Page 77 of A Good Book

Every time he rubbed or tugged at his ears, as if it were nothing more than water clogging them, a lump swelled in my throat. I would’ve givenanythingto take away his pain.

After finding a spot at the far end of the mall’s parking lot, I looped my arm around his and we headed inside. Ben’s gaze ping-ponged in all directions. Music played and the Salvation Army bell ringer chimed behind us. With two days until Christmas, it was packed. Armed with a pen and small spiral notepad, I wrote:

Who do you need to shop for?

He shrugged.

Everyone?

He nodded.

We weaved in and out of stores. I managed to find clothes for my mom and sisters and two new ties for my dad. Whenever I held up something for one of Ben’s parents or his sister, he just shrugged.

I frowned and made the executive decision on what to get.

After the presents were purchased, we grabbed lunch in the food court. No matter what I did or said, he looked miserable. As I sipped my drink, his gaze continued to survey our surroundings.

I thought I was a good kisser, but I think it’s just you.

I tapped his arm with my pen, drawing his attention to my notepad.

He read it and eyed me.

I bit my lower lip to control my grin, but it still wasn’t enough to get him to smile.

What we did over Thanksgiving—I want to do it again.

I felt an unavoidable blush, but he still remained straight-faced except his lips parted and he wet them.

Without clothes.

I didn’t care that everyone could see my red cheeks or that I needed to unbutton my jacket because just writing those words made me hot.

Ben narrowed his eyes a fraction and glanced over my shoulder returning a slight headshake.

I tried to hide my disappointment.

Did you not like it?

Again, he shrugged. I hated his stupid shrugs and dismissively quick glances.

Did he know how much I was putting myself out there for him? Exposing all my insecurities.

I have to use the restroom.

I scooted back in my chair, hiked my purse over my shoulder, and escaped before he could see my tears. After taking a few minutes in the stall to gain my composure, I washed my hands, and returned to the food court. But there was another couple at our table.

No Ben.

No bags.

I looked in both directions, but he was nowhere in sight. I headed in one direction until I reached the far end of the mall, then I walked in the other direction, scanning everywhere to find him. Panic gripped me. He couldn’t hear. Why did he leave me? Where did he go? How would he communicate with people if he needed to? I couldn’t even go to the information desk to see if they would announce his name because he couldn’t hear it.

People stared at me as I aimlessly darted in every direction wiping my tears. I had to call my mom or his mom. He was just gone.

As I waited in line for a payphone, wiping my tears, I looked out the glass entrance doors and there he was, leaned against the building with one leg propped up, the bags on the ground beside him, and his gaze pointed toward the parking lot.

“Why did you leave?” I yelled, on my way to him.

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