Falling for the Ghost of You(79)

"Uh, no," I interrupt. "If anything, I...it was—it was mutual. The distance thing, you know. It was too hard. Why would you assume I was the one who got dumped?"

She flushes. "Oh, no, I didn't mean to—I'm sorry, sweetie. You seemed so upset, so I thought—it’s not that I think he’s out of your league or anything—"

"No, I—it's okay. Can we talk about my punishment and stuff tomorrow? I'm really tired right now."

Mom searches my face intently. Finally, she comes over to me and puts one hand on my cheek. "Okay. We'll talk tomorrow."

Thank god. I don't know how much longer I can hold it together.

It's stupid. I'm the one that broke it off with Zane, yet I keep checking my phone for messages from him. Now I wish I hadn't deleted all his texts and calls. Pathetic, right?

It's when I'm lying in bed that it hits me in a sudden crushing pain in my chest. I curl into a ball, crying out in despair.

Zane. Zane. I'm not going to see him again, touch him, talk to him. I've been so caught up in who he really is that I haven't had time to comprehend this huge...loss in my life. How am I suppose to go on without him to look forward to? How am I suppose to face each day, knowing he won’t be in it? I’ll survive, of course I will. I just…it just hurts so much right now.

I'm sobbing so hard, I don't hear her come in. The bed dips and then I feel Mom's comforting warmth curled against my back. She doesn't say anything, she just strokes my hair and lets me cry.

We stay like that for most of the night. It's exactly what I need.











Chapter 33



The next morning, I'm in the kitchen, listlessly eating fudge pop tarts, when Bill wanders in.

He appears startled to see me, and for a moment, it looks like he's going to turn right back around and leave.

I watch him internally wrestle with himself for a couple of minutes. It’s funny how he looks from me to the door, whipping his head back and forth, until I feel like getting a laser pointer and shining it in his eyes. Finally, he addresses me.

"Hi, Violet," he mumbles reluctantly.

"Good morning, Bill," I mumble back.

He stands there and rubs the back of his neck. While studying him, I realize how much Zane resembles him. As Aiden Cross, that is. It's funny how I never noticed before. Ha ha.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, startling me. "About the thing with Zane. I didn't realize the two of you were...together. I should have told him to stay away from you..."

"It’s okay, Bill." I smile weakly. "Zane did try to stay away. I didn't let him."

"Oh," he says, looking—if possible—even more uncomfortable.

He half-turns as if to leave, then awkwardly twists back around again.

Zane's a good guy," he says quickly. "Being Aiden Cross is—it's hard on him, sometimes. It's—it's not who he really is. Who he really is—he's Zane. When he—uh, he's never let anyone know the real him, unless he really cares about them. I—maybe he…I think he let you in."

Bill's sweet bumbling little speech makes me want to hug him, even if I'm not quite sure what he’s trying to say.

"Thanks, Bill," I say. I offer him a more genuine smile this time.

He smiles back, quick and relieved. Then he abruptly turns and leaves.

That was nice. I wonder how he and Mom communicate with each other, with both of them being so awkward and inarticulate. Now that I've met and lived with Bill, I just cannot imagine him sweeping her off her feet like she claimed. I guess being stuck in an elevator for two hours brought out the romantic beast in him.

Huh. Maybe he's secretly smooth. Zane must've got it from somewhere.

Zane.

My appetite completely disappearing, I throw my barely nibbled on pop tarts in the trash, and go back upstairs to cry.



The next morning, I wake up with a horrible headache. I text Lauren to let her know I won't be going to school, and she texts me back saying she hopes I feel better, and to not worry about her getting a ride—her mom is off for the next couple of days, so she can use the car.

Relieved, I turn off my phone and toss it...somewhere. Then I bury my head under the blankets and surrender to the pounding pain in my head.

I feel like the survivor of a bloody war the next day, but I suppose I feel well enough to go to school. Might as well, I guess.

I am so late. I throw on a raggedy old shirt and a long blue skirt that appeared in my closet one day, origin unknown.

Where is my phone? I vaguely remember throwing it somewhere last night. Crap, I don't have time to look for it. At least I don't have to pick up Lauren today.

At first I think it's just my paranoid imagination that people are staring and whispering about me, but by the end of first period, I'm ready to start screaming at all the gawking idiots. Did Kim tell about Zane?