Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 32 | That Wasn't Very Nice Of You

(Unedited because I'm literally on a race against time bc my internet isn't working, so I'm at the library and they're closing in six minutes but I really wanted to post this chapter)

Chapter 32 | That Wasn't Very Nice Of You

"Perhaps the great loves come with tears." ― Marie Antoinette

"Sawyer," A voice says the next morning.

"Go away," I mumble, rolling over in the bed, away from the voice.

"Sawyer, wake up," The voice urges again and this time the person starts shaking my shoulder.

"I'm sad and I don't particularly want to be conscious right now, so please just leave me alone."

"But I have food," The person tells me and that, of course, instantly uplifts my mood just a little.

"What kind of food?" I query then, opening my eyes, but not rolling back over to face the person.

"Pretty much the only restaurant around here for miles is Panera Bread, so I hope you like that."

"I like Panera Bread more than I like myself," I assure him, sitting up in the bed and glancing over at the culprit, who is, of course, Halden.

He's standing there at the edge of the bed holding two paper bags from Panera Bread with a faint smile on his face. What he's smiling about, I don't know. I guess he could just be a perpetually happy person, like Graham. His dark brown hair is all matted down and his maroon red Volcom High Vultures hoodie is damp, so, evidently, it's raining...again. It's ridiculous, really. Like, this is freaking Cape Cod and it's freaking Spring Break—what's up with all of the stupid thunderstorms? It's a bit like a bad omen though now that I think about it.

"Okay then," Halden laughs, sitting down on the side of the queen-sized bed with no apparent regard as to how wet he's getting the floral print bedspread. He hands me one of the two Panera Bread bags and a drink then, which I accept with a grateful smile. I know that I don't know him that well—heck, I don't even remember his last name, to be honest—but he seems like a nice enough guy, so I'm going to trust that he didn't do anything cryptic to my drink or food. But if within the next twenty-four hours, I drop dead, you know who to come after.

"Thanks," I reply in a quiet voice. Then I feel a hoarseness in the back of my throat and sigh. That's what I get for crying myself to sleep.

"So, how'd you sleep?" Halden randomly wonders, pulling a Breakfast Panini out of his Panera Bread bag and taking a huge bite out of it.

"I didn't," I admit with another small sigh as all of the images and memories from yesterday start flooding my brain.

This is exactly why I wish Halden would have just let me sleep—although, it was pretty nice of him to bring me breakfast. At least when I was asleep though, I didn't have to think about the fact that I caught my boyfriend making out with a domesticated orangutan yesterday.

All of the sadness that overwhelmed me yesterday comes back and I suddenly lose my appetite, which is really saying something. I mean, it takes a lot for me to not want to eat. Right now though, I just don't have the desire or strength to. I'm really sad and I feel like I might puke again at any minute now, so that's pretty gross. I don't know why I keep having to vomit though—I'm pretty sure that's not normal.

"Like, at all?" Halden asks through a mouthful of his Panini, raising his eyebrows in question.

"No, not really. I think that I got, at most, like, an hour and a half of sleep," I respond, shaking my head. "I tried, but then I started thinking about Graham and then I started crying and then I'd end up crying for so long and so hard that I'd have to throw up. It was a cycle, really."