Summer came around after three weeks. It was long and tedious and boring without her, but I got through it by telling myself she was going to come back. She did.
She was full of apologies when she showed up at my doorstep - apologies that I didn't want to hear. She had her reasons. What kind of person would I be if I forced her to tell me?
"I'm sorry," she kept saying.
"Don't worry about it," I kept responding.
Everytime I said that, she opened her mouth to talk again. But nothing came out. As much as I wondered what she was going to say, I didn't really want to ask.
"I haven't been completely honest with you, Eli," she finally said.
"You don't have to tell me," I told her.
She looked at me skeptically. I wondered what she was thinking. Did she think I was weird? Annoying? Too trusting? What ran through her mind when she saw my face - heard my name? "Why not?" she asked.
I almost forgot what I had said. But I remembered. "Because if you wanted to tell me in the first place, or at least felt comfortable enough, then I would know already."
"You're too good of a person sometimes, Eli."
"I know."
YOU ARE READING
Ironic
Teen Fictionin which a boy loses someone close to him in death, and in the midst of his mourning period he meets a girl
