Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
“She good?” he asks, his face etched with concern. He knows as well as I do that she’s gotten better, especially when it comes to dealing with what happened to her as a kid, but her panic attacks will always be something she battles.
“Yep, she just needed a hug.” He nods and sits back.
Kellin leans into my shoulder. “How long’s this going to take. I hate these things.” He adjusts his tie for the hundredth time since we’ve been here.
“You just sat through my graduation last week. You know how long it takes. And if you don’t want the tie on then take it off.”
“Mom will kick my ass,” he hisses.
“Don’t say ass.”
“Dude, I’ll be eighteen in three months.” He glances behind us at Misty, checking to see if she’s paying attention. She is, even though she’s pretending not to. “Back off me. I hear that shit enough from Mom.”
“So she scares you enough to keep the tie, but not enough to make you watch your mouth at my fiancé’s college graduation?”
“She didn’t hear me, but she’ll notice the damn tie in a heartbeat.”
“I do hear you, Kellin Montgomery Patel,” Mom says leaning around Guy. “Don’t make me come over there.”
I point at Kel and laugh. “Ohhh.”
“Shut the hell up,” he whisper yells as he shoves my arm. I nearly fall off the chair because I’m too busy laughing at him.
“Knock it off,” Mom scolds. “I don’t want to miss anything.” Nothing is even happening yet, but I settle back and look down to find Hope. As if she feels my gaze on her, she turns around and looks up. Our eyes lock and she smiles widely. Mom waves at her excitedly.
Mom and I went through a rough patch for awhile. She wasn’t happy that I stayed in Ohio. That’s putting it mildly. It got really ugly when Mom got Jenny and Alec involved, but in the end, it was for the best. After they got over the hurt and shock, they’ve been nothing but supportive. But things with Mom got worse when she found out Hope moved in with me after turning eighteen. She almost didn’t let Kellin come visit anymore. It took a huge blow out, a major heart to heart between Mom and Hope, and a few family-counseling sessions for her to agree to a weekend visit.
Over the last four years, Mom and Hope have become close. I don’t know if it was the realization that I wasn’t giving Hope up, or it might have been the counseling, or possibly that Hope decided to go to college at Vandercook, here in Chicago, majoring in music education. I guess it was the combination of it all. I know the main reason she chose to attend here was for me. For me, for Kellin, for Mom.
I followed her, obviously. Did the community thing and got my degree in fine arts with an emphasis in photography and a secondary degree in business. Hope wants to open a center that specializes in art therapy for children. Knowing how much music helped Hope, at some point, this became my dream as well. It’s a while off, but we are well on our way.
First we have to get through this ceremony. Then there’s the wedding next month. Same church Mom and Dad got married in. I don’t know who’s more excited about it, me or Hope, but I can’t wait for her to become Mrs. Hope Love-Patel. Isn’t that the greatest damn name?
When they call Hope up to accept her diploma, I whistle as I click pictures. She looks up at me and grins beautifully as she opens her gown. She’s wearing her
Beatles
tee shirt over the dress she’s supposed to be wearing. The same shirt she was wearing when I fell in love with her. She throws her hand up in the “rock on” symbol as she holds her diploma high above her head.
I never thought I could love someone so much, but sometimes never is a distorted perception, because I continuously find myself falling deeper in love with her every day.
Hope and Mason’s playlist:
Wondering by: Good Charlotte
Dark Side by
: Kelly Clarkson
Animal by: Neon Trees
Amazing by: Aerosmith
How to Love by: Lil Wayne
Crash into Me by: The Dave Mathews Band
More than Words by: Extreme
Looks like Love by: Needtobreathe
When She Begins by: Social Distortion
The Only Exception by
: Paramore
Love Like Woe by: The Ready Set
Lost In You by: Three Days Grace
Down by: Blink 182
Truly Madly Deeply by: Savage Garden
After Midnight by: Blink 182
You Make Me Smile by:Uncle Kracke
r
Say When by: The Fra
y
I Wanna by:
The All-American Rejects
Blackbird by: The Beatles
And Then He Kissed Me by: The Crystals
Paradise by: Craig Owens
Demons by: Imagine Dragons
Marry Me by: Train
Lovesong by: Adele
Kissing Wounds (Mason’s song):
I must have been sleeping
B
efore I met you.
My heart was unbeating. My eyes unseeing.
I didn’t want to feel. Didn’t care to.
I was deaf, and I was blind
.
I passed each day.
Each day passed me.
Just colors and sounds, t
ime and amounts.
I’m done counting days.
Now, because of you, I’m making days count.
You’ve turned wounds into wisdom.
Teaching me to learn from my mistakes.
Which ones are mine and which were out, out of my control.
I was a shadow.
Cold and dark.
Angry and alone.
Until your lips found mine. Now I have a goal.
You woke me from the nightmare.
Made me feel more than pain and loneliness.
I love the way you frighten me.
I want your kind of scary. Every minute of every day. Bliss.
I only count minutes now, until your lips find mine once again. Until your lips find mine.
Sometimes when I’m kissing you I forget.
I forget there’s a world out there.
I forget that I’m a part of it.
I forget that I’ve been hurt.
All I know is you.
The pressure of your hands.
The softness of your tongue.
The scent of your skin stuck on my shirt.
You hold the pieces of me together and I don’t want that to end.
I don’t want to fall apart again. Not again.
You’ve turned wounds into wisdom.
Teaching me to learn from my mistakes.
Which ones are mine and which were out of my control.
I was a shadow.
Cold and dark.
Angry and alone.
Until your lips found mine. Reaching my soul.
You woke me from the nightmare.
You made me feel more than pain and loneliness.
I love the way I’m not scared.
I want you. Every minute of every day for forever.
I only count minutes now, until your lips find mine once again. Again.
You don’t need to talk.
There’s no need for words to show me how you feel.
Your body does that for you.
It’s the way you look at me
Like I’m the real deal
.
It’s in your touch
Warm and gentle against my skin. Against my skin.
It’s in the way your mouth smiles
When your eyes find me across the room.
Your silence screams for me.
For me. Again.
You’ve turned wounds into wisdom.
Teaching me to learn from my mistakes. Mistakes.
Which ones are mine and which were out of my control.
I was a shadow.
Cold and dark.
Angry and alone.
Until your lips found mine. Mine. My soul.
You woke me from the nightmare.
You made me feel more than pain and loneliness.
I love the way you frighten me. Frighten me.
I want your kind of scary. Every minute I confess.
I only count minutes now, until your lips find mine once again. And again.
Find me. Find me.
Wake me. See me.
Keep me. Touch me.
Until you lips find mine.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Reachout.com is a confidential, safe, and supportive site where teens and young adults can share stories and find resources to help them get through tough times. You are not alone. There is help.
REACHOUT.COM
or call 800-448-3000.
I want to say a quick thank you to Sean for being a great father to our three children. (And for taking them to the library, or store, or anywhere you could come up with just to give me a couple hours of quiet in which I could write.)
Thank you to my mom for believing I had more stories in me. I think I got that gene from you.
To my big sister, Dawn, I thank you for being my first reader, first fan, and my much needed editor. I couldn’t have done this without your support.
Theresa, thank you for taking the time to give me some much needed professional insight into self-injury. It changed the tone of the book from hopeless to encouraging.
My dear niece, Becca, thank you so very much for inspiring the snarky side of Hope.
A special thanks to my awesome nephew, Charlie, for allowing me to turn you into my model, and for creating an amazing book cover.
And last, but certainly not least, thank you so much to my readers. I appreciate each and every one of you more than you could ever know.
About the Author
Cheryl McIntyre is a mother of three. When she isn’t chasing kids, she enjoys reading and listening to music. If there isn’t a book or an iPod in her hand, she must be writing or sleeping. She is also the author of the paranormal romance, Dark Calling.
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