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“Bree—” Dad’s voice gets cut off by someone knocking on the front door.
“I’ll get it,” I immediately offer as I stand up, running away from that conversation that was doomed to be a failure.
I walk to the door, rushing my legs because I can’t wait to get away from my parents. Now that I’m calmer about the topic, I can sense that they want to sit down and tell me what they thought when I told them in the first place.
Shaking my head, I turn the knob and open the door.
My body freezes when I recognize the person on the other side. A gasp gets stuck in my throat, my eyes roaming over Stanley’s anatomy. His blond hair is wet, and so are his clothes. Scratch that. He’s soaking wet from his hair to his dirty white Converse, drops of water stream down his skin, getting lost in his coat.
“Why are you here?” I blurt out as confusion scrapes over me.
My thoughts are blocked. They flew away as soon as I laid my eyes on him. I don’t know how to react when all of my heart is yearning for him. This is what I’ve been waiting for days for him to show up at my doorstep and kiss me.
But he’s not kissing me, and I have anger running in my veins.
“What did you do, Bree?” Stan demands to know.
I step back, and a frown appears on my forehead.
“I did what I had to do. I told you that I would fix it,” I respond in an evident tone. “Now,why are you here?”
Stanley closes his eyes as he shakes his head, cursing under his breath.
“Dammit, Bree. You didn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have done that,” he insists, raising his voice. “What about your—”
“It’s done,” I interrupt him dryly, digging my teeth in my bottom lip. “Is that all?” I ask him, expecting him to say otherwise.
Don’t let me go, please.
My hand trembles against the wood of the door, itching to touch him, but I don’t move at all. He hasn’t said anything that makes me feel like I can come back to him, that there’s a place for me in his heart. No, I want him to pour his soul for me and give me an explanation. I need to know what took him so long.
Stanley has his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are flaming, showing his anger. This is the first time that I’ve seen him this pissed at me. I hadn’t witnessed this before, not even when we didn’t get along.
“Why would you do that?” Stan begs, moving his hands as if he wanted to touch me, but doesn’t. “That the most impulsive, stupid, and reckless thing that you’ve ever done.”
I’m skeptical as I frown my forehead. His blunt words catch me off guard, and I’ll admit that. It wasn’t what I was expecting from him. Rage fuels the fire that triggers my words. The truth claws his way out to match his disbelief and discontent for what I did.
“Stupid? You. Are. Unbelievable,” I pronounce, spitting the words, and he opens his mouth to reply. I lift a hand, shutting him up. “I saved your ass. You’re fucking welcome!”
He passes his fingers through the wet strands of his hair.
“Jesus Christ, Bree! Throwing your future out because of a boy?”
I know that he has a valid point, but I’m livid. Anger blinds me, and I can feel it burning in my throat. I’m hurt that he didn’t appreciate what I did for him, that he can’t see that I sacrificed something essential to make him a priority.
“You’re not just any boy for me.”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“Why?” Stanley presses instead.
“Because I love you, you dumb insensitive asshole!” I exclaim and close the door behind me, running upstairs to my room as my parents call my name. I go to my room, hiding away from the world, and that’s when reality hits me, transforming into a wave of wild tears that threaten to run down my cheeks.
I told Stanley that I loved him.
Blinking the tears away, I’m paralyzed, standing in the middle of my room. I’m gasping for air, trying to control the adrenaline that rushes in my veins. The impulse sends a shiver down my spine. It was a fucking impulse, but I can’t say that it was a lie either.
I do love him.
