It All Started With a Diary

answers

I lowered my gaze. "As nice as it sounds, I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? Susie wouldn't care at all. She's barely even here so it would basically just be us," he tried to persuade. "We could be in this room, or if you want your privacy, I can clear out one of the guest rooms on the other side of the house and—"

I raised from my position in his bed, shaking my head. "Kade, I don't need for anyone to take care of me. And, plus...it's not like I'm being kicked out my house."

Kade watched me for a moment before, "The way you wrote about his mother in your diary, she sounded like someone who wants to hurt you. And, you know I don't do well with someone trying to hurt you," Kade said, the warning in his voice loud and clear.

I sighed at that. I had written about Ryland's mother in my diary long ago, and I knew those words were still in their red ink, on the same page, and on the same line of paper. He must have saw it when he skimmed the pages.

As heavenly as it sounded to be with him everyday, I couldn't. Even if I wanted to, my father would never even think to allow it.

I sighed. "I still can't, Kade. I've been dealing with a lot of shit for a long time, and this won't break me down, either. Besides, we're not even together right now, or..." I bit on my lip. "At least I don't think we are."

He sat up at this, eyebrows raised at me. "What do you mean?"

I raised up too, letting the blanket fall from me. "I mean...Kade, let's be serious here."

"Like I'm trying to be," he said in a tense tone.

I glanced at him sideways. "We have a lot, no, a ton of things that we haven't spoken about."

"And, we will. Later."

"But, how much later?" I motioned between us. "You keep putting this conversation off as if it will be answered without you, Kade. I don't want to talk about this, either, but we both know we—"

Kade scoffed. "Then, why in the fuck are we even sitting here, and having this conversation right now?"

"Because we need it for this to work!" I didn't mean to shout, but the mix of strayed emotions were only increasing my frustration.

He raised from the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. They ran loosely, stopping as he drew in a deep breath. Then, he stood, turning to face me. His lips were in a thin line, gazing down at me with frustration.

It had been one long week ever since he walked away from my questions. Now, I would get them.

"Ever since I came to your school, you've treated me like nothing," I began.

"Don't you think I know that?" he hissed toward my direction, eyes set hard on me. "I don't want to talk about this, right now. Today isn't the day to talk about this." My anger soared as he pulled on a hoodie, then glanced to the door. He was trying to escape.

I threw the blanket off of me entirely, standing. "Well, it's not about what you want! It's about what we need!" I huffed as the frustration threatened to blind me. "And, what we need is to face the fact that you treated me like shit for no reason, and you know it."