Page 102 of The Accidental Text

“Why?” I can’t help my frustrated tone. “You know why.”

“Because you’re scared?”

“Yeah, I’m still scared.” I’m also super pissed right now. I think I’d have rather him just say he didn’t feel the same than change the subject so abruptly.

He turns his body to me again. “I don’t get it. I just watched you do a bunch of adventurous things.” He throws out his hand toward the window. “I know how brave you are, Maggie.”

I roll my lips and close my eyes. “None of that was like jumping out of a plane,” I say. “You’ll see when you go.”

He turns his head back toward the window, toward the lit-up dashboard.

“I’m not going with you tomorrow. I can’t. I’m hoping I have one jump left in me, and I have to use that next Saturday with my family.” I’m getting that feeling—the one where tears aren’t far away. I close my eyes, trying to push it all back.

“You realize how silly that all sounds, right?”

“I’m sorry?” The teary feeling is growing. I’m angry, and disappointed, and sad.

He looks at me. “Do you think … maybe it’s not the jump?”

“What?”

He looks away from me again. “I don’t know … maybe it’s more than that. Maybe you’re avoiding something. Avoiding feelings or something.”

I turn my head to the side, away from him. My mind is absolutely swimming with thoughts right now. “Are youseriously asking me if I’m avoiding feelings?” I turn back to him. “Me?” I point to myself, jabbing a finger into my chest.

“I don’t know.” He lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “Maybe?” he says.

I can’t help myself. I let out a sardonic laugh. “This is so rich, coming from you.” I reach for my necklace, remembering again that it’s not there. “How could you even ask that? I’ve been a freaking open book to you since the beginning. I don’t hide my feelings … that’s what you do.”

He doesn’t say anything. So I keep going. “I’ve just followed you around for weeks, Chase. Helping you avoid your feelings.”

“That’s not what that was,” he says.

“That’s exactly what that was. And I didn’t say anything because I thought you just needed time or something.”

He’s silent again. I’ve never seen Chase mad. I’m learning that he’s the quiet type when he’s angry. It’s my least favorite kind of anger from people. I’d much rather them be loud and say what they’re feeling. But that’s par for the course with Chase.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he finally says, his eyes on the dashboard.

I slap my hands on my thighs. “You’re right. How would I know? It’s not like I’ve recently lost my mom too.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“And how could I know? You don’t talk about it.”

He doesn’t say anything again. He just sits there.

“You’re just going to sit there? Tell me what you’re feeling right now, Chase. Anything.”

No words. His eyes stay on the dashboard.

I let out a breath, shaking my head. “You know what? I’m—”I stop myself from saying what I want to say. I’m hurt, and I’m angry, and I’ll say something I’ll regret—I know I will. I may already have. Instead, I go for passive aggressive: “Have fun in London, Chase. I wish you all the best.” I open the door and get out of the car.

“Maggie.”

I hear him say my name, but I don’t care. I slam the door shut and I race up the stairs to my apartment, taking two at a time. I use my keys to get in and open the door to find an empty, dark apartment. It’s probably for the best; I don’t know if I want to talk to Hannah right now.

I don’t bother turning on lights. I just go to my bed, where I fall face-first and cry.