It's been a week since I confronted Mrs. Everett about her son. I'll admit those first thirty minutes were excruciating. She'd pulled me into her house and ushered me to the living room. I could see the stiffness in her demeanor, like having me in her home was comparable to have Hitler seated on her sofa. But, after offering me some water and taking a seat opposite me, she'd watched me for a moment before sighing and dropping her shoulders in defeat.

She'd told me how she'd spent the last three-and-a-half months hating me. She'd pictured me as this wild, stupid high school boy who cared nothing for the people around him. She'd imagined me living my life without remorse for the life I took. And then she admitted the bafflement she'd experienced when she watched me barely keep myself together as I'd brokenly apologized on her doorstep.

We spent nearly an hour talking about Malcolm and the little joy he was. With shame, she explained that she'd taken him out for a walk that day. She'd been diligently watching him until she got a phone call. Her attention was diverted to her phone for a moment and that was all the time it took for little Malcolm to grow curious and veer off course.

It seems Mrs. Everett—Juliet, as she later informed me—was equally at fault as I was. Neither of us did anything wrong. It was just bad timing and a brief second of distraction.

The rest of our visit was of her telling me stories about her boy and how lively and loving he was. She also told me some horror stories about raising a child with ADD, but she loved him unconditionally. She still did and the ache that his loss has created in her is a void that will never be filled.

Then she asked how I was. I'd not been expecting that. First Lynn and now Juliet. It's strange to meet so many people who hold the capability to care so deeply about others. Juliet's boy is dead because of me and she sat there asking how my recovery had been. She'd even shown pity when she learned how my life had changed after the accident.

Overall, the visit was refreshing. I'll probably never see Juliet again—which I'm sure we both prefer—but a weight has been lifted. Earning her forgiveness was the solution to this suffocating feeling I've been having since that day. The chains have dropped away and I feel freer than I have in months.

But with this freedom came a new realization. The realization that I'm not ready to give up on Lynn. Actually, with the three weeks apart, I thought I'd start growing more distant and happier about my decision. But on the contrary. I'm miserable. I think about her constantly. I wonder if she's found peace yet, or if she feels the emptiness that I find myself feeling.

It's so strange; when I'd first let her go, I thought I was okay with it. I didn't think it'd take but a few days to return to my old habits and move on from her. I was wrong. It's like everything is working in reverse order. The longer I'm away from her the more I want her. I want her smiles, her laughs, and man do I want her lips. I'd only gotten one taste, but that was all it took to brand the memory onto my tongue. I crave her.

But most importantly, I miss her. I miss her playfulness and her ability to make me feel so normal. I miss her shy smile coupled with her quirky, confident personality. I miss her awful flirting and her inability to consider herself before anyone else. For her, others always come first. I miss her kind spirit, and her cranky morning attitude, and her zest for her simple life.

I did everything I could the last week before school started to get a moment with her. I'd even gone to her workplace each morning, but she'd brushed me off with the excuse that she was busy. Feeling desperate, I'd call her and leave messages just to let her know how much I cherish her friendship... because it seems that's all we'll ever be since I ruined everything with my indecisiveness and inability to understand my own feelings.

It's all pointless really. I waited too long to apologize and try to make things work, but that's how long I needed to really understand how much I needed her in my life. Again, maybe I'm being selfish because I can't honestly say if I'm good for her. I don't think she needs me. She loved me for who I used to be, not who I am now. The guy I am now is still searching for himself. I guess I just hoped Lynn would want to come along for the ride and help me figure out my goals in life and my destination.

She hung onto me for five years though, and it's that realization that pushes me to head to her house the Tuesday after school starts so I can have a moment to chat with her mom.

Sitting at the kitchen island while her mom cuts up peaches and mangoes seems like deja vu. I'm here on a mission. Mission: get Lynn back. As much as I've tried to ignore the truth, I actually believe that Lynn needs me too. I may not offer much. I don't make her a better person or inspire her to chase her dreams and accomplish the impossible. But I'm learning to let go of myself and embrace others. I'm learning to stop fretting over the small downers in life and love others... and I think I'm ready to try and love again.

Lynn's got a supportive family and great friends, so it's taken me a long time to figure out what it is about me that she clung to for so long. Even before the accident, I was never overly selfless or compassionate. I was just me, and I'm still just me. That's all I can offer her. I can be good to her. I can treat her the way she deserves and I'll always be loyal and honest. Maybe that's enough. I mean, who says there has to be some glaringly obvious reason as to why a couple should be together. Isn't love usually confusing? Does love have to make perfect, logical sense?

It's really not all that complicated. She doesn't love me because of what I can give her. That's not who she is. It's not in her nature to choose a person based on what they can do for her. She's too selfless to think that way.

The truth is, I think she loves me because she knows me. She doesn't want me because I have something to give her. She loves me because she knows my heart. She knows I care even if I don't shower her with sappy affection twenty-four-seven. She knows I care even if I don't willingly express my emotions to her on a daily basis. She knows I care because, first and foremost, we're best friends, and best friends love each other no matter how the other looks, feels or acts. At least, that's how I hope she views me.

Even back when I pretended to loathe her, it was only ever a surface act. I was hurt and childish then, but I'd like to think that I've grown up a bit since then. I guess tragedy can do that to a person. I view life differently now. Moments are precious and I've realized that I don't want to miss out on any single moment.

I chat with her mom for awhile, gathering facts and ideas as to how I can win her daughter back. I'm so committed to my plan that I even confess my reasons for needing this information. I don't hold back. I tell Mrs. Sodawaan just how special her daughter is to me and how I'll do anything to make her happy. So, in return, Mrs. Sodawaan lets me in on a little secret. A secret to win her daughter's heart.

———

It's Thursday afternoon and I'm sitting on Lynn's bed with a large box on the floor at my feet. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes already waiting for her door to swing open and surprise and delight to erupt across her face. I know she's home. I can hear her blabbing away to her mom downstairs. When thirty minutes pass, I finally here Mrs. Sodawaan tell Lynn to go to her room and finish up her homework before dinner.

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm flippin' nervous. I even have to wipe my palms down my pant legs a couple times to refrain from wringing my own fingers into limp noodles. This could turn out horribly. She could turn me down and demand I leave her house and never come back. But that's not Lynn's style. She's not cruel. She hates making people feel humiliated. So more than likely, she'll be polite as she kindly refuses me.

The door creaks open and I brace myself, but when her eyes land on mine I'm the one surprised. She doesn't jump, or gasp, or even widen her eyes in shock. She just casually glances my way, a lazy smile on her face, and waves.

"My mom doesn't know how to keep a secret," she admits, stepping into her room and flopping down on the bed beside me.

I'm so caught off guard by her casual demeanor that I can't even respond for a moment. My brain takes a moment to click and then it's fast forwarding until it's finally on the same page as Lynn. Turning, I find her sprawled out across her bed, her eyes closed as she whisper-sings some lame—but catchy—radio hit.

"She told you I was here?"

"Yessiree." Her eyes pop open, a smile blooming across her face. "I'm glad you're here, actually."

"Oh yeah?" I adjust my seating so I'm facing her completely and wait for her to elaborate.

"Yeah," she nods. "I've been wanting to give you a piece of my mind, maybe throw in a couple slaps and a punch to the throat. I dunno," She shrugs. "Just something to let you know that I'm thoroughly pissed at you. But then when I'm done maybe we can, I dunno, go grab some tacos or some ice cream. I'd even pay to make up for my abuse."

I stare at her for a moment, my brain malfunctioning and my smile frozen in place. I have no control over my mouth at this point. I'm simply consumed by Lynn and her good-natured attitude.

"You're adorable," I say softly.

"I know—" Her eyes fly open and she abruptly lifts herself onto her elbows. "I'm what?"

"You heard me," I tell her, grabbing ahold of her calf and pulling her across the bed until she's as close to me as possible.

"Lynn—" I start to say, but I'm cut off by a low whimper coming from my right.

"What was that?" Lynn inquires, scooting toward the edge of the bed and peering around the floor. Her eyes land on the box at my feet and she shoots me an inquisitive glance.

"I'd hoped I'd have a few more minutes, but..." Leaning over, I pick the box up and heave it onto the bed.

Lynn's eyes dart between me and the package in front of her, a gleam of excitement sprouting to life in her gaze. I smile encouragingly at her, motioning my chin toward the box so she knows she's free to open it.

"Guess my mom can keep a secret after all," she says, pulling the tucked flaps apart and flipping them back before reaching inside.

"No way," she gasps, her voice nearly quivering with ecstatic emotion as she pulls out the speckled puppy and plops him down in her lap. "How'd you know I love Dalmatians?"

"Your mom."

Her lips form an 'O' and she nods slowly before dropping her gaze to the little polka-dotted pup in her lap. He's nibbling on the fingers of one of her hands while she strokes his coat with the other. I'm so caught up in watching her movements that I don't realize just how touched she is by the gift until she lifts watery eyes up to meet mine.

"Why?" she questions, cuddling the small dog to her chest and burying her face in his fur.

"Well," I start to explain. "It just seemed wrong for someone who hopes to be a veterinarian one day not to own a single pet."

Her eyes widen and she watches me for a moment before speaking. "You remembered?" The question is coated in awe and I can't help but chuckle.

"I pay more attention to what you say than you give me credit for," I tease, scooting back on her bed so that my back is rested against the wall. "But in all seriousness, this puppy is my peace offering. I wanted you to understand just how sorry and regretful I am about my decision."

"Regretful?"

I'm not sure how to answer her question without sounding like I'll be lost if she refuses to give me a second chance. I don't want to guilt trip her into accepting me and I know that if I speak right now, I'm going to sound far too hopeful. It has to be her decision completely. So, rather than mutter a 'yes' with an expectant smile on my face, I drop my eyes to the duvet and pick at the fabric.

"What do you have to be regretful about?"

She won't let it go, and her persistence sparks a flame or promise within me. She's probing for an answer. Most people don't badger someone for an answer unless they're hoping for a specific response, right?

Dropping my head back against the wall behind me, I let out an airy groan. My mind is searching for the right words because I don't want to screw this up again. I need her to understand that this wasn't some rushed decision. I had three weeks to hate myself for denying her. Three weeks to realize what a fool I was to let her go.

Three weeks to fall for her.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say," I tell her, lifting my right knee and resting my forearm over it. "I don't wanna screw this up again." I rub my left eye and exhale through slightly parted lips. "Brace yourself," I say, "because I'm about to get all mushy on you right now."

Lynn giggles softly but I'm too focused on wording my plead of forgiveness to pay attention.

"The truth is, I'm a better person when I'm with you, but it took losing you to realize that." I clamp a hand down on the back of my neck and squeeze out the tension before lifting my eyes to meet hers. "I was so unstable and messed up before you came along, and now I feel like I'm finally focused again. I have goals and my dreams are alive again. I'd lost all motivation until you helped clear that haze from my mind."

I see Lynn drag in a deep breath and glance down at the playful Dalmatian in her lap.

"I'm finally in a good place," I tell her. "It took months, but I'm finally seeing light in my life. Three weeks ago, I didn't see anything good that I could offer you. I worried that if we agreed to take that step in our relationship, that it'd always be me taking, taking, taking. And that wouldn't be fair to you."

"And you overcame all that doubt and darkness in three weeks?" She sounds doubtful. The look on her face says she thinks this is a spur of the moment decision. She thinks I'm asking for another chance not because I want a relationship that's deep and real, but because I just don't want to be alone.

"No," I deny. "It took me three weeks to realize that I don't need you... I want you."

Her mouth drops slightly as her hand stills on the puppy. She just stares at me a moment, obviously trying to process my words.

"I'm done using you, Lynn," I confess. "You were my crutch for so long; the person I could rely on to always be by my side no matter how brutal things got. You inspired me and cared for me in a way that no one else could. No one else has ever cared for me in that way—well, except for Dillon, and I have no interest in dating him." I chuckle lightly.

"Date?" She blinks, startled by the possibility.

"Yes, Lynn," I sigh, smiling tiredly in exasperation. "I want to date you. That's what I'm trying to say." I laugh. "Where's your head been this entire time?"

She chuckles, lifting the dog up to her face and burying her face in his fur again. With an almost imperceivable shake of her head, she lifts sparkling eyes to me.

"I want to date you, Lynn," I tell her softly. "I want to spoil you like crazy and kiss you like crazy. I want to show off to the world that you're mine. I want to care for you the way you've cared for me, and prove my devotion to you. I'm finally in a place where I'm excited to take the spotlight off of myself and shower you with affection." I gag, shaking my head in distaste. "Sorry, that just got a little too mushy for me. It's all the truth—don't get me wrong—it's just uncomfortable for me to talk like this."

A loud laugh escapes Lynn's lips and I take this reaction as my sign to continue. Scooting forward until my knee is touching Lynn's, I gently remove the dog from her hands and place him on the floor before pulling her to me. She's sitting cross-legged, one of her knees bumping into mine as I eye her curiously. She smiles up at me even though her brows are quirked up in expectation. She's waiting for me to say the perfect words, but she's giving no hints as to what those words should be.

"I'm sorry," I finally mutter, fearful that all my groveling has gotten me nowhere. Maybe she's giving me a taste of my own medicine and letting me feel the burn of rejection.

"So, what do you want me to do about all your new revelations," she asks, clearly not ready to make this easy on me. It's fine, though. I deserve to have to fight for what I want for once.

"I want you to say yes," I answer, laughing in playful frustration.

"Oh." She nods a couple times. "Okay."

We blink at each other for several stretched out seconds.

"Well, you have to ask me the question before I can give an answer," she explains as if she's talking to a person with the mental capacity of a brick wall.

She's messing with me now and I'm too antsy and excited to handle her teasing, so I grab her by the hips and yank her into my lap, eliciting a bubble of laughter from her lips as my fingers dig into her sides.

"Woman," I warn, pushing her backward onto the bed and then leaning over her as she fights to regain even breathing. "You're going to make me beg, aren't you?"

"Well," she shrugs, her blue hair fanning out around her head. "I wouldn't discourage it."

"Fine."

I quickly hop from the bed, striding across her room before doubling back and dropping down on my good knee beside her bed. Lynn slowly raises herself up into sitting as she watches me with amused anticipation.

"Lynn... my dearest," I exaggerate. "Would you do me the mightiest pleasure of courting me?"

"Ew, no," she spits. "You said 'courting'. The deals off. We could never work." She starts to laugh, leaning back on her arms as they prop her up and lifting a brow in challenge.

I throw my head back and groan up at the ceiling. "You have got to be kidding me?"

I stand back up, pacing the floor as I glare at her from the corner of my eye. The dog starts nipping at my heels as I walk, forcing me to come to a stop so I don't accidentally step on him. I'm not the romantic type. My mind doesn't formulate these impressive gestures to win a girl over. So, either she has to accept that or it's just not going to happen.

With one last attempted effort, I grab Lynn's arm, hauling her up from her seated position and forcibly, but gently, pressing her up against the wall beside her bed. She gasps in surprise when her back hits the surface, but her eyes remain glued to mine, gleaming with intrigue and excited energy. And then I lift a single shoulder as if to say 'you asked for it' and dip my head, sliding my lips over hers.

The kiss lasts but a second, but it's a powerful, heart-stopping second, and before Lynn can even respond, I pull away, bracing my arms on either side of her head.

"Now that," she says, her eyes still closed as she fights to catch her breath, "is progress."

I drop my face into the crook of her neck and laugh, feeling her shiver as my breath fans across her skin. Feeling invigorated and confident, I tilt my head just enough for my lips to skim her ear.

"Will you date me, Lynn?"

When her hands slide into my hair, cradling me to her for a moment, I swear I almost dissolve into a mist of heated desire. Then ever so slowly, she pulls me away from her until we're just far enough apart that she can catch my eye.

Her face brightens, her lips turning upward as her perfectly white teeth beam at me and then she nods, and I think that's my answer until she pushes me away and replies with an upbeat timbre in her words, "No."

I stand staring at the wall for a moment, a mix of frustration, dejection, and confusion warring beneath my chest. With a quiet groan, I swivel around and pace to the opposite end of the room. When I turn back I find Lynn seated on her bed again with her new pet curled into her lap.

"What's his name?" I ask, trying to mute the ache in my chest with casual conversation. Making my way to them, I take a seat beside her.

"Squeakers," she responds instantly.

"Squeakers?" I lift a single brow in amusement.

"Yeah," she nods. "You haven't heard him? He keeps farting but they're like, really quiet and squeaky."

"Ahhh, Squeakers. Got it."

I smile as I watch her slender fingers stroke the animal's slick fur. Lucky dog.

"I still can't believe you bought me my own puppy?"

"Not your puppy..." I say, reaching for her hand. "Our puppy."

Her eyes narrow as confusion descends over her brows, her mouth opening and then closing again as words fail her. It's the look of astonishment and horror that finally cracks my facade and I drop backwards onto the bed as laughter emanates from my chest.

"I'm kidding," I speak to the ceiling as I bring my hands up behind my head.

When Lynn's fingers slide across my stomach, I feel my breath hitch. Glancing down, I watch her skim them gently across the muscles I've worked years to obtain, and even though theirs a layer of material separating her skin from mine, I swear her fingers are possessed with flames.

Slipping her hand away, she drops down beside me on the bed, her attention riveted to the ceiling as I watch her curiously.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I've just always been tempted to see if they feel as good as they look."

I chuckle softly, returning my gaze to the ceiling. "And did they?"

With a dramatic sigh filled with satisfaction, she whispers, "Definitely."

"Well," I say casually, "They could be all yours if you just say yes."

Humor trickles from her lips, but she remains silent as we both gaze up ahead. Inches separate us, allowing me to relax as my breathing slows. I'm moments away from dozing off into a comfortable slumber when I feel her shift beside me. Peeling my eyes open, I drop my head to the side to find her watching me. I expect her to smile, but her face remains sober, a solemn expression on her face.

"I said no," she tells me softly, "because while you had three weeks to realize you wanted this to work out, I had three weeks to realize that you're not ready."

"Not ready for what?" I ask. "A relationship?"

She nods, her lips flattening in determination.

"You were right all along," she goes on to say. "I'm sure we could have had something wonderful if we'd given it a try, but watching you flounder through your own emotions has made it pretty clear to me that you're still a bit unstable."

I open my mouth to defend myself but she cuts me off.

"You're getting there," she tells me. "I've seen so much improvement, but you need time to figure out you." She jabs my chest softly. "Find out what you really want and if it turns out to be me, then we can go from there. Just..." she runs a hand over my forearm, her face shimmering with compassion, "go live a little bit. Pursue your dream."

"But what if you're my dream." I don't know why I say it because I know it sounds stupid, but I voice it in case it turns out to be a possibility one day. I need her to consider the idea that I might love her enough one day to sacrifice everything for a chance to be with her.

She shakes her head, a quiet laugh trickling from her lips. "I'm not." Turning her head sideways, she looks at me with an earnest strength in her eyes. "Not yet anyway."

---

So, if you've read the Inkitt version, you'll notice I changed things up a bit. Comments on earlier chapters inspired me to make some changes because I realized that Lynn just isn't stupid enough to say yes yet, ya know?

I know some of you were hoping for Lynn to really rip him apart for his behavior, but that's just not her character. She's compassionate to a fault. Though, she did a good job of kinda leading him on in this chapter. Lol. That's her way of getting back at him. 

Now about Jamie... I can't hate him. As frustrating and indecisive as he is, I feel more pity then dislike for him. He's just really lost. I've never been through a tragedy as severe as his, but I can imagine that it'd take a toll on a person's mental stability. At this point, he's nearly desperate for a little bit of stability (in the form of Lynn). The idea of letting go of the only constant in his life is messing him up. That's why he's so confused as to whether he should do the right thing and let her go or pursue something deeper. And he really does like her. There's no question there. He just can't figure out what the right thing to do is. Good thing he's got Lynn to help direct him, huh? 

Those are my thoughts about Jamie... what are yours?

So, there's only one chapter left and then an epilogue (that isn't on Inkitt). How do you all think it's gonna end? :o