Summer's Desire Vol. 1 (Complete)

Part 2: Chapter 6 *with Jessica's picture

I dedicate this chapter to blueskylite, who wanted to "throw heavy things" at "stupid Jessica and her mom". Thank you, blueskylite, for caring about my characters. Thank you for caring about my story. This one goes out to you, with my gratitude.

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Chapter 6

"Sunny!" I hear from behind me and I stop, my feet rooted to the floor of the deserted hallway. There is only one person in the world who has ever called me Sunny.

God, I can't do this! I'm not strong enough to face him—my former savior who became my destroyer. But I still can't move, and his footsteps are coming closer. How can I even hear him? I ask myself in a daze. In all the years I've known him, I've only ever seen him move as silently as a shadow.

Then my sense of unreality deepens even further because he's already reached me and his hands are touching me. Gently, he turns me around so that I face him, and I tilt my head. Heavens, he's tall! And so outrageously beautiful from up close.

Our eyes meet, and the way he's looking at me breaks my heart with the sweet burden of old memories. He's looking at me as he used to, as if there is only the two of us in the world. As if I'm the answer to all his prayers.

I realize in this moment that as deeply as his betrayal wounded me, as much as I've tried to hate him for having forgotten me and all his promises to me... I could never do that. This boy is part of me, so deeply embedded in my heart and in every fiber of my being that I could sooner die than dig him out. I've always loved this boy and I always will. It was the memory of the look I see on his face now, focused on me, that has sustained me through all the years when I was alone.

"It's really you. It's really my Sunny," he says in wonder. For the first time in more than five years, I don't feel alone anymore.

His Sunny. Yes, I've always been his. And he has always been mine.

I almost throw myself in his arms and beg him to allow me back in his life and to be my friend again. But suddenly his beautiful warm eyes shutter, becoming unreadable. His formerly gentle clasp on my arms tightens.

"What are you doing here?" There's no inflection in his voice now, as if he was talking to a stranger. I immediately feel cold—though where his hands grip my arms, even through the layers of material, it's as if my skin is burning.

"I've been fostered to the Andersons," I manage to answer.

"The Andersons?" He raises an eyebrow. "That's an interesting development. Anything familiar about the Andersons' house?"

His tone isn't inflectionless now, it's mocking. There's one other emotion in his voice as well, but I can't figure out which; the mockery has cut me to the quick.

I stay silent.

"Nothing familiar, then?" he asks harshly. "What an adaptive memory you have, to so easily forget the past. And your promises!"

His grip on my arms is starting to hurt, and I finally understand that he's angry. Why is he angry? I'm the one who should be furious.

I feel my own anger rising at the unfairness of his accusations. "Of the two of us, I'm not the one with the adaptive memory, Seth. I've forgotten nothing. Let me go!" I try to escape his hold. God, he's strong. "You're hurting me!" I shout, and he truly is—he's ripping my heart to shreds. Our past together may be forgettable to him, but I treasure every memory and it tears me inside that he doesn't feel the same.

He lets go immediately but seems even angrier now, if that's possible. "You're telling me that you've forgotten nothing?"

"Oh, there are some things I should have forgotten," I challenge. "Some things not worth remembering." I want to hurt him like he's hurting me, so I'm implying that I should have forgotten him, that he wasn't worth being remembered by me. Not after he betrayed me.