Losing Hope

Chapter Thirty

I grab the sack from the floorboard and walk to the front door, then ring the doorbell. I don’t know if this is a good idea. In fact, I know it’s not a good idea. But for whatever reason I trust him to do this for me.

The front door opens and a woman, more than likely his mother, is standing in the doorway.

“Is Breckin here?” I ask her.

She starts at the top of my head, then slowly scrolls down my entire body, stopping at my shoes. It’s not the kind of scroll a guy gets from a woman who’s checking him out. It’s a scroll of disapproval. “Breckin isn’t expecting company,” she says coldly.

Okay. I didn’t anticipate this obstacle.

“It’s okay, Mom,” I hear Breckin say as he opens the door further. “He’s not here for my gay parts.”

Breckin’s mother scoffs, then rolls her eyes and walks away while I’m trying to hold back my laughter. Breckin is now standing in her place, scrolling over me disapprovingly just like she did. “What do you want?”

I shift my feet, feeling a little uncomfortable at how unwelcome I am at this house. “I want a couple of things,” I say. “I’m here to apologize, for one. But I’m also here to ask you for a favor.”

Breckin arches an eyebrow. “I told my mother you weren’t here for my gay parts, Holder. So go ahead and apologize, but I’m not doing you any favors.”

I laugh. I love that he can be so pissed, yet make fun of himself at the same time. That’s such a Les thing to do. “Can I come in?” I ask. I feel pretty damn awkward on the porch right now and I don’t really want to have this conversation standing in a doorway. Breckin steps back and opens the door farther.

“That better be an apology gift,” he says, indicating the sack in my hand. He doesn’t look back or invite me to follow him as he makes his way toward the hallway, so I shut the front door and glance around, then follow him. He opens the door to his bedroom and I walk in behind him. He points to a chair. “Sit there,” he says firmly. He walks to his bed and takes a seat on the edge of it, facing me. I slowly take a seat in the chair and he rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands in front of him, looking me straight in the eyes. “I take it you’ll be apologizing to Sky next? After you leave here? Because she’s the one you really need to be apologizing to.”

I set the sack down at my feet and lean back in the chair. “You’re really protective of her, aren’t you?”

Breckin shrugs indifferently. “Well, with all the assholes treating her like shit, someone has to watch out for her.”

I purse my lips into a tight line and nod, but don’t say anything right away. He stares at me for a while, more than likely attempting to figure out the motive behind my being here. I blow out a quick breath, then begin with what I came here to say.

“Listen, Breckin. I’m probably not going to make a whole lot of sense, but hear me out, okay?”

Breckin straightens up at the same time he rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you’re about to explain what the hell happened in that cafeteria. We’ve tried to analyze your behavior no less than a dozen times, but you don’t make any sense.”

I shake my head. “I can’t tell you what happened, Breckin. I can’t. All I can tell you is that Sky means more to me than you could ever comprehend. I screwed up and it’s too late to go back and make it right with her. I don’t want her forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. You and I both know she’s better off without me. But I needed to come here and apologize to you because I know just from watching you how much you care about her. It kills me that I hurt her but I know that my hurting her indirectly hurt you, too. So, I’m sorry.”

I keep my eyes trained on his. He tilts his head slightly and chews on his bottom lip while he studies me.

“Her birthday is next Saturday,” I say, picking up the sack. “I got her this and I want you to give it to her. I don’t want her to know it’s from me. Just tell her you got it for her. I know she’ll like it.” I take the e-reader out of the sack and toss it to him. He catches it, then looks down at it.

He stares at it for a few minutes, then flips it over and looks at the back of it. He tosses it on the bed beside him, then clasps his hands together again, staring down at the floor. I wait for him to speak because I’ve said everything I came here to say.

“Can I just say one thing?” he says, lifting his gaze.

I nod. I figured he’d have way more than just one thing to say after all that.

“I think what pissed me off the most is the fact that I liked her with you,” he says. “I liked seeing how happy she was that day. And even though it was just thirty minutes that I watched you with her at lunch before you went and flipped the fuck out,” he says, waving his arm in the air, “it just seemed so right. You seemed right for her and she seemed right for you and . . . I don’t know, Holder. You just don’t make any sense. You didn’t make sense when you walked away from her that day and you sure aren’t making any sense right now. But I can tell you care about her. I just don’t understand you. I don’t understand you at all and it pisses me off because if there’s one thing in the world I’m good at, it’s understanding people.”

I wasn’t counting while he was talking, but I’m pretty sure that was more than just one thing. “Can you just trust that I really do care about her?” I say. “I want what’s best for her and although it kills me that I’m not what’s best for her, I want to see her happy.”

Breckin smiles, then reaches beside him and picks up the e-reader. “Well, I think once I give her this awesome present I spent my life savings on, she’ll forget all about Dean Holder. I’m pretty sure it’ll be all about sawdust and sunshine once she dives into the books I’m about to load on here.”

I smile, even though I have no idea what he means by sawdust and sunshine.