“Well?” She threw her hands into the air in frustration. “They were the only two people that approached me.”
“I bet they were,” I grumbled.
“Wes?”
She called me Wes.
I could die happy.
Most people called me Wes. I hadn’t told her it was okay. It seemed natural. It’s how I’d signed my note.
I was turning into a chick.
My smile grew as her eyes narrowed.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Just happy.”
“That I failed at your little list?”
“No failure.” I shook my head. “You tried and that’s what counts. You need to get out from underneath the cloud.”
Her nostrils flared as she grabbed her bag and stood. “I gotta go.”
“Sit.”
“No.”
“Sit.” I jerked her down to the seat and softly held her hand in mine. I could feel her pulse in her wrist; it was erratic, angry. “I’m not sorry.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You remind me of my brother.”
“Huh?”
“Coma. Died,” I explained. “Overdosed.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said through clenched teeth.
I pushed back the dark thoughts of my brother’s demise, barely holding it together by a thread. “Depressed, talented, awesome, my favorite person in the world… he was all those things. And you — you remind me of him. I don’t know why, but you just do. So yeah, I’m pushing a little, but I think you can take it. Tell me you’re strong enough to take it.”
“You don’t know me.” Her voice was hard. It had an edge to it that I wasn’t used to hearing from girls.
“I do.”
“You. Don’t.”
I released her hand. “Better than you realize. Look, I don’t sugarcoat things, and I sure as hell don’t have time to be that guy. The one who waits for weeks to finally crack all your defenses. I’m different. Maybe I’m too intense. I get that. My methods are crazy. But I’m drawn to you — and honestly, you need me.”
“I don’t need anyone,” she whispered, sounding like she hardly believed herself let alone was capable of convincing anyone else.
“You do,” I said. “And I’ll wait until you say it to my face if that’s what it takes for you to realize it.”
With that, I got up from my seat and left her. I’d keep writing my notes. I’d keep pushing her.
Maybe if I could save her — I let out a rugged breath… maybe in saving her I’d be saving him. I couldn’t then, but I can now.