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“I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight.”
I Miss You, blink-182
Joshua
I sat on the edge of my bed, hunched over my phone. I scrolled through my messages with Sawyer, my face etched with concern. She hadn’t responded to any of my texts yesterday or today. I waited for her after my game, but she never showed up. It was unlike her.
I glanced at the time on my screen before sending another text. The minutes seemed to drag on, each one making the silence more suffocating. With a sigh, I pocketed my phone and leaned against my pillows, staring at the drab ceiling. My brows furrowed as I tried to think back on our interaction before my game. What did I do wrong?
I rubbed my temples, frustration mounting with each unanswered thought. A faint buzz interrupted the silence. My heart leaped in my chest as I reached for my phone, but the excitement faded. It was only Kellan. I let it go to voicemail, not in the mood to talk to anyone but Sawyer.
“Are you going to come out of your room soon?” My mother asked, hovering in the doorway.
“No.”
She sighed, sitting down beside me. She reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder, offering silent support.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice a soothing balm.
“Sawyer isn’t speaking to me.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts, and she never congratulated me after my game.”
She listened as I poured my heart out.
“Josh, sweetie.” She said. “She lives right across the street. Talk to her.”
I sprung out of bed, mentally facepalming for not having thought of it sooner. Without a second to waste, I stomped downstairs and out the front door. The snow fell around me, a serene backdrop to my inner turmoil. I stood before her front door, my heart heavy with determination. Knuckles clenched. I knocked. I could sense her presence, but the door remained closed.
“Please talk to me, Sawyer.” I pleaded, my voice carrying a hint of desperation. “Please tell me what I did.” Snow or not, I refused to leave until she spoke to me. “I’m not leaving until we work this out.”
She ignored me. I paced back and forth for a solid fifteen minutes until the door creaked open. My heart plummeted into my stomach at her tear-stricken face. I rushed to embrace her, but she put her hand out in front of me.
“When were you going to tell me you dated Elsie?” she asked, her eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and betrayal.
My eyes widened, realizing why she’d been avoiding me.
“Who told you?”
She scoffed.
“That’s what you’re concerned about?”
I brushed my trembling fingers through my hair as I tried to find the words to say.
“I didn’t think it mattered,” I said. “It was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“We broke up before last summer.” She shook her head, about to slam the door in my face, but I stopped her. “It means nothing.”
“How can you say that?” She asked, her anger simmering. “Of course, it matters.”
“It doesn’t.” I said. “She was my first love. It’s not that big of a deal. Everyone has one.”
It’s as if a barrier appeared between us, but it did nothing to ease the tension. She wrapped her arms around herself.
