chapter 39- thanks, i guess

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brush fire - grace abrams

The glow of the TV stood out against the setting sun and darkness encroaching on my empty house.

My parents were away again for one of my dad's campaign parties, and Beau was at a weekend football tournament. Which meant, yep, I was in this big creaky house all by myself.

My first instinct when I found out that I would be alone all weekend, was to call Layla, but then I remembered she would be at the same tournament as Beau. So there went our girl's weekend.

And if Raeanna and Toby didn't go to college four hours away, I might have called them and asked if they could come to visit. But then again, things between Raeanna were still stiff and awkward.

The feeling of betrayal that filled my body when I learned that she had kept in contact with Connor and his siblings still lingered to this day. Not to mention all of the nasty and hateful remarks that we had yelled at each other.

It would take a while for us to be okay, and even then, I didn't know if we would be as close as we once were.

The next person on my very short list of friends was Connor. But the two of us had not spoken since the day I bolted from the football field.

I had been dodging him in the hallway, and the numerous texts and phone calls that he had sent me were left unanswered. I couldn't bring myself to hear his voice or read his messages in fear that I would cave.

I was so close to caving that it wasn't even funny.

Every time I was alone, my thoughts drifted off to Connor. He was so perfect. So, fucking perfect that it terrified me.

I was scared of out my mind that I would never live up to what he wanted me to be. That he had this obscene picture in his head of what potential I had.

Connor had always been the 'perfect' kid growing up. He was a straight-A student, an incredible athlete, and one of the most genuine people you would ever meet. And he deserved someone as equally incredible.

So, now that I had practically eliminated all of my close friends and exiled myself from the rest of my classmates, I was sitting utterly alone in my living room, watching Jersey Shore.

I had consumed an ungodly amount of reality television over the last couple of months, but watching other people's lives brought me the most normalcy I had felt since I found out I was pregnant. Also, even though I had seen most of the episodes of Jersey Shore, it never bored me to hear their shouting and arguments.

"This is such fucking bullshit," I grumbled. My parents had moved most of the junk food in our house onto the highest shelf in the pantry in an attempt to try and make me eat healthier. But c'mon how unfair? I'm pregnant, the Cheetos aren't for me they're for the baby.

Out of nowhere as I began to pull over a chair to stand on, there was a knock at the front door.

My hands came up to my chest as I tried to calm my racing heart. Who the fuck was that? Who would be at the door?

Immediately, I thought the worst.

It was Jack, and he was here to kidnap me and then dump my body in a ditch.

Probably not the most logical, but it seemed to make sense in my brain.

As I stood in the kitchen, frozen with the wooden chair in my hand, another knock rang out. Oh fuck.

Slowly, I let go of the chair and grabbed the butcher knife from the knife block sitting on the counter next to me. If I was going to get kidnapped, I was going out with a fight.

Layla's mom always said, "Be crime scene A, not crime scene B."

I 100% was not going to rely on the police to find my body. They would definitely let my murder turn into a cold case.

Creeping down the hallway like an absolute nutcase, I caught a glimpse of the figure standing on my porch. But because of the impending darkness of nighttime, all I could tell was that whoever it was, was tall.

When I got to the window next to the front door, I carefully lifted the blinds and peaked out.

Oh.

Straightaway, I recognized the old beat-up, navy cap of the person standing outside. It was Connor.

After letting out a relieved sigh, I unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Hi, Hope." He blushed. Connor was wearing a denim jacket over an open blue and white flannel that showed the white shirt that was tucked underneath it. Black jeans adorned his long legs, and classic black Converse sat on his feet.

But his outfit wasn't the part that left me a gaping mess.

Connor was holding a bouquet of daisies and a box of M&Ms. Exactly like the night I first saw him when Jack and I had been overlooking the river.

It was the night Jack had told me how much he loved me and given me the diamond promise ring. Little did I know that only a few short months later, that whole relationship would blow up in my face.

"Connor? What... what are you doing here?"

He scratched the back of his neck, the group of white flowers rising as his arm flexed. "I, um, wanted to see you." He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Layla called me before she got on the bus to go to the tournament and told me you were going to be home alone all weekend."

That's when it hit me. Connor was on the football team, so why was he standing on my porch?

"Why aren't you with them? Shouldn't you be playing?"

"I'm benched. I got into a fight with one of the other guys, so Coach benched both of us for one game."

"You got into a fight?" I asked dumbfounded. "Over what."

Connor swallowed and looked past me into the house, where he inevitably saw the reruns of my favorite show on the TV.

"You."

Oh. OH.

What do you say when your childhood best friend, who you have been in love with forever, but broke your heart, tells you they got into a fistfight over you? Okay? That didn't seem like the appropriate answer. But neither did 'thank you.'

"Look, I know you're mad at me or upset... I really don't know actually. But I needed to talk to you. I needed to see you, H."

I chewed on my bottom lip as I stared at the boy in front of me.

Although I'm glad that it hadn't been Jack standing at my doorstep trying to kidnap me, I almost wish it had been.

Having this conversation with Connor was one of the biggest things in my life that I was dreading. Which was kind of silly when you think about how much of a shitshow my life was.

"Connor..."

"If you want me to go, H, I will. It was dumb to show up here unannounced. I'm sorry." He gave me a tight-lipped smile and then stepped forward. "Here. They're still your favorites, right?"

Fuck. Really Connor?

I gingerly took the flowers and candy from Connor's tan hands and nodded. I couldn't seem to find the right words to say. Actually, scratch that. I couldn't get them to come out of my mouth. I was frozen.

"I guess I'll go then. Bye, Hope." Connor smiled at me again before turning and heading down the wooden steps of the porch.

As I stared at his back, I couldn't help but realize how big of a bitch I was being.

Connor had picked up my favorite flowers and candy, knowing damn well they would make me happy, and then proceeded to drive all the way out to my house.

He did this for me, and I paid him back by walking up to the door with a butcher knife and questions about why he was here. I didn't even say thank you.

Oh, fuck me.

"Wait!" I called out as Connor reached for the door handle of his truck. "Thank you."

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