Falling for the Ghost of You(58)

He stares down at his hands uncomfortably. "Well, kinda, actually. It was pretty stressful dating you. Every time we went out, I felt like I had to kick some guy's ass who was staring at you. I was just waiting for you to realize you were way out of my league."

What a bunch of crap. Did he forget the part where he cheated on me? Ugh.

"Okay," I say to him, opening my book up again. "Thanks."

Matt just sits there, staring dreamily at my chest. I have to clear my throat loudly. I tell him that it looks like Rachel—who is staring at us anxiously from her desk—wants to talk to him. He flushes and hastily excuses himself.

That was weird. I start an imaginary conversation with Zane in my head about the experience. We both decide Matt is an ass.

"Hey, Violet."

The deep voice startles me out of my daydream. I look up into a pair of twinkling hazel eyes.

"Oh, uh, hi, Mr. Jensen," I stutter, surprised to be singled out.

He winks at me before making his way to the front of the room to call attendance.

Okay, that was weird. I didn't even think he knew my name. Maybe he heard the wild frat party rumor, too. Oh, well.

If it persists, I think I'll start spreading the word that I'm donating a kidney to a long lost sister.



The rest of November officially sucks. I've got four different projects due around the same time. Why do teachers do that? Do they want to see us fail? Our English project is worth half our grade and Lauren and I can't agree how to tie in the six books we've been assigned to cover. She's being so difficult lately, I can hardly get a hold of her. She must be tutoring half the school, with how often she's gone.

Work is a zoo. We get three new high needs residents, including a wheelchair bound woman named Marge—while sweet as can be—works the call button like a buzzer on a game show. I'm in her room every five minutes, and it throws off my whole schedule. I have to run to get everything done on time, which leaves little time to hang out with Helize.

To top it off, Zane is tied up with some special project at work—some new software that needs to be ready for launch by the beginning of December. I haven't seen him since the night he stayed over. He's missed all the pre-wedding events, and Mom is starting to freak out that he'll miss the actual wedding. She's already a nervous wreck, and guess who has to hear about it?

So I've been a bit grouchy lately. Okay, a lot. Zane missed Thanksgiving, which sucked. All of Mom's side of the family manages to make it down—and since the wedding is in eight days, they’ve been staying with us. So now the house is full of Harringtons.

Maybe it's a good thing he couldn't make it. Though I did tell him about the highlight of the evening—Great Grandma Frances cornering Bill in the kitchen with a spoon and a (clean) adult diaper. The look of terror on Bill's face was...sublime.

Great Grandma's a little nutty.

We've been fighting a lot, lately—Zane and I. I'll admit, most of it is due to my insecurities. I can't help but obsess over what Zane's doing at the moment. Is he eating dinner alone like he says he's doing? Is he really still at work at eight at night? Why can't he spare a few hours to make it to the rehearsal dinner?

My imagination starts going wild, and Zane gets exasperated. Especially since I don't come right out with what's bugging me. Even though we both know. But the sick thing is...I kind of like starting fights with him. It's devastating, exciting...foreplay.

I know. I'm a freak. God, I can't wait to see him again











Chapter 23



Mom's wedding...

The day starts out cloudy with a cool breeze. Mom is freaking out, worried that it will rain, even though the wedding planner assures her they can easily move the ceremony into the great hall if even a tiny drop of rain dares to fall.

She's driving me crazy. Mom—not the wedding planner, that is. She refuses to let me leave her side for even a minute. She is ridiculously nervous, and shaking like a leaf.

She looks beautiful, despite her nerves. Mom's wearing a simple white sheath dress that doesn't overwhelm her delicate figure. She keeps her makeup minimal and natural-looking, her pale blonde hair pinned up with a white lily. I love her classy elegant style. It's what I'd want for my own wedding. Assuming I'd ever get married.

The wedding is being held at Woodburn Estates, in the fairy garden. Vibrant exotic flowers bloom everywhere and colorful twinkle lights are subtly woven through branches and wrapped around old fashioned lamp lights. The big white gazebo drips with lights and flowers, and Jeri, the wedding planner, informs us that most of the guests have been seated.

"You look so lovely, Violet," Mom says, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Don't cry," I warn her, handing her a tissue just in case. "And thanks. You look amazing, too."