Page 110 of Paper Hearts

Ender goes to say something and stops before taking another drink and swallowing. Then he stares at the floor, frowning and fiddling with the neck of the bottle. “Hads…”

“Yes?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he grunts quietly. He sighs in frustration and rubs his right hand across his jaw. “Jesus,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“I know.”

“I rehearsed what I wanted to say in my mind last night,” he says, obviously embarrassed. “And I was smoother than this.”

“Admitting anything you’ve kept to yourself for years is hard.”

“Why is it that I can say anything around you, but the truth? You deserve the truth.”

I shrug, knowing he’s not looking for an answer.

“I told Walker the bet was off after I kissed you that first time. I couldn’t do that to you. But I already had. It didn’t matter if I hadn’t followed through. The damage was already done. But Idid notsleep with your sisters.”

“I can’t believe you bet him that.” My shoulders roll forward. The fact that it was a bet sucked. I spent years wondering why, and now I have my answer. One I never considered, but I have one. I have closure. So why don’t I feel more relieved?

Ender frowns. “You have to remember I was a kid. It doesn’t make it right, but I was a kid. Young and dumb.”

“Did you have feelings for my sisters?”

“No.” His eyes trail over my face, watchful. “Never.” He moves closer, kneeling in front of me and strokes my hair with both hands, cradling my face. “Only you. That’s why after I kissed you, I couldn’t do it.”

“But why—”

He chuckles at my confusion. “It’s not as complicated as you think.”

I lean back away from him. “So you left because you couldn’t tell me the truth?” I’m talking in circles again.

“That’s part of it.” He tips his head, smiling, and reaches for my hips to hold me in place on the hale bale. Probably fearing I’m going to run away from him again. “But I didn’t think I could give you what you needed.”

I run my tongue over my dry lips. “You never gave yourself a chance to.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t scared to love you. That happened long before I knew what to do. I was scared foryouto loveme.”

Okay, so he made a stupid bet that summer, but why me? Out of all my sisters, and even Kamila, why was I different? Why wouldn’t he trust himself with me? “Why couldn’t you let me in but you let Kamila in? And other girls. I have no idea if I was a summer fling or if I really meant something to you.”

“I wasn’t with other girls,” he assures me. “Not after that third summer with you.”

“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.” I sound pitiful as I speak the words.

“I’m not telling you what you want to hear.” His eyes bore into mine, his voice dropping in both pitch and volume. “I’m telling you the fucking truth.”

“You weren’t with Kamila? You weren’t fucking out your demons with girls when I wasn’t around?”

“No.” He lifts his eyes and stares at me. I see the sadness hiding behind frustration. “Do you remember that time in my room? After you got drunk and kissed Carter?” I nod, and he sighs. “I never touched another girl after that night,” he tells me.

For a moment I watch him without the distorting haze of anger and resentment, and I see him as I used to—beautiful and special, remarkable and talented, damaged and hurting. His eyes catch mine, and suddenly I’m back to the day we first met. When those beautiful blues locked onto mine like no one else ever had. It’s like staring at Eddie when she took her first breath. I reach forward and touch his face, his thick beard. Ender knows the power he has on me. He counted on it back then. I hate that as soon as I see him, he can harness that much control. One kiss could demolish every defense I put in place. He knew that. I hated him for it, but hated myself more for feeling that way.

It was just Ender, but then again, it’sEnder. The boy who stole my heart at thirteen and never gave it back. The boy who was beautiful and damaged and never truly mine. The boy who pissed you off, teased you, and made you want to explode with raging anger until you kissed the hell out of him.

“Anything that happened between us was real. I know it might not seem that way, but it was real. You were never a bet to me. You were my friend.”

I believe him, even though I don’t want to, but still, the question remains, what now? “Why did you really come here, Ender?”

“To see if you’d be here,” he admits. “Arya gave me the book. I read it and knew I needed to set some things straight.”

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