Possibly our last kiss.

“I think I need to go call him,” I say. “We didn’t exactly end the day on a good note.”

“Are you sure you want to talk to him? Maybe you need to step away for a while, give yourself more time before you get involved with him.”

“I already am involved.” I stand and grab my backpack and my blanket. “Thank you for talking with me. I feel better now.”

“I’m here if you need to talk more.”

Once in my room, I close the door softly behind me, change into sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and call Ty’s cell phone from mine. It rings four times and goes to his voice mail.

That’s odd. He always answers when I call him, unless he’s on the bike. I send him a text message:

Holly: Hi…I tried to call you

Tyler: I didn’t answer. I’m having trouble talking.

Holly: Why?

Tyler: Just stress shit. Don’t worry about it.

No little smiley faces accompany his words, a clear sign that he’s angry.

Holly: Can we talk on here for a few minutes?

Tyler: Ok

Holly: I’m sorry. About earlier.

Tyler: Don’t be. It’s forgotten.

My chest constricts.

Holly: Don’t say that

Tyler: You’re not the first girl to reject me. Won’t be the last, either.

I stare at the small screen with tears in my eyes. This is not my prince talking.

Holly: That’s not it at all. I was just scared. I couldn’t breathe.

Tyler: It’s all good. Let’s just forget it.

How can I possibly forget it? And how can he?

Tyler: Snuggle in your magic blanket and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be better. Going to bed now. Talk to you in a few days.

I tossed and turned all night, finally falling asleep sometime after 2:00 a.m., only to wake up with a jolt after dreaming I was wandering through the woods, alone and naked. I screamed for help, but no one came. I walked in circles, seeing the same trees and rocks over and over and over again, never finding my way out. All the while, a black bird followed me overhead, his large wings whooshing above me ominously.

I wake with tears on my cheeks and a pounding headache, and it takes me several minutes to drag my mind out of the dream and convince myself I am safe.

The scent of Ty’s cologne lingers on the blanket, and I snuggle further under it, burrowing my face in it. I let the memory of his kiss surface. I let myself relive how it made me feel. I sift through the negative feelings, push them to the side, and focus on the good that’s left, like I was taught.

The feel of his lips on mine was exhilarating.

His hand in my hair, cradling my head, made me feel wanted.

The fiery passion I saw in his eyes made me feel beautiful.

His hard body leaning into mine, his leg over mine, made me feel protected.

The way he wiped my tears away made me feel cared for.

All of it together made me jittery, lightheaded, and nervous, but I wanted more.

But, oh, God. How had I made him feel while he was giving me all these wonderful new feelings? Unwanted and rejected.

How do I undo that?

I sit up, rubbing my throbbing forehead and wondering if Feather will drive me to see my grandmother today, since Grandma has a knack for cheering me up. I kick off my blankets and check my cell phone, hoping for a text from Ty, but there aren’t any. I hold the phone, debating whether I should send him a text, but I have no idea what to even say. I put the phone back down on my nighttable, and that’s when I notice it.

My heartbeat speeds up, and I rush over to my window, where a beautiful dreamcatcher is taped to the outside of the glass with a small envelope taped next to it. When does he do this stuff?

I don’t care!

I yank the window open and gently untape them from the glass, then carry them over to the bed. The dreamcatcher is beautiful, made with white and silver webbing, white feathers, and pastel-colored beads. I rip open the envelope and pull out a note card:

I made this for you, I hope it helps with your bad dreams. Hang it over your bed.

PS – Poppy says he wants to see you tomorrow. He’s sending me to pick you up at noon.

I pull a tack off the little corkboard above my desk and hang the dreamcatcher over my bed, and I put the note in my nightstand with the one he left for me on Christmas. I hope the gift and the note means he’s not upset or mad anymore.

20

Tyler

The first thing I do when I get inside the hotel room is turn all the lights off, and I turn the TV on so the only light is the glow of the screen. I wait in the dark, trying to ignore the swirl of guilt and nerves that are eating at me.