonder if he’ll still be my partner in English or if his dad will make him find someone new.
An hour goes by and I’ve read the same paragraph in my book at least 20 times. I can’t concentrate. Between the phone and that letter, there are too many distractions in my room that keep me from focusing on homework.
After another hour of attempted reading, I give up and go to bed. I look up at the sparkly blue lights that Garret gave me, noticing the soft glow they add to the room. They only make me miss him more.
I hate that I miss him this much. I promised myself I would never get this attached to someone. And I kept that promise until I met Garret. Now I know why I made the promise in the first place. Getting that attached to people only makes it hurt that much more when they leave. And they always leave.
I lie there unable to sleep, gazing up at my lights. After a while, I glance at the clock. 2 a.m. Great. I have class in 6 hours. I need at least 7 hours of sleep just to function. I toss and turn, trying to find a more comfortable position. If Garret were here in bed with me I’d be able to sleep. That’s another thing we’d never do again. Sleepovers in his room. We just had one last night. And now he’s gone. How can everything change so much in just 24 hours?
As I’m thinking about that, the phone rings. The sound of it makes me practically jump out of my skin. It’s so loud in the silent room. It rings again. I get out of bed and stare at it as if doing so will make it stop. It doesn’t.
Who the hell calls at 2 a.m.? The phone keeps ringing. I swear it sounds ten times louder at night than during the day. Maybe 100 times louder. It’s so damn loud. I’m surprised people aren’t pounding on my door telling me to make it stop.
It continues to ring but there’s no way I’m answering it after what happened earlier. What if it’s that creepy guy again? Maybe he’s calling to scare the shit out of me because I didn’t burn that letter. If so, it’s working. I’m practically shaking. The phone keeps ringing. How many freaking times is it going to ring? It has to stop eventually. It finally does.
Panic hits me as I consider the fact that it could have been Ryan calling. Frank could be sick. He could be in the hospital again. Or worse. Shit! I should’ve answered it. I consider calling Ryan but if it wasn’t him calling, then overprotective Ryan would worry to death about whoever actually was calling me at such a late hour and I’d never hear the end of it.
I wait for the phone to ring again because if itwasRyan, he’d call back. But the phone remains quiet so I get back in bed, pulling the covers over my head. I finally fall asleep a couple hours later.
The next few days I feel as dark and gray as the weather outside. It’s early November, but it feels more like winter than fall. At least in Connecticut it does.
I’ve been trying to move on and pretend that last Sunday morning never happened, but it’s all I can think about. Garret doesn’t show up to English class on Tuesday, which makes me wonder if his dad will make him go to a different school just to get away from me. Or like I told Harper, maybe his dad will take my scholarship away and I’ll have to go back to Iowa. That’s actually the more likely scenario.
Every night I continue to get the calls. It’s always after midnight and it always freaks me out. I called Ryan on Monday and he said Frank was doing great, so I know it’s not him calling. That means it has to be that guy who threatened me. The guy is probably watching me. It scares me to think that I’m being watched but I don’t know what to do about it.
It’s Thursday night and I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept all week because of those stupid phone calls. My lack of sleep is starting to affect my school work. Earlier today I almost completely forgot about my English quiz. Luckily Harper reminded me about it at breakfast, giving me a little time to study.
Like clockwork, around 2 a.m. the phone rings. I suddenly realize I could just unplug it from the wall. I’m such an idiot sometimes. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? I get out of bed and go over to the ringing phone. Just as I’m ready to pull the cord from the wall, I get this sudden urge to answer it. I have no idea why. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s due to my lack of sleep the past few days. I’m delirious now.
I drop the cord and stand there, staring at the ringing phone. Then I answer it, my heart beating like crazy.