19. Graham
CHAPTER NINETEEN
graham
Everything I do and say is wrong.
Today was as perfect as she was, but I had to go and ruin it by opening my mouth.
Her smiles and laughter are out of pity, they have to be.
My pen hovers above the page. Are they out of pity?
I think about today. How she stared down at me as I put on her rain boots. How she didn’t let go of my hand. How her head rested on my shoulder.
The look on her face when I told her how I was feeling wasn’t because she was embarrassed or getting ready to reject me. Sure , she was shocked—so was I at that sudden outburst.
For a second, I could have sworn her expression was laced with longing. Desire .
Yet I walked away from her, too nervous to question what it meant.
I stare at my open journal as it sits in front of me on my bed .
It’s so easy for me to express how I’m feeling when my thoughts are hidden between pages.
Tonight , however, I want to be bold. For her. To know Quinn is a privilege and she should never doubt that.
Snatching up my pen, I messily scrawl a few lines at the bottom of the paper.
1) I’m never listening to Booth again.
2) She makes me feel brave.
The sound of my journal slapping closed jolts Curly from his sleep, and he watches me with curious eyes as I stride out of my room and across the hall.