Holding On (25 page)

How did he get my
number?

Natalie: Are you all right? what
happened?

Natalie sent me that after Ben? Did she already know what
had happened? Does she know about my “relationship” with Ethan?

I
was
tempted
to
text
him
back,
but
I
didn’t
have
any
words
to
reply to
him.
I
understood
that
he
was
sorry,
that
he
now
realizes
that
I
had
no idea that he and Natalie had been dating
but…

Okay,
now I had to deal with Brad on top of everything else.
This night
was
getting
better
and
better.
Why
is
it
when
it
rains
it
pours? Can’t I catch a break, even a small
one?

It
was
funny
that
he
signed
his
name
again
assuming
that
I
wouldn’t store his number in my phone. Kind of cute actually. No
expectations. The last thing I needed right now was to turn this triangle I was
caught in into a
square.

What
the
hell?
I
was
not
going
to
call
him.
I
didn’t
want
to
speak
to him.
If
I
had
wanted
to
continue
our
conversation,
I
would
have
done
so
in the bathroom. Who did he think he was? Demanding that I call
him was not the best way to get me to call. How about asking me nicely?
I was
angry,
and I realized it was all because of
him.

I
sent
out
a
quick
text
to
Ben
to
let
him
know
I
was
home
and
that
I had
a
nice
time
with
him.
I
told
him
I
would
call
him
tomorrow
if
I
was
feeling
better.
I
got
a
reply
instantly,
asking
if
I
wanted
to
go
to
lunch
on
Sunday.
I told him yes and that I would call him
tomorrow.

I
tossed
my
phone
on
the
bed
and
stared
at
it
for
a
minute,
deciding whether
or
not
I
should
call
Ethan.
I
was
angry
enough
to
give
him
a
piece of my mind but almost to the point that I was afraid I wouldn’t be
able to
get
my
point
across
clearly.
I
was
almost
beyond
angry
at
this
point.
I think
it
had
more
to
do
with
the
fact
that
now
that
I
knew
I
couldn’t
have him, that I wouldn’t let myself have him. I was disappointed in a
way.

I
snagged
my
phone
and
turned
it
off.
I
would
deal
with
it
in
the morning.
It
was
close
to
ten,
and
at
that
point,
I
just
wanted
to
go
to
bed. I needed to clear my head, and talking was not going to be the way
to get
that
done.
I
knew
I
wouldn’t
be
able
to
sleep,
so
after
I
changed
into some pajamas, I went downstairs and popped in my favorite movie
of all
times,
My
Best
Friend’s
Wedding
.
How
ironic
in
a
totally
screwed
up kind of
way.

I
was
just
about
to
hit
Play
when
I
heard
a
faint
knock
at
the
door.
I wasn’t expecting anyone. I walked over to the window and pulled
back the shade just a bit so I could see on the front porch. Crap! Why was
he here? Oh yeah, I never called him back.
Crap!

I
didn’t
want
to
let
him
in,
but
I
knew
he
would
just
continue
to knock
since
he
knew
I
was
home.
As
I
turned
the
knob,
my
hands
started
to
shake
a
little
and
my
heart
began
to
race.
I
was
a
little
scared,
but more than anything, I was nervous. I was angry at him. I was angry
at myself.
I
was
angry
that
I
was
in
this
position
at
all.
I
just
wanted
the drama to
end.

“What
are
you
doing
here?”
This
was
how
I
greeted
him.
You
could hear the irritation and anger in my voice loud and
clear.
“We
need to talk, and you turned your phone
off.”

“It
died.”

“No, it didn’t. I know you turned it off to try avoiding me, but
it’s
not going to work. So are you going to invite me in, or are you going
to come out
here?”

“Neither.
I
am
going
to
watch
a
movie
and
go
to
bed.
You
need
to
go back to your party—wait, what about your party? Aren’t you
supposed
to
be
hosting?
Who’s
watching
your
house?”
All
of
the
anger
left
my voice, and my concern snuck in. Crap! Why did I have to care so
much about
him?

“You
say
that
a
lot
you
know,
and
I
don’t
think
you
even
realize
it.” When I looked up, he was smiling at me. I was thinking out
loud again, and I really needed to stop doing that if I ever wanted to have a private thought
again.

“Look,
you
need
to
get
back
to
your
party,
and
I
am
getting
cold,
so
I
will
see
you
later.”
I
attempted
to
close
the
door,
but
he
stopped
it
with
his
foot.
I
opened
it
back
up
and
put
my
hand
on
my
hip,
trying
my
best to scream at him with just one
look.

“I closed the party down, and I am not leaving here until we talk. I have all night to wait, but I would much rather do it inside where
it’s
warmer since I didn’t bring a jacket in my mad rush to get
here.”

Mad rush? He closed down his party so he could come talk to
me?

I glanced over at the clock to see that it wasn’t even ten thirty
yet, and
I
knew
that
his
actions
would
be
the
talk
of
the
school
Monday
morning.
Great!
Now
there
was
even
more
drama
that
I
was
partially
the cause of. I felt bad for causing him so much trouble, and it was
chilly outside. I stepped aside and motioned him in. After I closed the door, I walked over and plopped on the couch without even looking at
him.

A
few
minutes
later,
he
was
sitting
next
to
me
in
a
comfortable silence, watching the movie. I yawned a couple of times about
partway through,
and
before
I
knew
it,
I
was
cuddled
against
his
chest
and
failing at not falling
asleep.

I
woke
up
the
next
morning
still
on
the
couch,
still
cuddled
in Ethan’s
arms.
We
were
lying
side
by
side,
and
our
legs
were
intertwined. I
could
feel
his
even
breathing
and
his
heartbeat,
my
hand
resting
on
his chest. I tried to lie still, but my bladder was full, and I needed to get
up. Slowly I began to untangle myself and crawl off the couch
without
waking
him.
I
wondered
where
my
mom
was
when
I
heard
her
humming in
the
kitchen.
She
was
making
breakfast.
She
must
have
seen
us
on
the couch
last
night,
but
she
didn’t
wake
me
up
or
kick
him
out.
It
was probably because we were both completely
dressed.

When
I
walked
out
of
the
bathroom,
I
heard
Ethan
and
my
mom talking.
So
much
for
not
waking
him
up.
When
I
entered
the
kitchen,
his back was to me, and he was blowing on his coffee. I walked past
him and
helped
myself
to
a
cup
without
saying
a
word
to
him.
I
think
my mom felt the uncomfortable silence and excused herself, asking me
to flip the pancakes when they were
ready.