Ella

March 10th, 2018

Christian,

It's your birthday today. I have debated on whether or not to reach out to you, but I always stop myself because I know you have long forgotten about me by now. I hope you know that I think about you often, and I hope that you are doing okay. I often fight with myself between loving you and hating you, because I should hate you, but I know that a part of me will always care for you.

Ending whatever we had between us was weird. I feel like we told each other everything about ourselves only to not speak to each other again. How do you go from being best friends with someone to never speaking again? Now your birthday comes along and all I can do is debate whether or not to pick up the phone and call you.

I don't think I'm going to say anything at all because I fear that I'll just be ignored by you. I figure if you did want to speak to me then you would. I hope one day you do end up reaching out to me though, and I hope by that day that I have moved on from you. I want more than anything to respond to you and tell you that I'm happy now, and I no longer need you to feel complete. I pray to God that I can tell you that I have full-heartedly moved on and I no longer wish to have these emotional ties to you.

~

"I think this one is so cute." Jess gushes, analyzing the shirt on the hanger. It's this pink floral tube top, and it's so tiny that I almost wonder how it covers any skin. I don't say anything about it though, I just smile and nod my head even though I disagree.

It was her idea to go to the mall today, not mine. I don't like going shopping because there are never any clothes for me to buy here. I always have to go online to find my sizes, and I even hate doing that because nine times out of ten it doesn't fit me like I thought it would.

We're in some store that definitely doesn't have my size, and I'm following her around the store trying to avoid the sales clerk's gaze. It's a look that's wondering why I'm in here, but when she sees that I'm with Jess she seems to understand and continues back to whatever it is she's doing.

"I just really want to find something to impress Nina with. Did I tell you that our anniversary is this weekend? We're going out to this fancy Italian restaurant downtown."

"Really?" I ask. "Wow, Jess. That's great."

I watch her pick up a bodycon dress before she holds it up to her body in the mirror. It's a deep purple with a little gold zipper that runs down the back. I instantly love it.

There's a part of me that wants to tell her about the night Patrick and I had together again at that party, but I don't want to put all of our business out there. I'm not even sure what the other night meant for us, so for all I know he just wants to be friends with me. Does he want me telling people we're friends? I know that's just my past talking, and I know that not every single guy is going to be like Christian, but it's always in the back of my head. I'm terrified that I'm not good enough.

"I'm going to get this one." She grins proudly, waving the bodycon in the air. "Come on, let's go."

"You don't want to try it on?" I ask.

Giving me a puzzled expression, she shakes her head and starts to walk to the counter. It must be nice to just automatically know that everything will look good on you. I suppose that's not the case for everyone, but for Jess, it seems to be.

"Look at this!" She exclaims, grasping a floral dress with her fingertips. She takes the hanger off of the rack and holds it out to me. "This would look so cute on you!"

The dress looks to be about three sizes too small, but the look on Jess's face tells me she's being completely serious. Her eyes are glimmering with excitement, a smile so big it's almost blinding.

I want to laugh, but instead, I reply, "That's going to be way too small."

"Are you sure?" She holds the dress out in front of me, almost to try and picture in her head what I'll look like in it. I feel super self-conscious about her doing this, and I can't help but continuously glance at the cashier by the register in fear that she'll see what Jess is doing.

"I'm positive." I breathe out quickly, rushing my words together. "Let's just buy your dress."

"Whatever." She replies. I follow her up to the register to pay, and as she takes out a brown leather wallet from her purse she turns back to look at me and says, "It would have fit you, and it would have looked amazing on you."

"Sure." I nod.

She can sense that I'm disagreeing with her because she narrows her eyes and cocks her head to one side. "I'm being serious, Ella. You are so pretty. I don't get why you can't see it."

I don't have anything to respond to that, so instead, I chew on the inside of my cheek to try and clear the awkwardness. I almost wonder if in my head I'm bigger than what I actually am. The way Jess acts it's like I'm not fat at all to her, even though I know that's not true. It's just a weird feeling to have a friend that's genuinely nice to me. I'm not used to it.

Once she finishes buying the dress we wander back outside to try and find another store. I want to be done with shopping, but Jess mentioned something about shoes.

"Do you want to talk about what happened at the party?" She asks me.

My whole body freezes, unsure of what she's referring to. "What about it?"

"What they did was so fucked up. I swear that I had no part in that. You know that, right?"

Oddly relief floods over me that she's not talking about Patrick. I thought she had seen us leave together, but thankfully she hadn't. "I know you didn't. It's fine. I'm kind of over it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I just definitely won't be wasting my time at another one of his parties. It was lame."

We both erupt into laughter, wandering into a shoe store to try and find her some heels. I watch her scan the different aisles to try and find the perfect pair until she seems to find a couple of options, taking a seat on the bench to try them on.

"What do you think of this pair?" She asks, twirling a pair of black ones in her hands. The heel looks to be about five inches high, with a bunch of ribbon hanging off the sides to lace up the leg.

"Um, I would probably kill myself if I tried to walk in those, but they're cute." I say.

I hear a man talking to the sales clerk at the counter, and when I turn my head to look at him my heart seems to stop beating. I would know that cold, icy voice anywhere.

Fear takes over every part of me, seeping into every ounce of happiness that I have left as I watch the man hand over his credit card to the woman. She gives him a smile as they continue talking, and all I can do is continue to stand here like an idiot. If only she knew what he's done behind closed doors. If only she knew how dangerous the man that was smiling at her really was.

"What's wrong?" Jess asks me, seeing the blood drain from my face. "Are you okay?"

I can't move, I can't speak, all I can do is stare at the man checking out. He hasn't changed since I saw him last. He's still extremely tall and skinny, his eyes as blue as ice, just like his heart. He still hasn't shaved his beard. It's still scraggly and unruly, the only difference being that little strays of grey are now shining through it that never used to.

"Ella," Jess repeats, seeming concerned. "Seriously, are you alright?"

"I have to go." I choke out, slowly backing away from the bench. "I'm, uh, I'm not feeling so good."

"Okay," Jess says, setting the box down beside her. "We can go. Let me just put these boxes away."

"No, you can stay. I really just need to go."

My eyes are glued to him in fear that he'll turn around and see me at any moment, and all Jess can do is just stare at me in confusion. I can't tell her what's going on, I can't tell her that my worst fear is coming true.

"How are you going to get home? I drove us here."

"I just need to go." I blurt out. "I'll find a way home, okay? I'll talk to you later."

I run out of the store and round the corner, one hand covering my mouth and the other covering my stomach before I sink to the floor and sob. The people around me fade away, leaving me to drown in my fear. I want to get up and keep running, but my legs seem to feel like jello at the moment. All I know is that I just need to get out of here.

I can't go to my grandparent's house like this because they'll know exactly what happened. I don't want them to see the effect my father still has on me.

Pulling out my phone, I call the one person that I can think of to call right now. I can't vent to my grandparents, I can't vent to Jess, but my mind seems to allow me to vent to him.

"Hey." I sniffle, wiping snot away with the back of my sweater. "Can you pick me up?"

~

Patrick's parents' SUV is parked on the curb within a matter of twenty minutes. I slide in without a second thought, a sigh of relief escaping my body when I see his face. He seems to calm me down without having to do anything at all. I'm not exactly sure how he's able to do that.

"Jesus." He says, putting the car in park. "Ella, what happened?"

"Is it okay if we don't talk about it?" I ask.

Now that I'm sitting here with him in his car, all of the thoughts in my mind seem to be all chopped up. I can't form the sentences to even begin to describe to him what just happened. That's my biggest secret, and I'm not ready for anyone to find out. I shouldn't have run out on Jess like that. She's already texted me twice asking if I'm alright. I just told her that I think I caught the flu or something. It seemed to appease her.

He doesn't try to pry anymore, he just nods his head and pulls away from the curb. We drive in silence for five minutes as I wipe the remainder of my tears away, cursing myself for being so emotional around him. He must think I'm crazy.

"Am I bringing you to your grandparents?" He finally asks.

"No. I really don't want to go back there right now."

More silence fills the car, the thickness of it seeming to take the air away from my lungs. I didn't mean to bring him into all of this. I just didn't know who else to call. It's not like my mom is here to come and get me. I really wish she were here right now.

"I'm sorry." I finally decide to say. "You can take me there. I really didn't mean to bring all of this on you."

He tightens his grip on the wheel, turning to give me one of his famous smiles. "I told you I'd be here if you needed me, right? I'm not going to bring you back there until you're ready."

Five minutes turns into thirty, and it's like I suddenly realize that I have no idea where he's taking us. All I can think of is that I'm thankful for him. There may be silence right now, but it's comfortable silence. I know he's just trying to give me the space I need to think.

"I just have to ask," He clears his throat finally, glancing nervously towards me. "Was it something Drew or Rosie did?"

"No. It had nothing to do with them."

"Was it Jess?"

"Patrick," I warn, immediately shutting him up. "Please."

"Okay." He nods again, ending the subject. "I'll stop."

We drive for another thirty minutes until we're on the highway now, and I feel my stress start to lessen knowing we're driving miles and miles away from my father. He didn't see me thankfully, and now he's nowhere near me. He can't get to me now.

"Thank you," I tell him, reaching over to turn down the radio. "I'm starting to feel better."

"That's good. Do you want to go back?"

"Where are you driving to?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go to Carolina beach. It's a lot smaller than Myrtle, so there'd be a lot less people there. It's pretty relaxing. Since it's a Wednesday it'll more than likely be dead there."

I relax back more into my seat, nodding my head to let him know we can go. I can't help but smile, bringing my thumbnail up to my lip to gently bite it. I've never had someone care so much about me to want to do something like this for me. A guy to go out of their way for me is kind of unbelievable.

After another forty-five minutes of driving, he finally pulls into a parking spot and shuts the engine off. I take a second to look at myself in the car mirror, seeing mascara smudged all over my cheeks. I look absolutely terrible.

I wipe the black smudges off the best that I can before I hop out of the car and begin to follow him on the sidewalk.

"This place isn't much like Myrtle." He shrugs, crossing over to the next street. "There's a couple of good restaurants here and stuff, but they don't have a nightlife like Myrtle does."

Patrick was right when he said it would be dead today. There are a couple of families walking on the sidewalk across from us, but it's nothing like Myrtle. I swear it felt like you were being swarmed if you dared to go out at night there. Here it was extremely relaxing.

"There's this pretty cool donut shop here." He says, quickly stopping himself. "Please tell me you like those."

I smack him jokingly on the shoulder when he starts to laugh and roll my eyes at him. "Yes, I like donuts you ass."

"Oh, I'm an ass now?" He smirks, beginning to head down another sidewalk. "Okay. I'll remember that."

We reach the donut shop, and it's weird because there's not any place to sit down. You basically have to order from the outside. There's only one flavor of donut available, which is glazed. I give him a bewildered look, assuming that's what we're going to order.

"Trust me." He says, giving the woman an order for two glazed. "These are the best donuts you'll ever have."

The woman comes back in minutes to give them to us after I thank Patrick for buying again. He seems to be paying for a lot lately.

"The beach is just over the bridge." He says with a mouthful of donut. I take a bite of mine, my eyes widening from the taste.

"Wow." I laugh, wiping my mouth off with a napkin. "Okay, you were right."

"See? I told you so."

We cross the bridge to the beach and it's completely empty. There are hardly any people here. The only sound you can hear is the gentle lapping of the ocean waves, and for a moment I just stand here to take it all in. This is exactly what I needed.

Patrick takes a seat close to the water so he can stick his feet out, the waves coming up to completely cover them. I sit down next to him and stick my feet in too, finishing the rest of my donut.

"Can I ask you something?" He says after a few moments. I nod my head and watch him put his lips into a firm line, almost as if he's debating on whether or not he wants to ask what he's about to. "Why did you call me today?"

He turns to look at me now, the pools of brown forcing me to not be able to look away. I notice his jawline that's so sculpted, the way his lips are so full, the way he's staring at me like I'm the only girl in the world right now. He truly takes my breath away.

"Um, I don't know," I reply honestly. "I really don't. You were just the first person that came to mind."

"Was I?" He smirks.

"Don't think too much of it." I roll my eyes, secretly letting butterflies go off in my stomach. I really don't want him to see how much he gets to me.

"It's probably a no, but are you ready to talk about what happened yet?"

I see the sun start to set in the distance above the ocean, and it's honestly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I don't know what Patrick and I are doing here together, or why we've been hanging out so much, but he's starting to break my walls down. I think he might be able to sense that, but I'm not sure yet.

"It was about my dad." I finally say. "I don't want to say anything more though, so please don't ask again."

"Fair enough." He replies. "Are you okay though?"

"Why do you keep asking me if I'm okay? I don't need someone to feel sorry for me."

"It's because I care about you." He blurts out. Then he tries to backpedal like he didn't mean to say that, and all I can seem to do is give him a stupid grin.

"You care about me." I tease. "Interesting."

"I didn't mean for that to sound creepy. I was just saying that like if you ever needed to vent or-"

"It didn't sound creepy." I laugh, nudging him gently with my shoulder. "It's fine."

A couple of moments of awkward silence pass by before he asks me if this is the first vacation I've ever been on. I tell him I'd only been to Florida once to visit my cousins, but that was about it. Before I know it, I'm opening up about my life back home in D.C. and I explain to him how I had to be homeschooled during my last year of high school from all of the bullying. He doesn't ever interrupt, he doesn't try to cut in, he just stares at me and nods his head while I explain everything from start to finish. I have never felt like I've mattered so much to someone, let alone be important, but as Patrick is staring at me he's making me feel like nobody else in the world matters to him except me.

After I'm finished, I think he's about to say something until a football lands in the sand a few feet away from us. Patrick glances up to a couple of guys that start to laugh and apologize before he sends them a smirk and throws it back to them. He's got perfect aim, and the guys give him a thumbs up to thank him. They've all got girls with them, each of them dancing around the beach in their tiny bikinis as they try to pose for a picture.

"I really wish I looked like that."

I don't realize that I've said it out loud until Patrick looks over to the girls as well, wrinkling his nose up. "Why?" He asks me.

"I don't know. I just wish that I could have a body like that, you know? I'd be so pretty and outgoing."

"You already are." He immediately replies, catching me off guard. I turn to look at him for a moment, seeing him staring directly at me.

"I'm already what?" I ask. "Pretty, or outgoing?"

I watch him stand up on the sand, extending his hand out towards me so that he can help me up. "Both." He smirks, not going into detail. I want him to clarify, but he doesn't. "We should probably get going though because I've got a curfew. We've got a long drive back."

"Okay."

I begin to follow him back towards the bridge, feeling my stomach go into knots when I look at him. I think he might have just said that I was pretty, but he also could have been feeling sorry for me. He might have just meant that I was outgoing and didn't want to say that I was ugly. Maybe he was just trying to be nice.

"We should get some ice cream for the drive." He smiles widely. "You want some?"

"We just had donuts like an hour ago. Really?"

"There's always room for ice cream in my book. Come on, let's get some."

I allow him to drag me to a random ice cream shop where we both get a chocolate cone, and when I analyze his body I'm honestly wondering where he puts all of this junk food. It's probably because he works out so much with sports and all, but still. I don't know where he hides it.

"Fuck, it's hot." He mutters, reaching up behind his neck to pull the tank top off. He slings it around his neck to dangle off of him, eating some more of the ice cream off of the cone. I continue to eat mine, letting my eyes travel down his chest.

"Stop." He chuckles, getting down to the cone part. "Especially with you eating ice cream like that. Don't stare at me with that look."

"What look?" I ask. I feel slightly embarrassed because I'm honestly not sure what he meant by that.

"Nothing." He chuckles again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Let's just go home."

A/N:

Thank you guys so much for supporting this story!

Please comment & give a vote if you enjoyed :) It'd mean a lot!

Love you guys <3

twitter: believeeexoxo

Instagram: deannafaison_