Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 29 | I Hate You All So Much

If I was your typical, melodramatic seventeen-year-old girl, that would really piss me off and I’d probably start some huge fight with Graham when he gets back. But because I’m not your typical, melodramatic seventeen-year-old girl, I’m not going to do that. I’m simply going to close the text then put the phone down and pretend that I never even saw the text.

Why? Because it doesn’t matter. Graham’s with me— not Carson— and that says a lot, I think. Obviously, if he did love her as much as she seems to think he does, he’d be with her and not me. But he’s not. I think the one good thing that came out of the whole Flynn thing is that it’s really taught me how not to cry over spilled milk. Graham and Carson were a thing. They happened and I accept that, but if Carson thinks that she’s worming her way back into Graham’s life, she’s crazier than I thought she was.

So that’s what I do, I put Graham’s phone down and wipe the message from my memory. Or at least, I try to wipe it from my memory. I’m not going to get upset over something that doesn’t matter. It’s stupid and time consuming. I realize then that Graham’s been gone for a good five minutes or so and if the breakfast place is up the street, I need to get ready so that we can leave on time. Also, lying here under the covers all naked is just a little bit weird.

I get out of the bed then and pull on Graham’s button down shirt from last night, since it’s the article of clothing nearest to me and also because it’s super comfortable because it’s really big on me and goes down almost to my knees. I button the shirt all the way up and then walk across the room, picking my robe up from the floor along with the lingerie from Victoria’s Secret. I pick up Graham’s stuff too and since I don’t see a laundry hamper in here, I just put the clothes on the bed and make my way out of the room, to the bathroom.

When I get to the bathroom, I find my duffel bag still on the countertop just where I left it last night. I unzip the bag and reach in, pulling my phone out and powering it on. While I wait for it to come on (because for some odd reason, iPhones take forever and a day to come on) I take my hairbrush out of the bag and pull it through my hair a few times because right now, it closely resembles a birds nest. When my phone finally comes on a couple of minutes later, I sigh as it starts vibrating like crazy as everything starts flooding in at once.

Twenty-one missed calls, thirty-four text messages, and eighteen voicemails. But really, I’m not surprised— this is actually so like my friends and family.

Fifteen of the twenty-one missed calls are from my brother (shocker, I know) and the remaining six are from my mother. The last call that came from her phone came in at 2:05 this morning though, so hopefully that’s when she went to sleep and maybe she hasn’t tried to call me back because she’s at work. At least, I hope that’s what it is. If my mother is at home when I get back, she’s definitely going to murder me. If she’s at work though, maybe she’ll have simmered down by the time she gets home tonight. Sixteen of the texts are from Aspen, ten are from Sienna, and eight are from Piper. They mostly all say the same sorts of things— “Did you have sex?” and “How’s everything going?” and “Did you find the condom?” The last text message is from Aspen, obviously.

I don’t reply to any of the texts because I feel like if I do, then one of my friends will try to strike up a conversation, trying to figure out all the details of last night, and I need to get ready to leave before Graham gets back so that we can leave on time. So, I go to my music and find 1989 and select the option to let the album play and then I take Graham’s shirt off and get into the shower. I’m not in there long though— I’m out halfway through Out Of The Woods actually.

When i get out of the shower, I get dressed in my underwear and what I brought to wear from home— a pair of skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a black hoodie that says across the front in white letters: I’D RATHER BE EATING PIZZA. Once I’m dressed, I brush my teeth and put on my normal amount of make-up. After I’m done, I stuff everything back into the bag and then sling the strap across my shoulder, leaving out of the bathroom and making my way back to Graham’s bedroom.