“Yeah, I know how you take your coffee, Flynn,” I muttered, handing him the mug.

Flynn looked at me for a minute. “You want to bring me lunch,” he stated.

I nodded, not sure why I was pushing the subject. But it seemed important. Irrationally so.

“You want to eat with me,” Flynn continued. I knew that diverging from his daily schedule could potentially cause him problems. It could leave him feeling off balance and easy to anger. I knew it was most likely too spontaneous for him.

I was just about to take the offer back when he agreed to the plan, shocking the hell out of me.

“I’d like to see you today. We can have lunch together,” he declared firmly, as though making a very important proclamation.

“Really?” I asked, my eyes widening. I wondered whether I should mark this momentous day on the calendar to remember it. It was akin to asking him to jump out of an airplane without a parachute.

“Yes. That sounds nice. We can have lunch in my office. It’ll be quieter there than in my classroom. I’ll eat whatever you bring me,” Flynn announced and he seemed almost proud of himself. And I knew to him it was a big deal. It was an acquiescence that was most likely very difficult for him to make. But he was making it…for me.

My dream Flynn flashed through my head and I violently pushed him away. Murdering him before he could take root and taunt me mercilessly with his smiles and handholding and kisses without pulling away.

I smiled at my real Flynn, the man with a mess of faults as complicated as my own.

Flynn smiled back and then reached out to take my hand. I startled at the contact, but then felt warm all over as he squeezed my fingers.

“I love you,” I said, meaning it with every single, tiny, jagged piece of me.

He didn’t respond. He never did. But he held my hand.

And for that brief moment, it was enough.

Chapter Eleven

-Ellie-

I saw the new kid walking down the sidewalk away from the school. He was staring at the watch on his wrist and mumbling to himself.

Dania and the rest of the group had headed into town to hang out at the arcade. I told them I’d meet them there but had instead gone to the library to read.

I liked going to the school library after school. It was quiet and no one bothered me. I could read the books I didn’t dare let anyone know I was interested in. I was currently reading Jane Eyre. I liked how romantic Mr. Rochester was. Even though he was obviously hiding something. I loved getting lost in stories. It was a hell of a lot better than the shit life I had.

I needed an escape desperately.

Something about Flynn interested me.

Like my books, he was something different from everything else I knew.

We didn’t talk much. Sometimes he commented on my piercings or what I was wearing. He seemed a little too fixated on the colors I dyed my hair. He was definitely strange. But in a good way. He said what he wanted without worrying about consequences. He had no filter and though I’d never say it aloud, I appreciated that.

His honesty was nice, even when it hurt. It was better to hear the truth than sustained by a lie.

I watched him. I couldn’t help it. He would draw pictures in the margins of his notebooks, and they were amazing. Sometimes it was a building or a flower. Other times I noticed that he would draw me.

That made me feel something inside I had never felt before. It was warm and spread out from the center of my chest to my fingers and toes.

No one had ever drawn a picture of me before. He made me look beautiful. Was that how he saw me? As something beautiful?

It seemed unlikely. I was trash. Worthless. Ugly. I had been told that enough times to believe it.

But Flynn appeared to see something else.

“Hey!” I called out but Flynn kept walking. I found myself jogging after him.

“Hey!” I called again, and this time I noticed his steps quickened. Was he running away from me?

Not that I blamed him. I wasn’t nice to him. And Stu and Dania were downright cruel. I could admit that I felt bad when they teased Flynn. Because he didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

“Flynn, stop!” I yelled, reaching out to grab ahold of his arm. He whipped around to face me, pushing my hands away.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed in my face, and I realized my mistake. Flynn Hendrick didn’t like to be touched. He hated it. I understood the feeling. When touch only led to something bad, it was easier to avoid it all together.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, and I didn’t understand what he was talking about. I smiled. He made it easy to smile.

“Why would I be mad at you?” I asked him.

“You were frowning and your mouth looks mean. I thought that meant you were mad,” he said and I found myself smiling wider.

There was that honesty again. I consumed it hungrily.

So I walked home with him that day and he let me into his house. He gave me some of his mom’s homemade banana bread and we watched TV together.

And I smiled a lot.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy.

**

“Ellie!” Jeb called out, looking up when I walked into the convenience store.

After Flynn left for work I had spent the next few hours calling and following up with several places where I had submitted resumes, ignoring the twinge of mortification at being so blatantly pathetic. No one had much to tell me. Some seemed annoyed by my calls. Others were downright rude.

I suppressed the urge to tell them where to shove their shitty jobs. Call it character growth. Even though I was beginning to feel like I was banging my head against a wall.