Losing Hope

Chapter Sixteen

I practically skip down the stairs and into the kitchen. It’s the second Monday of school and just thinking about my attitude when I woke up last week as opposed to this morning makes me laugh. I never in a million years imagined I’d be so consumed with the thought of a girl as I have been. Since the second I left her house Saturday night, I’ve done nothing but eat, breathe, and sleep with her on my mind.

“So how are you liking Sky?” my mom asks. She’s seated at the kitchen table eating her breakfast and reading the paper. I’m surprised she remembers her name. I only mentioned her once. I shut the refrigerator door and walk to the bar.

“She’s great,” I say. “I like her a lot.”

My mom puts down the paper and cocks her head. “She?” she says with an arched eyebrow. I don’t understand her confusion. I just stare at her until she shakes her head and laughs. “Oh, Jesus,” she says. “You’ve got it bad.”

Still confused. “What do you mean? You asked how I liked Sky and I answered you.”

She’s laughing even harder now. “I said school, Holder. I asked how you were liking school.”

Oh.

Maybe I do have it bad.

“Shut up.” I laugh, embarrassed.

She stops laughing and picks the newspaper up, holding it out in front of her. I grab my drink and my backpack and head toward the door. “Well?” she asks. “How do you like school?”

I roll my eyes at her. “It’s fine,” I say, backing out of the kitchen. “But I like Sky more.”

I walk to the car and shove my backpack inside. I wish I had thought to offer to pick her up today, but after spending most of Sunday texting back and forth, we agreed that we would take things slow. We decided not to run together in the mornings. She said it would be too much, too soon, and I definitely want to keep it at her pace, so I agreed. However, I can’t deny the fact that I was a little disappointed that she wants to run alone. I want to be around her every second of the day, but I also know she’s right. We spent one weekend together and it already feels like I’ve connected with her on a much deeper level than with any other girl I’ve dated. It’s a good feeling, but it also scares the hell out of me.

Before I back out of the driveway, I pull my phone out and text her.

I don’t know if your ego needs deflating today. I’ll judge for myself when I finally get to see you in fifteen minutes.

I set my phone down and back out of the driveway. When I make it to the first stop sign, I pick my phone back up and text her again.

Fourteen minutes.

I keep the phone in my hand and text her again when another minute has passed.

Thirteen minutes.

I do this every minute until I pull into the school parking lot and all the minutes have passed.

When I reach the classroom I peek through the window of the door. She’s seated in the back of the room next to a conveniently empty desk. My pulse kicks up a notch just from seeing her again. I open the door and walk inside and her face immediately lights up with a smile as soon as she sees me.

I reach the back of the room and begin to lay my backpack down on the empty desk at the same time some dude tries to set his drinks down. I look at him and he looks at me, then we both look at Sky, because I don’t want to shove him away until she gives me permission.

“Looks like we have quite the predicament here, boys,” she says with an adorable grin. She looks at the coffee being held in the hands of the guy standing next to me. “I see the Mormon brought the queen her offering of coffee. Very impressive.” She looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “Do you wish to reveal your offering, hopeless boy, so that I may decide who shall accompany me at the classroom throne today?”

She’s teasing me. I love it. And now that I think about it, this must be the guy she’s been sitting with at lunch all week. One look at his hot pink shoes and matching pants relieves me of any worry that he’s about to become my competition.

I pick up my backpack and let him have the seat. “Looks like someone’s in need of an ego-shattering text today.” I take an empty seat in the row in front of her.

“Congratulations, squire,” she says to the guy with the coffee. “You are the queen’s chosen one today. Sit. It’s been quite the weekend.”

He takes a seat, but he’s eyeing her curiously. It’s clear by the look on his face that he has no idea what happened between Sky and me this weekend. “Breckin, this is Holder,” Sky says, introducing me to him. “Holder is not my boyfriend, but if I catch him trying to break the record for best first kiss with another girl, then he’ll soon be my not breathing nonboyfriend.”

Oh, don’t worry, babe. I’m not about to try and break that record with anyone but you.

I smile at her. “Likewise.”

“Holder, this is Breckin,” she says, gesturing her hand toward him. “Breckin is my new very bestest friend ever in the whole wide world.”

If he’s Sky’s best friend, then I’m pretty sure he’s about to become my second-best friend. I reach my hand out to him. Breckin is cautious as he returns the handshake, then he turns to Sky and lowers his voice. “Does not-your-boyfriend realize I’m Mormon?”

Sky smiles and nods. “It turns out, Holder doesn’t have an issue with Mormons at all. He just has an issue with assholes.”

Breckin laughs and I’m still trying to process if Mormon really means Mormon in this case, because it sure sounds like code for something else entirely.

“Well, in that case, welcome to the alliance,” Breckin says to me.

I look down at the coffee cup on his desk. If Mormon means Mormon, that better be decaf. “I thought Mormons weren’t allowed to have caffeine,” I say to him.

Breckin shrugs. “I decided to break that rule the morning I woke up gay.”

I laugh. I think I like this Mormon.

Sky leans back in her seat and smiles at me. It feels good to get the approval from the only friend she seems to have here. Mr. Mulligan walks in so I lean toward Sky before he starts his lecture. “Wait for me after class?”

She smiles and nods.

When we reach her locker, it’s lined with sticky notes again.

Assholes.

I wad them up and drop them on the floor, just as I always do when I pass her locker. She switches her books, then turns to face me. “You trimmed your hair,” she says.

I’m not even about to admit how hard it is to find a barber open on Sunday.

“Yeah. This chick I know couldn’t stop whining about it. It was really annoying.”

“I like it,” she says.

“Good.”

She smiles at me and clutches her books to her chest. I can’t stop thinking about Saturday night and how I’d give anything to be back in her room with her right now. Why the hell didn’t I kiss her? I’m kissing her today, dammit. After school. Or during school if I can get away with it. Or right now.

“I guess we should get to class,” she says, glancing past me.

“Yep,” I agree. We really probably should get to class but she’s not in my next class so I really have no urge to get to class.

She stares at me a little while longer. Long enough for me to mentally map out a plan. I know it’s Monday, but I want to take her out tonight. That way I’ll have to walk her to her door. Then once we get to her front door, I’m going to kiss her crazy for at least half an hour just like I should have done Saturday night.

She kicks off the locker and begins to walk away, but I grab her arm and pull her back. I push her up against the locker and she gasps while I block her in with my arms.

She’s flustered again.

I reach my hand up to her face and slide it under her jaw, then run my thumb across her bottom lip. I can feel her chest heave against mine and her breaths come in quicker succession.

“I wish I had kissed you Saturday night,” I whisper, staring down at her mouth. She parts her lips and I continue to run my thumb across them. “I can’t stop imagining what you taste like.” I press my thumb to the center of her lips and I quickly lean in and kiss her. I pull away just as fast, though, because that tease just about kills me. Her eyes are closed and I release her face and walk away.

I’m pretty sure I just became the master of willpower, because walking away from that mouth was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

“Hey, whisker biscuit,” Daniel says, cutting in line to stand in front of me.

“Whisker biscuit?” I sigh and shake my head. I swear I don’t know where he comes up with this shit.

“Well, you don’t like it when I call you Hopeless. Or cunt nugget. Or piss flap. Or—”

“You could just call me Holder.”

“Everyone else calls you Holder and I hate everyone else, so no. I can’t.” He takes two empty trays and hands me one. He nods in the direction of Sky’s table. “So, I hope your ditching me Saturday night for cheese tits over there was worth it.”

“Her name is Sky,” I correct.

“Well I can’t call her Sky. Everyone else calls her Sky and I hate everyone else, so . . .”

I laugh. “Well then why do you call Valerie by her name?”

He spins around. “Who’s Valerie?” he asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Val? Your ex-girlfriend? Or current girlfriend. Whatever she is.”

Daniel laughs. “No, man. Her name isn’t Valerie, it’s Tessa.”

What the hell?

“I call her Val because it’s short for Valium and I always tell her she needs to take that shit by the bucketful. I wasn’t lying when I said she was fucking crazy.”

“Do you call anyone by their actual name?”

He ponders my question for a second, then looks at me, confused. “Why would I want to do that?”

I give up. “I’m sitting with Sky today,” I tell him. “You want to sit with us?”

Daniel shakes his head. “Nah. Val’s having a good day so I better take advantage of it.” He takes his change from the cafeteria cashier. “See you later, buttshark.”

I’m kind of relieved he’s sitting with Val. I don’t know if I’m ready for Sky to get a dose of Daniel yet. I pay for my food and walk toward their table. When I reach them, it sounds like Sky is giving Breckin a recap of our weekend. Breckin sees me walk up behind her but he just winks and doesn’t let her know I’m listening.

“He showed up at my house on Friday and after quite a few misunderstandings, we finally came to an understanding that we just misunderstood each other. Then we baked, I read him some smut, and he went home. He came back over Saturday night and cooked for me. Then we went to my room and . . .”

I drop my tray down beside hers and take a seat. “Keep going,” I say. “I’d love to hear what we did next.”

She shoots me a quick grin when she sees my tray beside hers, then she rolls her eyes and turns back to Breckin. “Then we broke the record for best first kiss in the history of first kisses without even kissing.”

“Impressive,” Breckin says.

“It was an excruciatingly boring weekend,” I say.

Breckin shoots me a look like he wants to kick my ass for insulting Sky. He just scored major points for that one.

“Holder loves boring,” Sky clarifies. “He means that in a nice way.”

Breckin picks up his fork and looks back and forth between us. “Not much confuses me. But you two are an exception.”

He’s not the only one confused by us. I’m seriously confused by us. I’ve never felt this comfortable with a girl before and we aren’t even dating. We haven’t even kissed. Although I did give her one hell of a nonkiss. Just thinking about it has me anxious. “You busy tonight?”

She wipes her mouth with her napkin. “Maybe,” she says, smiling.

I wink at her, knowing that’s her stubborn way of saying she’s not busy.

“Was it the smut I let her borrow that she read to you?” Breckin asks.

“Smut?” I laugh. “I don’t think it was smut, but I didn’t catch most of the book because my mind was a little sidetracked.”

Sky slaps me on the arm. “You let me read for three hours straight and you weren’t even paying attention?”

I throw my arm over her shoulder and pull her to me, then kiss her on the side of the head. “I already told you I was paying attention,” I whisper in her ear. “Just not to the words coming out of your mouth.” I turn back to Breckin. “I did catch some of it, though. Not a bad book. I didn’t think I’d ever be interested in a romance novel but I’m curious how that dude’s gonna find a way out of that shit.”

Breckin agrees and brings up a part of the plot. We begin talking about the book and I can’t help but notice how quiet Sky is the whole time I’m talking with Breckin. I keep glancing at her but she’s zoned out, just like when she zoned out in her kitchen Saturday night. After a while of her not talking or even taking a bite of her food, I become concerned that something is wrong.

“You okay?” I ask, turning my attention toward her. She doesn’t even blink. I snap my fingers in front of her face. “Sky,” I say a little louder. Her eyes finally jerk up to mine and she snaps out of it. “Where’d you go?” I ask, concerned.

She smiles, but looks embarrassed by the fact that she just zoned out. I reach up and cup her cheek, running my thumb reassuringly back and forth. “You have to quit checking out like that. It freaks me out a little bit.”

She shrugs. “Sorry. I’m easily distracted.” She smiles and pulls my hand away from her face, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Really, I’m fine.”

I look down at her hand that’s now holding mine. I see the familiar half of a silver heart dangling from beneath her sleeve, so I immediately flip her hand over and twist her wrist back and forth.

She’s wearing Les’s bracelet.

Why the hell is she wearing Les’s bracelet?

“Where’d you get that?” I ask her, still looking at the bracelet that sure as hell shouldn’t be on her wrist right now.

She looks down at her hand and shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

She just shrugs?

She shrugs like she doesn’t give a shit that she just completely knocked the breath out of me. How can she be wearing this bracelet? It’s Les’s bracelet. The last time I saw this bracelet it was on Les’s wrist.

“Where’d you get it?” I demand.

She’s looking at me now like she’s terrified of the person in front of her. I realize I’m holding on to her wrist with a tight grip so I release it, just as she pulls away from me.

“You think I got it from a guy?” she asks, confused.

No, I don’t think it’s from a guy. Christ. I don’t think that at all. What I think is that she’s wearing my dead sister’s bracelet and she’s refusing to tell me how she got it. She can’t just shrug and sit here, acting like it’s a coincidence, because that bracelet is handmade and there’s only one other bracelet like it in the whole damn world. So unless she’s Hope, then she’s somehow wearing Les’s bracelet and I want to know why the hell she’s wearing it!

Unless she’s Hope.

The truth hits me head-on and I think I’m about to be sick. No, no, no.

“Holder,” Breckin says, shifting forward. “Ease up, man.”

No, no, no. This can’t be Hope’s bracelet. How could she even still have it after all this time? Her words from Saturday night rush through my head.

“The only thing I have from before Karen adopted me is some jewelry, and I have no idea who it came from.”

I lean forward, praying this bracelet isn’t the jewelry she was referring to. “Who gave you the damn bracelet, Sky?”

She gasps, still unable to give me an answer. She can’t answer me because she honestly has no idea. She’s looking at me like I just crushed her and hell . . . I think I did.

I know she doesn’t have a clue what’s going through my mind right now, but how could I even begin to tell her? How in the hell do I explain to her that she may not know where the bracelet on her wrist came from, but I do? How do I tell her that bracelet came from Les? From the best friend she doesn’t even remember? And how do I admit that she got that bracelet just minutes before I walked away from her? Minutes before her entire life was ripped out from under her?

I can’t tell her. I can’t tell her, because she honestly has no memory of me or Les or how she got this damn bracelet. From looking at her, I don’t even think she remembers Hope. She doesn’t even remember herself. She said Saturday night she has no memory of her life before Karen.

How can she not remember? How can anyone not remember being stolen from her own home? From her best friend?

How can she not remember me?

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from her. I press my palms against my forehead and inhale a deep breath. I have got to calm down. I’m terrifying her right now and that’s the last thing I want to do. I grip the back of my neck in order to keep my hands busy so that I don’t punch the table.

She’s Hope. Sky is Hope and Hope is Sky and, “Shit!”

I don’t mean to say it out loud, because I know I’m freaking her out. But this is as calm as I’m able to be right now. I have to get out of here. I have to figure out how the hell to explain this to her.

I stand up and rush toward the exit to the cafeteria before I do or say anything else. As soon as I’m through the doors and alone in the hallway, I collapse against the nearest locker, and pull my trembling hands to my face.

“Shit, shit, shit!”