Losing Hope

it’s too late to go back and make it right with her. I don’t want her forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. You and I both know she’s better off without me. But I needed to come here and apologize to you because I know just from watching you how much you care about her. It kills me that I hurt her but I know that my hurting her indirectly hurt you, too. So, I’m sorry.”
    I keep my eyes trained on his. He tilts his head slightly and chews on his bottom lip while he studies me.
    “Her birthday is next Saturday,” I say, picking up the sack. “I got her this and I want you to give it to her. I don’t want her to know it’s from me. Just tell her you got it for her. I know she’ll like it.” I take the e-reader out of the sack and toss it to him. He catches it, then looks down at it.
    He stares at it for a few minutes, then flips it over and looks at the back of it. He tosses it on the bed beside him, then clasps his hands together again, staring down at the floor. I wait for him to speak because I’ve said everything I came here to say.
    “Can I just say one thing?” he says, lifting his gaze.
    I nod. I figured he’d have way more than just one thing to say after all that.
    “I think what pissed me off the most is the fact that I liked her with you,” he says. “I liked seeing how happy she was that day. And even though it was just thirty minutes that I watched you with her at lunch before you went and flipped the fuck out,” he says, waving his arm in the air, “it just seemed so right . You seemed right for her and she seemed right for you and . . . I don’t know, Holder. You just don’t make any sense. You didn’t make sense when you walked away from her that day and you sure aren’t making any sense right now. But I can tell you care about her. I just don’t understand you. I don’t understand you at all and it pisses me off because if there’s one thing in the world I’m good at, it’s understanding people.”
    I wasn’t counting while he was talking, but I’m pretty sure that was more than just one thing. “Can you just trust that I really do care about her?” I say. “I want what’s best for her and although it kills me that I’m not what’s best for her, I want to see her happy.”
    Breckin smiles, then reaches beside him and picks up the e-reader. “Well, I think once I give her this awesome present I spent my life savings on, she’ll forget all about Dean Holder. I’m pretty sure it’ll be all about sawdust and sunshine once she dives into the books I’m about to load on here.”
    I smile, even though I have no idea what he means by sawdust and sunshine.

Chapter Thirty-and-a-half
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    Les,
    Breckin is pretty cool. You would like him. I went to his house Friday night and gave him the gift I bought for Sky. We talked things out for a while and I don’t think he wants to kick my ass anymore. Not that he could have. But that’s what solidified my respect for him. The fact that he was so mad he wanted to fight me, even though he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he would win.
    I wasn’t sure how going over there would turn out, but I ended up staying until almost midnight. I’ve never really been into video games, but we played Modern Warfare and it was nice just letting my mind take a break for a while. Although I’m not sure how much of a break it took because Breckin made it a point to bring up how much I talked about Sky. He doesn’t understand why I won’t just apologize to her if I obviously like her as much as I do. Unfortunately, I can’t explain it to him, so he’ll never understand it. But he seems okay with that.
    Neither of us thinks it’s a good idea to let Sky know we hung out. I don’t want her upset with Breckin, but now it feels like I’m somehow cheating on her by being friends with him. But I can assure you, Les. I wasn’t there for his gay parts.
    H

Chapter Thirty-one
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    “What do you want to do?” I ask.
    “I don’t care what we do,” Daniel says.
    “Me neither.”
    We’re sitting in his driveway. I’m leaned back in my seat with my foot propped on his dash. He’s in the same position in the driver’s seat, only his hand is hanging loosely from the steering wheel and his head is resting against the headrest. He’s staring out the window and he’s being unusually distant.
    “What’s wrong with you?” I ask.
    He continues to stare out the window and sighs a heavy, depressing sigh. “Broke up with Val