The whole drive home, I keep having to talk myself out of turning the car around, asking Taylor for their room number and banging on Madison's door. Telling her everything and begging her forgiveness for not telling her sooner. I keep driving though because I’m selfish, and right now, apologizing for what happened at the party seems easier than apologizing for lying to her since the day she arrived in town.
I finally make it home after stopping to get milk for Mom. I find her and Emmett sitting together at the kitchen bar. They abruptly stop talking when I walk in. I get the weirdest feeling that I interrupted their conversation.
“Don’t stop talking on my account,” I joke.
No one laughs. What is going on?
“I, uh, picked up the milk,” I say, lifting the gallon of milk for show before putting it in the fridge.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Mom says. “I think I’m gonna go lie down and read for a bit. Enjoy my day off.”
She gets up and starts heading toward her room. Leaving Emmett and I alone.
“You come to see me or my mom?” I ask Emmett, throwing in a half-hearted laugh, trying to ease the tension.
“You, of course, dumbass. You wanna go play some Xbox?”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
We head down to the basement. I’m not fully convinced the weird vibes I felt when I came into the kitchen are just in my head. Then again, I’ve got so much on my mind and I’m so damn paranoid about Madison and what she’s thinking. My intuition probably can’t be trusted right now. I flop down onto the couch while Emmett turns on the console and grabs the controller, starting up Madden.
I pull out my phone while the game is loading, and re-read the email I got from Mads last night. She probably doesn’t even remember she sent it. If I respond, will it dig the hole I’m already in deeper? If I don’t respond, will she assume Ender moved on finally? When I click into my sent folder, I don’t have to scroll far to find the email I sent the night I came home to find my dad was a bigger piece of shit than I ever expected. It’s the same email I’d found in my car that she printed. The one she’s clearly read and by the state of the paper–torn and creased–she’s read it a lot more than once.
From: [email protected]
Date: August 8 11:27:43
Subject: Confession
Confession:
I’m done pretending. I’m done acting like I haven’t wanted to tell you this for years now. This is going to change everything and I am fucking scared. I am scared for so many reasons right now, most of which may scare you. But here goes anyway…
You are the most incredible person I have ever known. I have never even seen your face but I know you’re beautiful because your soul and your heart take my breath away with every email I read. Your poems set my skin on fire, your banter keeps a huge goofy grin on my face for days at a time.
I have never, in my life, felt more connected or more drawn to someone. I have never wanted to be with someone more than I want to be with you Mads.
I love you, I have loved you for so long it hurts. I want to be together and I really hope you feel the same. I am praying (to who I’m not sure) that you feel even an ounce of what I feel for you.
I will come to you, or you can come to me, I don’t care. I will do whatever it takes to get the chance to touch you, feel you, hug you, hear your laughter — because thoughts of you have completely consumed me. Please say you will… say you hear me and I’ll know this isn’t one sided.
Yours,
Ender
As I read this email back now, after spending time with her, after kissing her–all of those feelings I had, ring true even louder. They’re deafening how true they are, like standing inside a bell tower while it rings. The sounds reverberating all around you except the sounds are my feelings and I’m stuck in my own mind. I knew even when I wrote this letter, Madison was beautiful. What I wasn’t prepared for was how incredibly sexy she can be. The way she bites her lip or the way she lets all of her emotions show when she’s sad or angry. Everything about her turns me on the moment I’m in her presence.
“You’ve had your nose in your phone for a while. You reading porn?” Emmett asks.
“No, Emmett. I am not reading porn,” I sneer.
“Okay, okay. Seriously, are you okay, man? What’s going on?”
I make a snap decision and spend the next twenty minutes telling Emmett everything. I tell him about Ender and Mads emailing for years, about the kiss in the library, the party, everything.
Emmett spends the next five minutes laughing, and I want to choke him.