Page 5 of Damaged Boys Don't Fall For Bubbly Girls

“Yep.”

“And you’re sure you have everything you need for school tomorrow?” Mom adds.

“Uh huh.”

They exchange a glance.

“And how did it go with Lexi?” Dad asks.

I shrug. “Fine.”

“Did you guys talk?”

I shrug again.

They’re quiet, maybe waiting for me to say more, but I don’t have anything to add. It seems like they want to ask more aboutme and my former best friend, but they decide to drop it. Maybe they don’t want to push.

They stay a little while longer, making sure I’m okay before exiting my room. I stare at the open door, my thoughts on one person and one person alone.

My parents didn’t say it, but I know what they were thinking. That I didn’t treat Lexi right. I was so hurt and angry that I didn’t consider her feelings. Even though her close friend didn’t die in an accident like mine did, she still lost a best friend—me. I left her for four years and never contacted her. And I purposely shut her out after she reached out a few times. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now. I was a really, really big jerk.

And I still am a jerk. Because I’m not sure I can be close to her again. I mean, I want to, but she reminds me of all the pain I went through. She used to mean comfort and happiness. Now she means guilt and confusion.

I’ve ruined everything between us and I don’t think I can ever go back to the person I used to be. Lexi wants that guy back in her life.

She doesn’t want the damaged Brock Hastings.

Chapter Three

Lexi

He’s here. He’s home. Brock ishome.

Leaning my back against the front door of his house, I take a few seconds to catch my breath. Seeing him in the flesh, after four long, torturous years…

The truth is, I haven’t really seen his face since the day he left for Boston. When we said our final goodbye. I almost got a glimpse of him two years ago at the engagement party of Xavier Hall and Lily Hastings—Brock’s cousin. He called his older sister, Zoey, to wish the happy couple congratulations for him, but as soon as he realized I was near, he quickly ended the call. It felt like the sharpest knife stabbed me through my heart. But I understood. I always understood.

Gosh, Brock looks so good. Like, sosogood. He’s very tall—I bet taller than his dad—and his face is so…perfect. It still holds the light and sweetness he always had as a kid, but there’s no mistaking the darkness, pain, and heartache there, too. His eyes haven’t lost their kindness, but they’re also shadowed with loss. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, right? Well, I can tell that Brock has a wonderful, lovely soul. It’s just broken and full of ache.

Will I be able to help him heal? Should I? I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is he even here to stay or is he just visiting? I assumed he’s here to stay because of all the boxes. I didn’t think about asking him because he seemed so shocked by my visit. I don’t think he was upset—from the way his eyes lit up, I have a feeling he was happy that I came. But he didn’t say a single word. Almost like hecouldn’t.

But he hugged me back. And it felt so good. It was like I was hugging a part of me that was lost for so long. Whenever Ihugged Brock years ago, I always felt safe, and I felt that way this time, too. Amongst other things, but I don’t think I could bear entertaining those kinds of thoughts…

Shaking my head, I peel myself off the Hastings’ door and start my trek home, trying to shove all these consuming thoughts out of my head. My house isn’t that far from Brock’s—about ten minutes. My phone has been dinging every few minutes, but I ignored it because I was so focused on Brock. But I slip it out of my jeans pocket now and scan the screen. It’s my friends’ group chat.

Theo: Wait, Brock is back? As in, in Edenbury?

Gael: Yeah. My cousin passed his house as he got out of the car.

Nate: Did he have bags with him?

Gael: Dunno.

Nate: So maybe he’s just visiting his parents.

Dean: I texted him a few times, but he didn’t answer. Did he change his number?

Cooper: Maybe he’s ignoring us like he’s been doing the last four years.