How He Broke My Heart

Chapter 29

Why do I have to be so mean to her? Well, why does she have to do that—make me angry. She knows I hate talking about it. What did she expect from me? Did she expect me to behave since Brandon is here? Did she expect me to buckle under his congratulations? I told her not to. I looked right into her eyes and asked her not to, and she did, she spit it right out as if the knife needs to be plunged in again. He won't understand. No one ever understands why I hate talking about it, or myself in general, and that's probably because I can't provide a satisfying explanation.

Entering my bedroom, I quickly turn to close the door, but Brandon wedges himself in the way. Not crazy enough to shove him away or shut the door on his arm, I let go of the handle and sink into my room, letting him in. Expecting questions, I stay silent, but the moment passes.

I turn to see him holding one of my many shells in his hand.

"So you weren't lying, you really do have shells everywhere."

I step to him and gently take the small shell from his hand. "That would be a weird thing to lie about."

He motions to the window sill where broken ones are left to bathe in the sun. "Been sneaking out?"

"More like sneaking in."

Brandon is quiet for a few then asks, "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"It's not just you." I set the shell back on my dresser. "I mean, Jonas didn't even know, or Lauren. I just don't want people to know."

"Because?"

"Because when people find out they think I'm some genius. They tell me that I'm going to be the next J. K. Rowling. It's stupid. They're stupid for saying it. Even my mom says it. What am I supposed to do when I turn out normal? My family expects me to be some famous writer—and I hate it. I don't want anyone to know about it because I'm not some genius. I just—don't know." I look him right in his eyes. "So, please just erase it from your memory or something."

Brandon nods while slowly making his way around the room, glazing over every shell and floorboard and pillow. The sunset glows against his skin.

"What are you doing?"

He points down into the open closet. "What's that?" He bends down to get a closer look, but I step in the way. Between my legs, he reads, "HJ, MT, KL, and EC?"

"I shouldn't have let you in here."

"Milo and Kaden."

Rolling my lips together, I murmur, "Hunter."

"EC? Emma Conway?"

He looks down at me, so I push him away. "When it comes to you, I break my own heart."

The door suddenly pushes the rest of the way open and my Aunt peers in. With a knowing look, she says, "Dinner's on the table," before disappearing.

"I really don't want to do this," I tell him. "So, if I slip through the window, you can either follow or—"

Brandon leans down and kisses me softly. Everything inside of my body ceases to move. When he pulls away, I stay latched onto him. I think he's with me to study me. To figure me out psychologically. He studies my room and makes mental notes to mention such bizarre things in his paper.

"I want to go somewhere far away," I mumble. "I want to go somewhere with an empty beach where I can collect useless shells and where you can make love to me all day in the sand."

"Emma—"

"I'll sit pretty and have dinner if that's what you want to do, but I can't promise I'll keep my hands to myself afterward. So, let's go."