Dear Mr. Pessimist,
Why am I still writing these? I can see it on your face now, in your eyes, your smile. You're happier, you smile more. But I'm not done, not yet. I'm going to write these until I'm out of sticky notes, until the end of this summer.
With Love,
Syd
xoxoxoxoxoxxoxox
"Bennett! What in the world happened in here?"
I pushed myself away from Bennett, glancing around us.
Flour and chocolate fondu was splashed on the stone counter tops and the once clean tile below us.
"Why are you both covered in food?" Mr. Banks questioned, his eyes on me, "What is she doing in our house? We fired her an-"
"She's my girlfriend." Bennett said through his teeth, wiping the chocolate from his cheeks, "She can come over whenever the hell she wants." His parents stared back and forth between us for a second before Mrs. Banks finally spoke.
"Girlfriend? Bennett, you don't ne-"
"I don't care what you think, not anymore." He grabbed my hand and started toward the staircase, shaking his head.
"Bennett, can we just talk for a second? In private?" His dad called after us. I smiled weakly at Bennett and gestured up the stairs with the back of my hand.
"I can wait in your room. Do you mind if I, um-"
"Use my shower? No. Go ahead." He squeezed my hand before walking back toward his parents, shoving his hands into his pocket, his back tensed. I stared down at my hands for a second, letting out a shaky breath, before jogging up the stairs without looking back.
*
Bennett still wasn't in his room when I got out of the shower, but I found a long t-shirt set on the bed, my clothes gone.
"My Mom took them." Bennett said, walking into his room. I wrapped the robe tighter around me, watching him show the door behind him.
"I hope you didn't have anything planned for tonight, because you won't be able to leave until your clothes are done." He was smiling as he talked, but it didn't even come close to meeting his eyes.
"So you're holding me hostage?" I gasped, throwing my hand over my chest, "What am I to do?" He laughed and sat on the edge of his bed, tossing his shirt at me.
Once I had finished getting dressed in the bathroom, I walked back out and joined Bennett on his balcony, laying my hand on his arm.
"You okay? Did they say-"
"It's fine, Syd. What they said doesn't matter." He turned, running his finger along my jawline. I shut my eyes, my breath shaky.
"Syd, what's wrong?" He held my chin in between his fingers, his eyes scanning mine.
"Is it my fault?" I whispered.
"What? Is what your fault?" He was shaking his head again, genuinely confused.
"The accident. The baby and-"
"Why in the world would it be your fault, Syd?" He was breathing heavily, "Why would ask something like that? You weren't even there." I pushed his hands away from me as I slid down the balcony door.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Mr. Pessimist {Completed}
Teen Fiction"Dear Mr. Pessimist, here are a few reasons to love yourself and the world." When Sydney Hale gets a job at one of the biggest bakeries in her town, she expects a normal and calm atmosphere. Little does she know that she's in for the exact op...