Chapter Three

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Since I probably won't see you again tonight ... goodnight.

What does that mean?

Does it mean what I think it means? That he's not planning on coming home? That he's going to spend the night banging some random girl? And if it does mean that, then why do I care so much? Jace can do whatever he wants. He's my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. So why does my chest feel so hollow, like my heart has been carved out, at the thought of him with another girl? He's not mine. He owes me nothing.

Get it together, Nova, I scold myself as I walk through the chilly air toward the apartment building down the block.

This freak-out of mine needs to stop.

I'm beginning to think moving in with Jace was one of the worst decisions I've ever made—and that's saying something. But ever since then, my feelings for him have grown a bit more every day. I don't understand it.

I keep reminding myself that we're just friends but those words are doing nothing to assuage my attraction.

I reach the building and push the door to go inside.

I head straight up to the apartment and into my room where I change into my pajamas and flop onto my bed staring up at the ceiling. My room is barely big enough for a full-size bed, a dresser, and a desk which also serves as my night table. On the ceiling, I've hung swatches of black fabric, creating my own canopy, and it has wire star lights dangling down. The great thing about high ceilings is there's an endless list of possibilities of things you can do.

I stare up at the twinkling lights for a few minutes before reaching over to my desk and grabbing my notebook.

Per my usual nighttime ritual, I begin to write.

Dear Owen,

I dyed my hair blue today.

I wish you could see it. I bet you'd love it.

Not much else happened today that I have to tell you. My life is so boring without you. Tomorrow is my first Monday of classes. I can't believe I'm a sophomore. Where'd the time go? I feel like I blinked and became an adult and I guess it feels even weirder because in so many ways I feel like I'm still such a child—like I have so much left to learn.

I guess that's the thing though—we're always learning.

I miss you.

Every. Single. Day.

You're always in my thoughts.




I tear the piece of paper out and fold it up then I stuff it and the notebook back in the drawer. I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, like the gesture alone can help seal the gaping wound in my chest.

I don't know why I bother.

Some wounds never heal.

Sometimes you have to feel pain to remind you that you're alive.

I allow myself one more minute of wallowing in misery before I shuck off the pain and climb beneath the covers.

My thoughts venture back to Jace and what he might be planning to spend his night doing and I feel queasy again—which in turn makes me angry at myself because I have no right to feel that way.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jan 15, 2017 ⏰

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