Hi everyone! Happy holidays!
UPDATE DECEMBER 2020: I hope everyone is staying safe during these hard times.
So this is technically the final chapter, but in the past year, I have added two (and there will be one more) little epilogue chapters that kinda gets you up to date, but doesn't give a concrete ending. I know I probably can't write a better final scene than this chapter.)
December 2019: I am so sorry for the late update--the past two weeks have been finals and currently, I'm traveling (I posted it yesterday- it said it was posted, turned off my phone, and tried to post again SO CAN SOMEONE COMMENT THAT ITS BEEN POSTED
I've been working hard on this chapter (the first half though, is not the best written) and, to my knowledge, this is the longest chapter I've ever written in this book. You deserved extra for all the wait.
Emery
Thursday- 7:30
I hated this attention. I hated being hugged by people I hardly knew, saying, "we're glad you're okay" "we were worried."
I didn't like knowing I worried any of them.
About once a year, a member of the group ends up in a hospital, psych ward, rehab place. And per request, they would all write letters.
My letters were mediocre, some more thoughtful than others (for example, Cooper's) and others completely generic.
"Let's welcome Emery back," Mitch said gesturing for everyone to quiet down.
"How are you doing, Emery?" Mitch asked.
"Nervous," I answered without thinking.
"About what?" Copper asked kindly.
About Levi, I thought. But I couldn't say it, because I knew he wouldn't come.
"Well, I'm moving next week," I explained.
"Moving houses or like going into treatment?" he inquired.
"Treatment," I said, but paused. I wasn't just going to treatment. I was going to Scotland. "In Scotland."
I could tell Cooper was taken aback and even a bit sad. I didn't understand why. But the sorrow vanished as he smirked, saying, "You a scot' girl." he said in a broad Scottish accent.
"Yeah," I mumbled.
Everyone was looking at me, I wanted the attention away from me.
And I got my wish.
The door opened and a boy stood in the doorway.
He looked a lot holder then I remember. His brown auburn hair was longer, it fell past his ears but above his shoulders. His eyes were no longer panicked like a young child, he looked firm and in control.
He wasn't in his terrifying football jacket. He wore a light grey sweater under a rusty brown leather jacket.
Levi.
I think I made some noise somewhere between a gasp and groan.
He seemed, well, himself, I guess. A bit more mellow and less angry.
I stared at him like he was a foreign body I've never seen before.
The last time I saw Levi, he was on a stretcher, covered in blood and foam at his mouth.
YOU ARE READING
The Lies We Told On Thursday Nights
Teen Fiction"She wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't supposed to see my name on the list of effed up teens. She was not supposed to see my faults. And she, nor anyone else in my life, was supposed to know my story." ~~~ "I never thought he would be there. Si...
