Monday, September 15th
One week until school starts again, just one. Summer wasn't long enough for me.
Not for me and Bailey, or for me and Joshua.
I almost feel bad for making it clear to Josh that we can't date. I'm scared of attachment, and since I couldn't exactly explain something like that to him, I most likely came across sounding cold.
About my fear of love. It's mostly my dad's fault. When I saw how badly it hurt Mom when he left, something deep inside me broke. I'm deathly scared of being abandoned, and I dread when I'll have to make the choice.
To choose whether I'm more afraid of being forever alone, or of the possibility of being abandoned. It is the hardest decision I'm sure I'll ever be forced to make. But by pushing him away, I can stall it for a while at least.
I can't believe that I agreed to go with him to one last bucking this Saturday. It'll probably just raise his hopes, and that isn't nice of me at all.
I pull out my cellphone and pull our chat-log onto the screen. I type in a new message.
*I can't come this Saturday. Sorry.*
I try not to cry as the minutes pass and he still doesn't reply. Finally, my screen lights up and I hurry to read his message.
*Why?*
I grit my teeth.
*I just can't.*
There's so much more I want to add to this text.
I love you.
This is killing me.
This is the way it has to be with you and me.
I love you.
But I don't add anything. I just hit send.
His reply is slow. The delay suggests that he rewrote it several times.
*Okay.*
Just "okay". Not a "fine", in passive anger. Just okay. Okay.
Words kill the soul.
These words kill my soul.
I curl up on my patchwork quilt comforter and cry.
♡}¤{♡
Tears run down my face in a stay stream as I walk to Bailey's, dripping off my noise and chin, making a mud-drip trail along the dusty road, landing on the tops of my bare feet.
I can't stop.
I should go talk to him.
I shouldn't.
My head hurts.
I walk up to her front door and into her house without knocking, then run straight to her room. Her happy expression immediately turns to one of concern when she realizes that I'm crying.
"What's wrong, Leah?"
I collapse into her shoulder and sob.
She pats my back. "It's okay, whatever it is."
A fresh wave of tears begins when she says the word. Okay.
"It's Joshua, Bail."
She lowers me to the edge of her bed. "What?! If Josh hurt you, I swear-"
"No! He didn't touch me, its just-"
She frowns. "What?"
"I can't like him, Bail."
"What do you mean, 'you can't like him'?"
"I'm so scared! I don't want to get hurt!" I realize something that surprises me. "I'm scared that I'll hurt him. I don't want to lose him, Bail!"
"You won't, you won't." She soothes. "What did you do?"
I raise my puffy eyes guiltily. "I canceled the bucking on Saturday."
"Why?! I thought you enjoyed it!"
"I don't want to get his hopes up about us, and I thought it would be too encouraging."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"You need to call him and tell him you'll go."
"I can't!"
"Why?"
"I don't want to encourage him!"
"If he thinks you don't want him, he'll go find someone who does-"
"No!"
"-and there are plenty who do."
My heart drops, and I stain to hold back a rather painted cry.
Bailey groans. "Call him, Leah! Tell him you're scared! Let him know that you care! Be honest with him! He won't be like Erik was, I promise."
A shiver scurried up my spine. Erik. He was my first boyfriend, when I was fifteen, and he was seventeen. He was so sweet when it all started, but as things went on, different words grew to describe him better.
Manipulative.
Cruel.
Violent.
Abusive.
A gang member.
He spread rumors that I was immoral around the while school when he forced himself on me and I fought back. The thought of him still makes me want to hide.
"Just tell him! Come on, Leah! You're going to break his heart!"
She's right of course. I should just be honest.
He'll laugh. He'll see you for the coward that you really are. Scared of being loved. Humph.
Shut up. I'm not scared of love. I'm scared of rejection.
Rejection. The word shudders through me like snow down my shirt.
But I know Bailey's right.
I look over at her, and try not to feel the achy feel of fear that has become very familiar to me .
"Okay. I'll go see him tomorrow. I'll talk to him."
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Iced Tea
Teen Fiction"I wouldn't trade anything for the love we had, but it..it..." I break down, and look away. I can't do this. I can't. It still hurts to much. My wounds are too raw. That love is still here. And even though, sometimes I catch myself wishing, things w...
