Found | √

Chapter Two

The reminder forces my eyes to snap to his. He's already watching me with those hazel eyes that still haunt me.

I pull away from my parents suddenly feeling extremely cramped with all the sudden emotions that fill me. I didn't like to feel many emotions. Emotions are messy, and I don't do messy. Messy creates problems.

But my parents, my sister, and Cale in one day, and in the span of ten minutes, it's too much. I look around the room and all eyes are on me. I panic. "I...um...I am going to go get my bags...."

I quickly start towards the front door when I hear my sister say, "Cale go help her."

My feet halt instantly and I whip around. "I don't need help." Especially yours, I want to add. My words come out a little hard.

Bailey waves her hand at me like I am being a child. "No, it's fine Cale will help you," she pushes. I roll my eyes and start towards the door like my life depends on it. I can't make a big deal out of this, or it will just look weird. But this whole situation is weird! I let out a frustrated growl. No one knows what happened that summer, no one knows of Cale and I, because I was just some dirty secret.

I make it to my car and open my trunk a little more forcefully than needed. I start throwing my luggage out of the car and onto the cement driveway. I can hear footsteps and I just hope it's my parents.

The sounds of footsteps stop right behind me, and I know it isn't my parents. I can feel him, feel the way my body heats at the proximity of his. I can feel the way my pulse jumps, and how my skin prickles with his nearness. I hate that my body still responds to him. 

"Do you want help?" His deep voice rubs against me making me want to curl in a ball and cry with all of the memories that suddenly slam into me.

I throw another bag out of the car. "Would rather throw my body off a cliff," my voice says full of hatred.

I hear him take a breath. "Are we going to talk about this?" his voice hushed. That's right, can't let anyone know you fucked my heart and body one summer. Anger begins to pump through me, and the more I think about him and that summer the more it fills me.

He walks a few steps until he's to my left near the trunk, but still a respectful amount of distance sits between us. "Gray..." he whispers, trailing as if there are no words. And he would be right. There are no words because he said all of them four years ago. I don't need to hear one more word ever come from his mouth.

I throw my last bag out and slam the trunk closed, almost hitting his face before he jumps out of the way. I meet his shock filled eyes. "Don't call me that. You are not my friend, and you are not family. You are nothing to me. So don't talk to me, and I hope you rot in hell," my voice is calm, but holds a single waver of wrath in it.

He finally backs away from me. His jaw locked and his body stiff, I know he's pissed. But he has no right to be. I may be acting like a bitch, but I wasn't the one who ended things like he did.

"What happened to the sweet Grayson?" he mumbles as he turns his back and starts in on back to the house.

I snort. "She died four years ago," I speak aloud. He pauses for a mere second at my words before walking into the house and closing the door a little harder than needed.

If he thinks I will let the past be the past he's wrong. In public I will act like nothing is wrong. But if he ever tries to talk to me one on one I'll let him have it. Sometimes late at night I will imagine what I would say to him if I ever saw again. A small smile touches my lips, damn would it feel great to say those things to him.

It takes two trips and a lot of huffing and puffing to lug my many bags into my room, and I am just on the first level. I even hear my sister tell Cale that I'm, "like a feminist or something" and that is why I won't let him help me with my bags. Bailey sometimes makes me want to punch a wall. If she only knew the true reason.