Strings Attached

Chapter Eight

Theodore sighed. "Chris--"

"You didn't have any right to tell her," I said, meaning it. "It's not your life."

"I was just worried about you, Chris. That's all." Theodore stared at me. He looked hurt.

"Well, don't be." I scowled. "I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to come and babysit me."

"I never said you did," he said coldly. "I just assumed you needed to talk to someone about it."

"Well, I didn't," I said.

I was lying. I obviously needed to talk about it, but I did not want for Theodore to know that. I did not want for him to think that I was not strong enough to get over my dad's leaving. I did not want him to judge me for not being as strong as he appeared to be.

"You did, Chris," he said.

"No, I did not," I said, frowning.

Theodore got closer to me and stared at me firmly. His grey eyes looked into mine, and I could feel my pride melting away. He looked as though he was looking right through me, as though his soul was exploring mine, and I felt quite vulnerable just thinking about it.

"Did you know that when people lie they are more likely to avoid using contractions?" he simply asked me.

"W--what?" I asked, nervous.

"What you heard," he said. "You said 'I did not' instead of simply saying 'I didn't.'"

"That has nothing to do with anything," I said, growing defensive.

"Your posture is also very rigid," he said, "Which is also a sign that you're lying."

I scoffed, but then I noticed that he was right. I was very tense. Theodore was probably reading my emotions and thoughts with that intense look of his. I pushed the thought aside. That was impossible, right?

"Chris, you can keep lying to everyone around you, but you cannot keep lying to yourself for much longer." He sighed. "You push people away. That's your problem. You don't want to let anyone in, do you?"

I frowned. "You don't know anything about me," I said.

"Oh, trust me. I do know about people like you," he said.

I stared at his eyes with determination. I wanted to show him that I had nothing to hide, but he was right. I pushed people away. I did not allow anyone in because I was afraid of being hurt again. Theodore understood that. He knew about my fears, and I hated to be so exposed to him.

"I..." I turned to see the ground. "Thank you for telling Mom. I needed to talk to her about it sooner or later."

It was not much, but at least it was something.

He smiled. "You're welcome," he said.

Theodore always managed to make me want to talk to him about stuff I would have never talked to anyone else about. But it did not completely bother me. In fact, it was a little bit relieving to let my feelings show every now and then.

I did not want to talk about my dad, though. I just did not want him to see any more vulnerability from my part. That is why I simply said, "Goodnight," before I started crying.

I only wanted to get away from everything. I only wanted to forget what my father had done, if only for a short amount of time.

The thing about being abandoned, though, is that you always feel somehow empty, as though a piece of you were missing and no one could ever give it back to you. The thing about being forgotten and left behind was that I felt so hurt that my own heart would remind me of it all the time.