Tuesday, November 7
Bored.
This morning, the snow is kind of brown and gross, so I decide that I’m no longer upset about not being able to go outside to play in the snow. I’m not sure I’d want to touch the brown snow anyway, it’s kind of gross.
But I still feel trapped.
And bored.
I really hope something changes soon.
Sander and I even got into a fight during my training because I only ran four miles—but it was literally all I could run. He said I wasn’t pushing myself enough. So, we fought about it. And he’s been giving me the silent treatment ever since.
It’s fine. Whatever.
I get his point on it. I need to train. I need to be better, because we never know what’s going to happen. But I just couldn’t run and he needs to understand that, too.
Sometimes it’s okay to take a break.
I’m pretty sure he’s not actually mad at me. He’s just sick of being in this stupid house as much as I am. And until we’re allowed to leave, things aren’t going to be good.
Something has to happen soon, right?
Sander pretty much doesn’t talk to me all day, until we’re about to go to bed for the night. Honestly, I’m a little surprised when he follows me up the stairs. I figured he wouldn’t even want to sleep by me.
I’m not mad at him for being mad at me. I know he’s not really mad at me. He’s upset by the fact that he’s trapped inside. Sander is the kind of guy who needs to be outside, enjoying fresh air. And even though it’s not my fault we’re stuck in here, he’s chosen to be mad at me over something trivial because it makes him feel better.
“I didn’t think you’d want to sleep with me tonight,” I say.
He laughs. “I always want to sleep with you.”
My face warms at the implication. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he says.
“At least you’re talking to me now,” I say.
“I was cranky today and figured everybody would be happier if I just didn’t talk,” he says.
I grin. “Oh. That’s why you didn’t talk? I thought you were mad at me.”
“I did get mad at you this morning. Then I realized I was being ridiculous,” he says. “By the way, I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“It’s okay,” I say. I actually like his explanation. I mean... I get being cranky. We’ve been in this stupid house for... too many days. And we’re all going a bit stir crazy. At least he apologized for it, now we can move on.
“You can yell at me,” Sander says. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“If I’d yelled at you, it would’ve just made you more upset earlier,” I say.
“It’s true,” he says. “You’re smart for your age.”
“I thought we were past the whole age issue. You’re only a year and three months older than I am,” I say.
“I didn’t mean that. I just mean, most people our age don’t have quite this understanding on how things work,” he says. “If you were any other girl, we’d have probably spent the day yelling at each other.”
“Unless you have something worth fighting for, I think fighting is pointless,” I say. “So, if I fight you because you’re cranky, all it is doing is making you crankier.”
“That’s smart,” he says.
“Maybe you can leave the house tomorrow.”
“We can’t, Phoenix. You know that.”
“I can’t, but you can,” I say. “Leave me here with Hunter and Jax. You can go walk around the city or even go grab a bite to eat somewhere.”
“That’s not fair to you.”
“Life isn’t always fair,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “Besides, you can tell me every single detail about your trip out when you get back.”
His mouth goes slack and he just looks at me. “I could live a thousand lives and still never deserve you.”
“Sander, what are you talking about?” I ask, my eyebrows scrunched up.
“I mean...” his voice trails off, and he looks at me. “You’re an incredible person and you deserve to be with somebody who is so much better than I am. I am so glad that you chose me.”
Somebody better than him?
“There is nobody better than you,” I say, shaking my head. “At least, not to me. Not for me.”
He steps back, like he’s shocked at what I’m saying. To be honest, I’m a little surprised I said it myself, but I mean it.
“Am I too young to feel like this?” I ask. “Am I too young to know that you’re it for me? Too inexperienced?”
He shakes his head. “No. I think society will tell you that we’re too young. But we’re not. You’re it for me, too. There is nobody else I could ever imagine spending my life with.”
Is it possible to be scared and excited at the same time? Because that is how I feel.
Scared—not at the thought of spending my life with him, but of people thinking we’re too young to be thinking this way. And excited because I know nobody else will ever measure up to him. Not for me.
But nobody else has to know. Just because Sander and I know doesn’t mean the world has to know, until we’re ready to tell them.
Sander takes a step closer to me, closing the gap between us.
“I love you,” he says.
I will never get tired of hearing those words from Sander.
“I love you, too,” I say.
Sander’s lips press against mine and claim my mouth. He kisses me softly. And I love it when he kisses me like this, but right now I need more. Almost as if he can read my mind, he obliges and starts kissing me harder. It feels as though my blood rushes through my body. I am completely captivated by him. By his kiss.
He pulls back, just an inch, but I whine in protest.
I am so not done kissing him.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, then reclaims my lips.
I’ve never been kissed like this before. Even the kisses we’ve shared haven’t been so... intense. And we’ve definitely never been so alone. The thought is equally frightening and exciting.
Sander and I walk until the backs of my legs hit the bed and I fall against it, bringing him with me. We don’t break our kiss. I don’t want to stop, if I’m being honest.
I’ve never felt anything as real or as intense. And I decide right then that every single part of me I have to give is his. I know I will never regret this moment, because nothing has ever been more perfect or beautiful, even under the circumstances.
I am his just as much as he is mine.
Sander’s hips grind against mine and I feel just how much he wants me, too.
We don’t stop kissing and we give each other everything.