Read Losing Hope Page 8


  Hope.

  But I didn’t.

  Well, I’m still not so sure I didn’t, but I’m more sure that she isn’t Hope than sure that she is. Does that even make sense? I mean, the second I saw her I was positive it was her. But when I realized she didn’t recognize me, I thought maybe I was wrong or she was pretending or . . . I don’t know. I just started doubting myself. Then I acted sort of stalkerish and crazy so she showed me her ID, which was really dumb of her if you consider how stalkerish I was acting. But her ID proved she wasn’t Hope, which crushed me, but only for a couple of hours. Because when I went running I ran into her again thanks to fate or coincidence or divine intervention or maybe you had something to do with it. Whatever or whoever made it happen, she was there, standing in front of our house, looking all beautiful and shit. Jesus, she looked good, Les.

  I’m sure you want to hear that, right?

  Anyway, so I’m convinced now that if she really is Hope, she would have remembered me. Especially after I told her mother that my name was Dean Holder. I glanced down at Sky to see if my first name rang a bell but based on her lack of reaction, it didn’t ring a bell at all, so there’s no way she could be the same girl.

  Do you want to know the strangest part, Les? The part of this entire day that has thrown me for the biggest loop?

  I don’t even want her to be Hope.

  If she’s Hope, all of the drama and the stress and the media attention would surround us again and I don’t want that for her. This girl seems happy and healthy and not at all how I expected our Hope to be if we ever found her. So I’m glad Sky isn’t Hope and Hope isn’t Sky.

  I had Daniel do some investigating and I learned a little bit about her. She’s lived in this area for years and has been homeschooled by her mom, who seems really nice, by the way.

  Daniel also said she’s not officially dating Grayson, so that’s a plus. I’m still not sure how she’s connected to him, because according to Daniel she’s definitely connected to him in some way. I’m hoping to stop that before it becomes anything significant, though.

  Sorry I’m rambling. It’s just been the type of day you don’t expect at all when you wake up for it. I’ll let you know how tomorrow goes. I owe Daniel a day of school.

  P.S. Sky had a black eye today. She never said what actually happened, but you know how paranoid I am about anything remotely connected to Grayson. I’ll never forget that day you came home with those bruises on your arm, Les. You begged me not to kill him because I swear to you, I would have if you hadn’t sworn that he didn’t do it.

  I don’t know if you were telling the truth when you said it happened during your athletics class. I don’t know if Grayson is capable of doing something like that. But seeing Sky with that bruise under her eye had me just as worked up as when I thought Grayson had hurt you. And you aren’t here for me to protect anymore, so I feel this unrelenting need to protect Sky and I don’t even know her.

  Don’t tell Daniel this, not that you could, but I would have shown up to school tomorrow whether he made it a condition or not. I need to see how Sky and Grayson interact with my own two eyes so I can determine whether I actually need to kill him this time.

  H

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  I’m ten minutes early when I reach her house, so I take a seat on the curb and stretch. After leaving here yesterday, I felt like me offering to run with her might have been a little forward. It is out of my way and I don’t usually run this much in a day, but I didn’t know how else I would see her again.

  I hear her walking up behind me, so I spin around and stand up. “Hey, you.”

  I expect her to smile or return a greeting of some sort, but instead she eyes me up and down with an uncomfortable frown. I shrug it off, hoping she’s just not a morning person.

  “You need to stretch first?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head. “Already did.”

  I’m curious if the solemn attitude is because she’s sore from her fall yesterday. Her black eye is still prominently displayed, but her cheek doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would. I reach out and run my thumb over the scrape on her face. “Doesn’t look so bad. You sore?” She shakes her head no. “Good. You ready?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  Three words is all the conversation I get from her? She turns and we both begin running in silence. I’ve never run with a girl before but I expected there to be a little more back and forth. I can’t tell from the guarded greeting we just had in her front yard if she’s uncomfortable around me, or if the quietness is actually a sign of comfort. It could go either way.

  The tension lessens once I fall into step behind her. It’s easier to get away with not speaking when I’m not running side by side with her. I just have no idea what to say. I’m not much of a talker to begin with, but being in her presence suppresses the conversational side of me even more. I guess if I really want to get anywhere with her, I need to suck it up. I speed up and step back into stride with her.

  “You better try out for track,” I say. “You’ve got more stamina than most of the guys from the team last year.”

  She shakes her head and continues to focus on the sidewalk in front of us. “I don’t know if I want to,” she says. “I don’t really know anyone at school. I planned on trying out, but so far most of the people at school are sort of . . . mean. I don’t really want to be subjected to them for longer periods of time under the guise of a team.”

  I hate that she’s been in school for a day and she already knows how mean everyone is. I wonder what the hell they did to make her first day so bad?

  “You’ve only been in public school for a day. Give it time. You can’t expect to be homeschooled your whole life, then walk in the first day with a ton of new friends.”

  I feel bad telling her the exact opposite of what I really feel. If I was being completely honest, I’d tell her to go back to homeschooling, because she had it made before she entered public school. I turn to look at her but she’s not running next to me. I spin around and she is stopped several feet behind me with her hands on her hips. I rush to her.

  “Are you okay? Are you dizzy?” I hold her shoulders in case she feels faint again. I’d feel like the ultimate jackass if I just let her bust the pavement like I did yesterday.

  She shakes her head no, then pushes my hands off her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she says.

  She’s pissed about something. I try to think of what I might have said, but nothing seemed offensive. “Did I say something wrong?”

  She drops her eyes to the pavement and starts walking again, so I follow her. “A little,” she says with a miffed tone. “I was halfway joking about the stalking yesterday, but you admitted to looking me up on Facebook right after meeting me. Then you insist on running with me, even though it’s out of your way. Now you somehow know how long I’ve been in public school? And that I was homeschooled? I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little unnerving.”

  Shit. What the hell is wrong with me? How do I admit that I learned most of what I know about her based on overhearing Grayson at a party and through speculative rumors from Daniel? She doesn’t need to know that. I don’t want her to know that.

  I sigh and continue walking toward her house with her. “I asked around,” I say. “I’ve lived here since I was ten, so I have a lot of friends. I was curious about you.”

  She focuses on me as if she’s trying to figure out how I know so much about her. I’m not about to admit the things I overheard Grayson say, because I don’t want to hurt her. But I also don’t want to admit that I begged Daniel for more information, because I don’t want to scare her off. But based on the skeptical look spread across her face, she’s already formed a good amount of distrust in me.

  I take her by the elbow and she stops walking. I turn her so that she’s facing me.

  “Sky. I think we got off on the wrong foot at the store yesterday. And the talk about stalking, I swear, it was a joke. I don’t want
you to feel uncomfortable around me. Would it make you feel better if you knew more about me? Ask me something and I’ll tell you. Anything.”

  “If I ask you something, will you be honest?”

  I look her hard in the eyes. “That’s all I’ll ever be,” I say. And I intend to be completely honest with her, unless I think it’ll hurt her.

  “Why did you drop out of school?”

  I sigh, wishing she had asked me something a little less complicated. I should have known things wouldn’t be simple with her, though.

  I start walking again. “Technically, I haven’t dropped out yet.”

  “Well you obviously haven’t been in over a year. I’d say that’s dropping out.”

  That comment makes me curious if she’s heard the rumors about me. Of course I’ve been to school in the past year, it just wasn’t this one. But she didn’t ask about the rumored stint in juvi, so I’m not going to offer up unnecessary information.

  “I just moved back home a few days ago,” I say. “My mother and I had a pretty shitty year last year, so I moved in with my dad in Austin for a while. I’ve been going to school there, but felt like it was time to come back home. So here I am.”

  She squints like she’s trying to scowl at me, but the expression she makes is too adorable to find intimidating. I keep my smile in check, though, because I can tell she’s taking this school thing seriously. “None of that explains why you decided to drop out, rather than just transfer back.”

  She’s right, but only because I really don’t know the answer to her question.

  “I don’t know. To be honest, I’m still trying to decide what I want to do. It’s been a pretty fucked-up year. Not to mention I hate this school. I’m tired of the bullshit and sometimes I think it would be easier to just test out.”

  She stops dead in her tracks again and glares at me. “That’s a crap excuse.”

  “It’s crap that I hate high school?”

  “No. It’s crap that you’re letting one bad year determine your fate for the rest of your life. You’re nine months away from graduation, so you drop out? It’s just . . . it’s stupid.”

  She’s really taking this seriously. I laugh, even though I’m trying really hard not to. “Well, when you put it so eloquently.”

  She crosses her arms and huffs. “Laugh all you want. You quitting school is just giving in. You’re proving everyone that’s ever doubted you right.”

  Her eyes drop to the tattoo on my arm. I’ve never wanted to hide it until this moment, but something about her reading it seems like an invasion of privacy in a way. Maybe because I was so certain yesterday that she was half the reason for the tattoo on my arm. But now that I know she’s not, I really don’t want her asking about it. “You’re gonna drop out and show the world just how hopeless you really are? Way to stick it to ’em.”

  I look down at the tattoo. She has no idea what the meaning is behind it and I realize that. But her assumption that it means anything other than what it means sort of pisses me off. I don’t want to explain it to her and I certainly don’t want to be judged by someone who seems to be receiving her own fair share of judgments. Rather than stick around and allow her to decipher me even more, I nudge my head toward her house. “You’re here,” I say flatly. I turn around and head toward home without looking back at her. No need to get too detailed with her, anyway, until I find out more about her relationship with Grayson. And in order to do that, I need to hurry up and get back to my house so I can shower and change in time for my first and possibly only day of senior year.

  • • •

  This is a large school, which is why I didn’t expect to actually have a class with her, much less the first one. And with Mr. Mulligan, to top it off.

  She didn’t seem too happy to see me, either. And the fact that she just practically ran past me to get out of the classroom doesn’t seem to bode well. I pick up my textbook and make my way out of the classroom. Rather than search for my next class, I head straight to find her, instead.

  She’s facing her locker, switching books. I walk up behind her but pause for a moment before speaking to her. I want to give her a chance to get what she needs from her locker, because I’m hoping I’ll be walking her to her next class.

  “Hey, you,” I say optimistically. There’s a pause.

  “You came,” she says, her voice cool and composed. She turns around to face me and just seeing her eyes again makes me smile. I lean against the locker next to hers and tilt my head against the cold metal. I eye her outfit for a second, taking in the fact that she somehow looks even better after a shower.

  “You clean up nice. Although, the sweaty version of you isn’t so bad, either,” I say, smiling at her. I’m trying to ease some of the tension rolling off her, but nothing seems to be working in my favor.

  “Are you here stalking me or did you actually re-enroll?” she asks.

  A joke. She made a joke.

  “Both,” I say, tapping my fingers against the metal. I’m still smiling at her but she won’t maintain eye contact with me for more than two seconds. She shifts her feet and looks nervously around us.

  “Well, I need to get to class,” she says, her voice monotone. “Welcome back.”

  She’s being weird. “You’re being weird.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns back to her locker. “I’m just surprised to see you here,” she says unconvincingly.

  “Nope,” I say. “It’s something else. What’s wrong?”

  My persistence seems to be paying off because she sighs and presses her back against the locker and looks up at me. “You want me to be honest?”

  “That’s all I ever want you to be.”

  She purses her lips together. “Fine,” she says. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. You flirt and say things like you have intentions with me that I’m not willing to reciprocate. And you’re . . .”

  She doesn’t want to give me the wrong idea? Who is this and what the hell did she do with the girl who was blatantly flirting with me last night? I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m what?” I say, challenging her to finish her thought.

  “You’re . . . intense. Too intense. And moody. And a little bit scary. And there’s the other thing . . . I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

  And there it is. She’s been fed the lies and now I’m left to have to defend myself to the one person I incorrectly assumed might empathize with me.

  “What other thing?”

  “You know,” she says, darting her eyes to the floor.

  I take a step toward her and place my hand against the locker beside her head. “I don’t know, because you’re skirting around whatever issue it is you have with me like you’re too afraid to say it. Just say it.”

  Her eyes grow wide and I immediately feel guilty for being so harsh with her. It just frustrates me no end that she would feed into their bullshit. The same bullshit that surrounds her.

  “I heard about what you did,” she blurts out. “I know about the guy you beat up. I know about you being sent to juvi. I know that in the two days I’ve known you, you’ve scared the shit out of me at least three times. And since we’re being honest, I also know that if you’ve been asking around about me, then you’ve probably heard about my reputation, which is more than likely the only reason you’re even making an effort with me. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not screwing you. I don’t want you thinking anything will happen between us besides what’s already happening. We run together. That’s it.”

  Wow.

  I was expecting her to hear the rumors about me, but I wasn’t expecting her to think I believe the rumors about her. So that’s why her guard is up? Because she thinks I heard the rumors and now I’m just trying to screw her?

  I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. But Jesus, not like that. The fact that she even feels this way only makes me want to hug her. The thought of anyone intentionally trying to get close to her for tha
t sole reason pisses me off. It doesn’t help matters that Grayson is standing next to her now.

  Where the hell did he come from? And why the hell does he have his arm around her like he owns her?

  “Holder,” Grayson says. “Didn’t know you were coming back.”

  They’re the first words he’s spoken directly to me since the night before Les died. I’m afraid if I look at him I’ll lose it, so I keep my eyes trained hard on Sky’s. Unfortunately, my eyes can’t seem to stop looking at the hand that’s still gripping her waist. The hand that Sky hasn’t slapped away. The hand that has obviously been around that same waist before. The same hand that used to be around Les.

  This entire situation is too ironic. So much so, I crack a smile. Just my luck.

  I straighten up and keep my eyes locked on the hand around Sky’s waist. “Well, I’m back,” I say. I can’t watch this for another second. That familiar feeling of wanting to rip his fucking hand off has returned tenfold.

  I walk away and make it a few feet down the hall before I turn around and face Sky again. “Track tryouts are Thursday after school. Go.”

  I don’t wait for her response. I walk to my locker and exchange books, then head to my next class. I don’t know why, though. I’m pretty sure I won’t be coming back tomorrow.

  • • •

  “Hey, dickweed. What’s this sudden infatuation with Sky?” Daniel asks as we make our way toward the cafeteria.

  “It’s nothing,” I say, attempting to brush it off. “I met her yesterday and was just curious about her. But apparently she’s with Grayson, so . . . whatever.”

  Daniel raises an eyebrow, but says nothing about the Grayson comment. He pushes through the cafeteria doors and we walk to our table. I take a seat and scan the crowd, searching for her.

  “You gonna eat today?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nah. I don’t really feel like it.” I lost my appetite this morning as soon as Grayson’s arm went around Sky’s waist.