Page 92 of Prove Me Wrong
“What do you know, T?” Nathan asks, his eyes glued to something else, which I can only assume is the basketball game.
“Sinnett and I aren’t really on speaking terms, but I guess if you really want to find her, then I could give you his number,” Tatum offers.
I sit up once again.
I know I look desperate and needy right now, but I am. I’ve never been good at lying, and I won’t start now in front of my two best friends. “Please. I will do anything to find her, T.”
“All right.” She goes silent for a moment before a text comes through from her with a number. “Don’t abuse it, though, because I don’t want him to hate me for giving out his number without asking.”
“I’d never do that,” I murmur, adding his number to my list of contacts. “Why aren’t you speaking with him?”
Her lips twitch as she rubs the back of her neck. “It’s complicated.”
“Code for she’s not getting any…” Nathan chimes. I know if they were both in the room with me, they’d be fighting each other right in front of me.
Tatum groans out, “Shut it, Nate.”
He giggles before yelling something at the TV, and my eyes float up to see that they’ve called a foul.
“Look, I should probably leave you two to your game. I just wanted to check in with you.”
My mouth flicks up for a beat. “I appreciate it, T. And I hope it works out between you and Sinnett, whatever it might be.”
“Yeah…” she breathes out before sniffing and plastering on a smile that’s too big to be real. “I’ll speak with you both soon. I have things to do before I sleep.”
“Night, T,” I murmur, holding the phone in front of Jade’s face. She takes the phone and mumbles something. Tatum calls out goodnight and hangs up, leaving Nathan and I on the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sinnett and Tatum seeing each other?”
Nathan shrugs, returning his attention to the TV screen. “Not my secret to share, you know that.”
“Right.” I stifle a yawn. “Do you want to talk about your dad, Nate?”
He shakes his head again. I hate that he’s keeping most of this to himself, that he’s not opening up to me, but Nathan is sometimes a private guy. Sure, he tells me in great detail about the girls he gets with, but something like this is real and raw. I know it’s affecting him more than he’s letting on, but if he doesn't want to tell me, then I have to respect that.
“We don’t have to. How about we just watch the game together?”
“Yeah,” Nathan lets out, shuffling deeper into his couch. “I’d like that.”
Smiling, I pull Jade back onto my lap, wanting her warm snuggles as my mind trails back to Mia. She’s consuming my thoughts once again, but I want her to do more than that. I want her here with me again, beside me, smiling and tickling Jade, their giggles mixing, filling this now colder house.
“I’d like that, too,” I breathe, but I’m not talking to Nathan.
Chapter Thirty-Five
MIA
All I’ve wanted since I was little was to be loved and to love someone. To know what it feels like for someone to never give up on me, to always have my back. To fight to keep me. So why do I feel like my heart’s been ripped out of me and squeezed to the point of it splattering on the floor before my eyes? Right, because I was told those words that have scarred me for years.
Those loaded words that have weighed me down, belittled me, made me feel weak, vulnerable and used.
You’ll never be enough.
They echo like a broken record, repeating the same verse over and over, making my pulse rise and head pound as if a migraine is coming. My fingers dance along the piano, pressing keys as the melody surrounds me. It’s dark and jarring, just like my inner turmoil right now, the monster looming over me like a cloud darkening my thoughts. Breathing steadily, I focus on the music, giving my mind a break from thinking about him.
Noah has been on my mind for the last two days. I haven’t stopped crying, my body feeling as dry as a desert. My appetite has completely disappeared, my smile gone, exhaustion settling in my shoulders. Every time I smell something like Noah, my heart crumbles a little more like a delicate biscuit that breaks every time it’s picked up. Luckily, Mum andDad haven’t asked me about it, although I have been hiding from them since I got here.
With both of them still at work, I have time to come down and immerse myself in my music. It’s always what I need to take my mind off my troubles, to delve into the notes. I've been putting all my energy into nailing the rhythm instead of pacing around my room, wondering why Noah’s mum would say those things, trying to push us apart. I had to get away from him, even if he was being honest, telling me he had nothing to do with it. I couldn’t breathe next to him, seeing the way he pleaded with me. I had to run. It was too overwhelming.
My hands glide along the keys, successfully nailing Passacaglia by Handel and Halvorsen, another one of my favourite pieces when I want to mindlessly play. Pushing aside every thought, every emotion ribboning through me, I focus on one of my strengths, enjoying the slower bass notes resounding.
