Page 118 of Next to Everything We Wanted
“What about how she feels right now?”
“What about it?” My words boomed through the quiet house, and I hoped I hadn’t woken my parents up. “She broke up with me. She didn’t want to date a liar. I knew deep down this would eventually happen. We’re from two different worlds.”
Asher frowned. “What if she misses you? Didn’t she send you a text?”
“What—Did you look through my phone?”
A mischievous smile lifted his lips.
I groaned. “Please don’t tell me you texted her back.”
“I didn’t read the whole thing. Just the pop-up. You’ve answered every message but that one.”
“Asher, I don’t have time for this.”
He pulled something out of his pocket. “Here.”
I grunted as my phone appeared. “Seriously?”
He placed my phone on my palm. “Just read it. Maybe your headache will go away.”
“Fine.” I sighed before looking at the screen and tapping the unread message.
Sienna
Hey, sorry I’ve only been checking in on you through Everett. I know you don’t want to talk to me after what happened, and I don’t want to be selfish. I’m sorry for how I reacted. Just please let me talk to you one more time before you cut me out of your life.
My chest tightened. She’d sent it two nights ago, around the time that we were supposed to perform at What Do You Bean, yet it felt like I’d avoided the message for months. Her sad tone made my heart crumble, but I reminded my heart that it wasn’t allowed to feel anything for her anymore. It’d gotten me hurt too many times.
“Okay,” I told Asher, stuffing my phone in my pocket. “I saw it.”
“So? Aren’t you going to answer her?”
“No. I’m going to bed.” I grabbed my orange juice and spun on my heel.
“I don’t like this.”
I stopped, facing Asher again. “Sorry, what?”
“I don’t like whoever you’ve turned into. You’re not my big brother who taught me how to play the guitar and complains that I’m going to be half a foot taller than him by the time I’m in high school.”
“I wouldn’t sayhalfa foot.” I smiled, despite the weight crushing my chest. “Maybe five inches?”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Gavin Hanville cares about how others feel while still taking care of himself.”
“What are you talking about? I care about how others feel.”
“You’re turning into the uptight jerk you were when you were famous. You don’t want to deal with anything real.”
“You don’t understand anything!” I huffed. “You know what? I’m not fighting with a little kid.”
“I may be a kid, but I watch you enough to know you’re screwing things up.” Hurt rose in his voice as if he was about to cry. “You’re hurting yourself and everyone you love when you don’t have to. That’s what I don’t understand.” He pushed past me, bumping me into the wall.
I stood still as I watched him run back to his room. I wanted to be mad at him and tell him he knew nothing about my life and needed to stop absorbing whatever media was making him act like my therapist.
Dapper nudged me with his head, and I rubbed him. He seemed to be the only person who didn’t think I was a hot mess these days. The only person I’d never hurt.
Why did everything have to be my fault? I couldn’t control how other people felt. I did my best in every situation.
