Losing Hope

all by herself.
    “Dean!” she yelled again.
    Mom and I were both frozen. We couldn’t believe it. She was standing right in front of us, looking for me. After two years of not knowing who took her or where she was, we had finally found her. I started to walk forward, but I was suddenly shoved aside by a teenage boy rushing toward her. When he reached her, he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.
    “Ashley! Thank God!” he said, pulling her to him.
    “Dean,” she said to the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I got lost.”
    He picked her up. “I know, sis. I’m so sorry. You’re okay now.”
    She pulled her tear-streaked face away from his chest and she glanced in our direction.
    She wasn’t Hope.
    She wasn’t Hope at all.
    And I wasn’t the Dean she was looking for.
    Mom squeezed my hand and knelt down in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” she said. “I thought it was her, too.”
    A sob broke free from my chest and I cried. I cried so damn hard, Les. Mom wrapped her arms around me and she started crying, too, because I don’t think she knew that an eight-year-old could have his heart crushed like that.
    But I was crushed. My heart broke all over again that day.
    And I never wanted to hear the name Dean again.
    H

Chapter Sixteen
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    I practically skip down the stairs and into the kitchen. It’s the second Monday of school and just thinking about my attitude when I woke up last week as opposed to this morning makes me laugh. I never in a million years imagined I’d be so consumed with the thought of a girl as I have been. Since the second I left her house Saturday night, I’ve done nothing but eat, breathe, and sleep with her on my mind.
    “So how are you liking Sky?” my mom asks. She’s seated at the kitchen table eating her breakfast and reading the paper. I’m surprised she remembers her name. I only mentioned her once. I shut the refrigerator door and walk to the bar.
    “She’s great,” I say. “I like her a lot.”
    My mom puts down the paper and cocks her head. “ She? ” she says with an arched eyebrow. I don’t understand her confusion. I just stare at her until she shakes her head and laughs. “Oh, Jesus,” she says. “You’ve got it bad.”
    Still confused. “What do you mean? You asked how I liked Sky and I answered you.”
    She’s laughing even harder now. “I said school , Holder. I asked how you were liking school .”
    Oh.
    Maybe I do have it bad.
    “Shut up.” I laugh, embarrassed.
    She stops laughing and picks the newspaper up, holding it out in front of her. I grab my drink and my backpack and head toward the door. “Well?” she asks. “How do you like school ?”
    I roll my eyes at her. “It’s fine,” I say, backing out of the kitchen. “But I like Sky more.”
    I walk to the car and shove my backpack inside. I wish I had thought to offer to pick her up today, but after spending most of Sunday texting back and forth, we agreed that we would take things slow. We decided not to run together in the mornings. She said it would be too much, too soon, and I definitely want to keep it at her pace, so I agreed. However, I can’t deny the fact that I was a little disappointed that she wants to run alone. I want to be around her every second of the day, but I also know she’s right. We spent one weekend together and it already feels like I’ve connected with her on a much deeper level than with any other girl I’ve dated. It’s a good feeling, but it also scares the hell out of me.
    Before I back out of the driveway, I pull my phone out and text her.
    I don’t know if your ego needs deflating today. I’ll judge for myself when I finally get to see you in fifteen minutes.
    I set my phone down and back out of the driveway. When I make it to the first stop sign, I pick my phone back up and text her again.
    Fourteen minutes.
    I keep the phone in my hand and text her again when another minute has passed.
    Thirteen minutes.
    I do this every minute until I pull into the school parking lot and all the minutes have passed.
    When I reach the classroom I peek through the window of the door. She’s seated in the back of the room next to a conveniently empty desk. My pulse kicks up a notch just from seeing her again. I open the door and walk inside and her face immediately lights up with a smile as soon as she sees me.
    I reach the back of the room and begin to lay my backpack down on the empty desk at the same time some dude tries to set his