He's a Fanboy?!

He is a Friend of Luke's

"Are you fucking serious?" I look from the book to his face to Katy to Dale to his face again because he can't be fucking serious.

He seems to have expected this response. All he does is shrug. "Well, yeah. It's a good book. I'm surprised you didn't read it last year. Rainbow Rowell collaborated on this one--"

"Not the book, you shank. Why are you here?"

Brayden takes the seat next to me and I immediately shuffle away. He looks up but doesn't address it. I look behind me, hoping in vain that Katy and Dale are still there. Of course they aren't. "Let's not waste time. I wanted to see you," he says.

His words repeat over and over in my head. I wanted to see you. He came for me, only for me. A happy feeling blossoms in my chest. But I'm still mad at him, he hasn't apologized, and clearly I'm not his number one priority anyway.

When I don't respond, he keeps talking. "You're mad at me."

"You don't say."

"I don't want you to be mad at me."

I turn to look at him. "What do you want me to do? Stop my emotions?"

"I came because I wanted to explain what happened and I don't want to lose you," Brayden speaks with overwhelming confidence and it makes me wonder if he rehearses his words or if he's just that good at talking to people.

"I'm not the one who stopped talking."

He lets out a long sigh. "Do you remember when I told you about my ex-girlfriend?" I nod. "I was thinking about what happened then. And I didn't want it to happen again--"

"I find that hilarious, because you practically repeated your history." The book My True Love Gave To Me in my hands, I walk away.

_____________________

There is an aching feeling in my chest when I wake up. It's dark and pouring rain outside, which is incredibly fitting.

Every year I dread this day and this year, the death anniversary of my father reminds me only of how lonely I really am.

It's supposed to get better as time goes by. That's what they say, isn't it? Time heals everything. And it was, it was getting so much better. Years were going by and it hurt a little less each time.

But the former years I'd never known what it was like to have another human by my side, caring and wanting to be with me. I'd never known Brayden. Or Luke, for that matter. I'd had my books and even though my dad was no longer with me it wasn't like I knew real friendship anyway.

Now that I do, everything is worse. It hurts in my head and my heart and my chest. It hurts because the reminder of my lost father reminds me that I've only ever lost people.

His grave is in the city.

It is Saturday, about five in the morning. I dress myself, and while I brush my teeth I try not to look at the mirror as much as possible because my face only reminds me of dad's face. Clutching my bag, I make my way to the bus stop.

There is nobody here. I lean against a pole, letting my eyes droop a little. Fifteen minutes later, I check what time the bus is supposed to come.

Ten minutes ago.

I look around, wondering if the bus is just late. It probably is, it has been before. But a feeling in my gut tells me that something's wrong (except I already know that because everything is wrong at the moment and I kind of just want to cry but that'd be quite the mess and I already have a big enough mess) so I pull out my phone, immediately searching up Mistrose Transit.