Page 65 of Nineteen Letters
I had no answer for that. To be honest, I was confused. I was certain you were going to mention one of the guys from school, or at the very least, someone our age. So, Mr Jefferies kind of threw me.
I couldn’t blame other guys for wanting you. You were beautiful—to me you were the prettiest girl in the school, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who thought that.
“I applied for a job there. Just over the summer … and I got it. He wants me to come in for training tomorrow.”
You scrunched your hands up in front of you as your body bounced with excitement, and hurt quickly replaced my anger. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that you had kept this from me. We used to tell each other everything.
“You what?”
“I got a job. Aren’t you happy for me?”
Happy is not the word I would have used. Hurt, pissed off maybe, but definitely not happy. I slammed my textbook shut and rose from the table in such a hurry, my chair toppled over and fell to the floor.
“Braxton, wait up!” you called as I walked out of the room, heading towards the front door. My head was spinning. “Braxton.” I’d already made it to my yard by the time you caught up to me. “Braxton, stop.” You reached out to me, but I shrugged your hand away.
“Leave me alone, Jemma.”
“What in the hell is your problem? You were fine a few minutes ago.”
I stopped walking and spun around to face you. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied for this job?”
The look on your face was a mixture of hurt and annoyance. “Because I wanted to surprise you. To be honest, I didn’t even think I’d get it.”
“Well, surprise,” I said with sarcasm dripping from my voice.
“Why are you acting like such a jerk?”
I wanted to tell you I was hurt that you didn’t tell me, and upset that we couldn’t spend our weekends together anymore. Those two days were the highlight of my week. I was being selfish, I know, but I had no control over my emotions. So, I just stood there and said nothing.
“Go to hell, Braxton Spencer.”
I don’t know what wounded me most—the sadness I saw on your face or the anger when you pushed against my chest.
It was the first time I’d ever heard you swear. It was also the closest we’d ever come to a fight. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I turned away from you and stormed into my house.
Slamming the front door behind me, I headed straight to my room. I’d felt nothing like this before. I sat on the edge of my bed and buried my face in my trembling hands.
That night I hardly slept. I was laden with guilt. I knew I had acted like a total arsehole. I should have been happy for you, but I was miserable—I couldn’t even fathom what my weekends would be like without you.
When morning finally rolled around, I sat by my bedroom window and watched you leave for your first day on the job. Your dad was driving you, and as you made your way to the car, you turned and stared at my house.
You should have been happy, excited even, but because of me, you looked broken. I knew it was all my fault, yet I still couldn’t find it in me to go outside and wish you luck. It’s stupid, but in that moment, it felt like this was the end of us. Like things were changing, and you were slipping through my fingers. I loved things just the way they were, and I didn’t want to lose you … or what we had.
Hours later—it was around midday, and I was still moping around the house when there was a knock on the front door.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” your mother asked.
I moved aside so she could enter. “I brought you over some lunch. I thought you might be hungry.” She handed me a plate containing a wrapped sandwich as she passed.
“Thank you.”
I had no appetite, but I appreciated the gesture.
“You’re welcome, but that’s not why I’m here.” I took a seat on the sofa, and your mother sat beside me. “I know you’re upset about Jemma getting a job, but I wanted you to know that I held her while she cried herself to sleep lastnight.” I bowed my head. Knowing I caused those tears was hard for me to swallow. Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do. “Do you know why she took this job?”
“No.”
I still couldn’t bring myself to look at her, so my focus remained on the carpet below.
