Haunt Me (Heartbreaker Duet #2)

eighteen

I text her as soon as I get to the cafeteria.

I can’t stand this. I can’t be without you.

It’s literally been fifteen minutes, you idiot , she replies at once and I breathe.

I imagine she was, for once, staring at her phone. The same way I’ve been staring at mine since she gave me her number, all these months ago.

Otherwise known as an eon , I reply. I didn’t like the way you left. Scared. Upset.

Don’t worry about that , she types back . I’m always scared.

Not when you’re with me you aren’t.

I hope that didn’t come across as angry as her last text made me feel.

Not usually , she replies.

Then again, maybe I hope it did sound angry. Because I am fuming right now.

“Hey, Isaiah,” a dude slides in the seat next to me and bites into his burger. Three more guys take their seats around us.

“Hey.” I try to eat as well, but I can’t get the food down.

This isn’t new: it’s been this way since October. But after I met Eden, I started swallowing the food, even though it tasted like dust, because I could distract myself by thinking about her. At first, being curious about her. Then… more. And more.

Now, I’m back to not being able to eat at all again, but for a different reason. I’m too euphoric to eat. The conversation buzzes around me, but I can’t concentrate on anything. I can’t stand that I chased her away.

This isn’t healthy , a voice inside me says. You can’t eat because you’re thinking about a girl.

I don’t care , I reply to it. It beats not being able to eat because you’re thinking about your dead dad anyway .

I pick up my phone. A girl sits next to me on the other side, eyeing my phone. I know she is hoping to start a conversation, possibly to flirt a little—or, if the past is any indication, a lot—with me, but I don’t have the energy to let her down gently right now.

I’ll tell you what, forget I said I love you , I text Eden, fully realizing how ridiculous this is. Seeing as I literally just typed ‘I love you’.

“Gosh, I’m such an idiot,” I murmur to myself.

“Did you say something, Isaiah?” the girl next to me asks—her name is Cameron.

We meet sometimes when she sneaks into the music rooms to dance; her parents are forcing her to pursue journalism. She has been nothing but sweet to me, and I’m ignoring her like a jerk.

“Just talking to myself,” I try to smile and it comes out as a wince.

She looks weirded out. As she should.

I might as well forget my own name , Eden’s reply lights up my phone within second.

I smile so hugely my cheeks are about to burst. Oh, is that right?

Stop smiling, you idiot , Eden texts me. She so knows I am smiling right now. She has me in the palm of her hand. You ruined everything, you know.

I sober up. I know , I type. I’m not sorry I said it, but let’s forget I did, ok? Let me say something else instead. You are not alone. This is not ok, but you are not alone in it. You have me.

What is not ok?

I gesture helplessly. How do I answer that in a text? I need her here next to me. I swear under my breath. I need to see her face, I need to talk to her. I sigh, exasperated.

Next to me, Cameron notices my gesture. The all-familiar mask of pity descends on her face, and I swear, it takes all of my will-power not to stand up and walk away from the table .

“Are you ok?” she tilts her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I heard what happened to you. It sucks about your dad…”

I stand up and leave. It’s always the same. Every single time a person talks to me, this is what they have to say. I can’t stand it. I need to breathe.

I head to my dorm and flop face first on my bed. Blessed silence envelops me. I start typing, trying to put my thoughts into words.

This. This is not ok, Eden. Whatever you are going through, the things that you won’t tell me. I can feel it that you are lost like me.

You can’t possibly know that.

Well, are you?

Am I what?

Lost.

She stops typing.

I sit up. I made her uncomfortable.

Listen, if you’re lost, I can’t get you un-lost, but we can be lost together. My fingers are shaking as I type. I don’t think I have ever written a truer sentence.

That is lovely, Isaiah , she replies.

Yeah? I thought it the first day I met you.

You barely said a word to me that day.

Oh, I said plenty of words, believe me. But none came out of my mouth. I was… I was struck speechless by you.

You were not. I looked pathetic.

You looked… like you. You were you. And even before anything else, my heart recognized you. Does that sound corny ?

Very , she replies .

I laugh. Well, it’s true.

It was more terror at first sight for me , she types.

I know, Eden, I saw. But for the record, it wasn’t love at first sight for me either. It was more of a lightning bolt than love. I was just… struck. I saw myself in in your pain. I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I knew one thing the minute I saw you: I was no longer alone.

And that was it.

Yeah, that was it. It was enough to get my brain stuck on you the very first second.

Dots. She is typing. Oh? And when did it get unstuck?

I look at the screen. How can she ask me that?

“Never,” I answer quietly, but I don’t text it to her.