chapter eighteen

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That's it. The whole message. Is he for real? What kind of person writes an ominous message like that and nothing else? I want answers. No. I need answers. What do you mean??? I text him back even though I know the likelihood of getting some sort of closure is practically zero. There are some people in life that I will never understand, and he is one of them. I don't know what he wants from me. Whatever it is, he won't get it. Not if I can help it. Once I shut off my phone, I let myself rest, pretending that none of this happened.

Tomorrow arrives too soon. I was still waggishly dreaming when tomorrow turned into today. Beside me, Cyrus is snoring like a baby bear. I wonder how late he stayed up last night. Definitely way too late. On the other hand, I can already hear energetic footsteps echoing from across the wall. With a weary yawn, I drag myself up to go check on Brynleigh. What could she possibly be doing this early in the morning?

"Nicolas! Come dance with me," she says, gesturing to the neon dance pad lighting up the floor.

"Nope. No way," I refuse.

"Please?" her eyes turn droopy and then she blinks rapidly, batting her eyelashes at me.

"Nuh-huh."

"You're no fun. Remember that time we danced together at the winter formal together because none of us could find a date? Well, it was going swimmingly before I ditched you for Kaiden. That's when disaster struck. He didn't pay any attention to me and made me feel so small. Like I was worthless. He sucks."

"You got that right," my bottom lip perks up into a smile. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that he has issues."

"Issues is one way to put it. I don't think his head works properly. Maybe he fell down the stairs when he was a baby and ever since he's been dysfunctional," she comments, summoning a snort from my nose.

"That's got to be the most ridiculous thing I've heard you say to date, and you say a lot of outrageous things."

"You know what, I'm going to take that as a compliment... as long as you dance with me."

"Whatever," I scoff, giving in. As soon as that last syllable falls out of my mouth, she grabs my arm and shimmies into it. We rock back and forth until she gets tired and switches up the music. Alternative punk is now blasting against our eardrums, in a manner that's almost deafening. I'm surprised that the whole hotel hasn't awoken considering how loud it is. When the song ends, she starts up another. And then another. And another. By the time she goes to select the sixth song, I reach out my hand to cup her wrist in defiance.

"No more," I pant in between breaths. "I'd say that's enough dancing for today."

"If you say so, but you owe me some more dancing another day."

"Deal," I interject before she can add even more conditions that she'll hold me accountable to. She waves a ''see you later'' and we go our separate ways for breakfast. Despite her slightly bossy yet confident personality, I've come across the realization that I really like her. Not in the way that I like Sander. That's different. When his name swirls at the tip of my tongue, I can't help but feel butterflies. It sounds cliché but it's the truest thing I feel. I still think about him every day. I don't want to, but the brain is a strange place. Wherever I try not to think about something, I end up doing so. It's like the opposite game but with no end. I can't beat this game I call my mind and it's going to eat me alive if I don't find a better way to cope.

It hurts, deeply. My heart has been slashed with a saber and although the wound will eventually heal, it will always leave a scar. A scar that'll be tattooed on my chest forever to remind me how terribly I messed up. But I've come to terms with it. I've acknowledged that I have to deal with it. Forward is the only direction I can go, not backwards. There are so many things I want to say to him but I must wait. Patience is a virtue. He needs time, and I'm willing to give it to him. I'll wait a thousand years if I need to. I'll wait for you, Sander.

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