Page 44 of I Hear You

“I mean, I remember seeing you and your girlfriend–”

“Jackie is not my girlfriend.”

“Okay, I remember seeing you and–”

He cuts me off again, looking a little defeated.

“Look, Madison, yes. I used to date Jackie, but we’ve been broken up for a while now. She and I will never get back together. Never. She kissed me and I pushed her away. You just clearly didn’t see me push her away.” His voice is getting louder and his body language is more animated and frustrated. He runs a hand down his face, sighs, and comes to sit next to me on the bed.

My body instantly feels warm with him being so close. I shift on the bed and our arms brush. Even with his shirt between our skin, I feel heat where our bodies touch. Anytime I’ve got close to him like this, my senses go into overdrive. I lean into him, just a little. I feel him lean into me just a little too.

After a long moment of silence that seems to go on forever, he continues.

“I’m sorry,” his voice is quiet now, quieter than even his normal speaking voice. I can tell he’s working to control himself and his emotions. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking down at the gray hardwood floors of his bedroom.

“It’s okay, really. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

“No Mads, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

Did Henry just–did he call me Mads? Did he hear Jesse calling me that? He must have. It’s the only logical explanation for why he would call me Mads. For just a second, one tiny second, I think of Ender. I like Henry a lot, even if we haven’t had the smoothest road of interactions. It’s hard to admit, but my heart is still in so many pieces and so many of the pieces are sitting in email drafts.

“I think you better give me a ride home now. I have a ton of stuff I should probably be doing.”

We leave his room and make our way downstairs. Henry’s house is nice, but he’s obviously not rich. Upper middle class maybe, but if his parents are more well off, they don’t flaunt it. I’ve only ever heard him talk about his mom. I wonder where his dad is. As we walk through his house, I notice a few pictures hanging on the wall. All of them of Henry by himself, no family portraits.

When we make it downstairs, Jesse and Taylor are sitting at a breakfast bar in the kitchen eating donuts and drinking milk, talking to the woman from the pictures, Henry's mom. Nothing like coming downstairs from their son's bedroom in last night's clothes to make an impression on a mom. I wonder what Henry told her about me and why I was staying here, in his bedroom, and not wherever everyone else slept.

“Hi there. It’s Madison right?” Henry’s mom greets me with a soft smile.

“Yes Ma'am. Thank you so much for letting me stay here. You have a beautiful home.”

“Oh no problem sweetie, the kids all know they’re welcome here anytime and that includes you now, too.”

She’s sweet and beautiful, but there’s a strange sadness to her. Like she’s grieving or lonely. Henry pulls two donuts out of the box and hands me one. It’s a green tea donut, my favorite. How in the hell does he know it’s my favorite? Most people hate these donuts or have never even heard of them. I look at him curiously, but he’s distracted by something. He walks over to his mom and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m going to give everyone a ride home. Can I use your car?” He asks her.

“Sure hun,” she says and we all start making our way toward the front door. “Oh, and Henderson, can you pick up some more milk on your way home, please?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

Henderson? Is that Henry’s full name? I let the name roll around on my tongue silently. I guess you could get Henry as a nickname from Henderson.

I actually think I might be sick now, and not from drinking too much last night.

You could also get Ender.

Chapter twenty

Henderson

Madisonisquietonthe car ride home. Even when Taylor tries to talk to her, she’s answering inmmhmms,and one-word responses. I’m pretty sure she even tried to sit in the back seat with Taylor, but Jesse beat her to it. She doesn’t seem to bemad; she seems preoccupied, distracted. I wonder if it has anything to do with whoever was texting her at the party last night. Maybe she’s still upset with me, or maybe she’s just hungover. I should stop trying to guess and ask her. But, I’m apparently a chicken.

I drop off Jesse and Taylor at Jesse’s apartment. Madison tries to get out and says she’ll just walk across the street to campus, but I convince her to let me drop her off closer. She doesn’t say a word on the short drive over to campus. Familiarity strikes as I pull up to the curb. It’s so much like the day she arrived in town. Except, everything has changed since then. I remember thinking about my Mads being off somewhere, starting at her college–thinking back on it now makes my brain hurt trying to reconcile the fact that while I was thinking about her, I was actually staring at her. Admiring her beauty, her sexiness, and lusting after her perfect lips.

We’re in my mom’s car this time, and there’s an obnoxiously huge console between us now. I want to rip the entire console out and pull Madison on top of me. Just so I can hold her. I want to run my fingers through her hair and tell her everything is going to be fine. Whatever has her upset, we will work through together. I want to tell her it’s me, Ender, and I’m here for her. She knows me. She trusts me. I understand her, and she can tell me anything. Even if what she needs to say will hurt me. I do none of this because–chicken.

Madison doesn’t even give me a chance to ask if she’s okay. She gives me a curtthanks for the rideand is out of the car and halfway to the building entrance before I can even form a coherent thought. Something is definitely wrong. I briefly consider parking the car and chasing after her, but at this point I think I’ve done enough. I just head home. Maybe I should give her some time, let everything from the library and the party settle more. Then try talking to her again.

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