Him by Carey Heywood (reading strategies book .txt) 📕

structures no longer exist? I feel almost sad for the kids that followed us and missed out. Will rambles, which is not like him, the rest of the drive, catching me up on seven years’ worth of gossip. I want to tell him I don’t care, that I avoid social networks for this reason, but I still love the sound of his voice. It would be silly to silence him. Plus, as he speaks, I become morbidly fascinated by what had become of our former classmates. There were deaths, marriages, divorces, and an unexpected sex change.

"Really?" It was my second really.

"Yep, ran into her at Wegman's."

"More power to her. Gotta do what makes you happy."

"Are you happy?"

"Christ, conversation whiplash."

"That was a dodge, Sarah."

I groan and start spinning my ring. He doesn’t get to know if I'm happy or not. That isn’t fair. I have made it through so much, all by myself, to get to where I am today. I shrug and look out my window. "I don’t think I'm unhappy. Is that close enough?"

He nods.

Let's see how he feels answering it. "So are you happy?"

He chews the corner of his lip. It's distracting, makes me stare at his mouth.

"I'm happy in some aspects of my life but unhappy in others."

"Talk about vague. So what are you doing about the parts that make you unhappy?"

"I'm working on it. I got you in my car again."

Jesus, what did that mean? I have no sane response to that so I drop it, racking my brain for something to say to change the subject.

He takes in my panicked expression. "I just meant that I've missed you in my life."

I missed him too. Most days, I do everything in my power to stay busy in the hope of not thinking about him. Seeing him, being in his car, this will clearly set me back years. When he pulls up to my house, he surprises me when he follows me to the front door after getting my things out of the car.

"Shouldn’t you probably be heading home?"

"Nah. I've got time."

Instead of waiting for me to knock, he opens the door and walks right in. I stand on the doorstep, shell-shocked for a beat before walking in after him. He's gone to the kitchen and is hugging my brother and kissing my mother on the cheek.

"What is going on here?' I ask.

"Sarah!" My family rushes to hug and kiss me.

Will leans against my parents’ kitchen counter. "Believe it or not, Sarah and I were on the same flight today. I gave her a lift home from the airport."

"What are the odds? How did the ceremony go?" Brian asks.

He picks up an apple from the basket behind him. "It was great. Thanks." He took a bite. He hadn’t even asked. What is he doing in my house?

"Seriously, what is going on here?" I ask again.

"What do you mean?" Brian looks at me strangely.

Will shrugs and keeps right on eating the apple. "He's eating an apple." I point at Will.

Now it's my mother's turn to stare at me. "So?"

Am I going crazy? "Well, why is he so comfortable in your house?"

Will pushes off of the counter, walking around me to throw the core away. "Just because you left doesn’t mean I did."

My mouth drops. "You kept coming over here after I moved away?"

My mother walks over to Will and puts her arm around his waist. "Of course he did. Will is like a second son to me."

"I didn’t know." I hate how small my voice sounds. I look back up at Will. "So you knew about the wedding?"

Brian laughs. "Shit. He’s my best man. He introduced me to Christine."

"Language, Brian." My mother flicks him with a dish towel.

I don’t know why I feel like crying. I press my lips tightly together and nod before hurrying off to my room. Will is hot on my heels. I hear my mom call out after us, but I continue up the stairs.

"Why didn’t you mention any of this" I make a jerky circle with my hand. "On the plane."

He shrugs. "The element of surprise, I guess."

"So how do you know Christine?"

"She's a math teacher at Renfroe."

I turn to face him and put my hand up on the door frame of my old room. "My brother is marrying a math teacher?"

Will just smirks at me, then nods.

I bend over, clutching my stomach laughing. "He," I say, trying to catch my breath, "hates math."

The look Will is now giving me can only read amused spectator of insane women. God, I feel like an idiot. I hurry the rest of the way into my room and make to shut the door in Will's face. It’s a feeble attempt that does not work, so I sigh dramatically and flop onto my bed face down.

"Are you about done yet?"

"With what?" I mumble into my pillow.

I feel the bed lower under his weight and raise my head to look at him.

"Your hissy fit."

I drop my head again. "Nope."

I have clearly been sucked back in time. I'm in my old room, and Will Price is sitting on my bed. Only the last time he was here, we were… I have to stop thinking about the past. I peek up at him, and he laughs but doesn't move. I don’t know why I'm so annoyed at him.

I lift my head further and rest my chin on my elbows. "So, on the plane, when you asked where I live and what I do. Did you already know?"

He shrugs. "Some."

I flip over on to my side, my back to him. The whole time I've been gone I just assumed he didn’t know where I was or how to get a hold of me. I had always hoped that if he did, he would come after me. Learning that he probably knew where I was the whole time hurt. It only confirmed my leaving after that night had been the right decision. Ugh, why couldn’t he just go away?

I stand, backing away