Reminders of Him

prison. When you get out of here, make sure you hit play so you don’t forget
to move forward.”
I’m scared to move forward, though. What if the only way I can move
forward is without Diem?
“Can I ask you a question?” Ledger says. I glance over at him, and
he’s already finished his food. I haven’t even taken three bites of my burger.
Ledger is good looking, but not in the way Scotty was. Scotty was
more the boy next door. Ledger isn’t the boy next door. Ledger looks like
the guy who might beat up the boy next door. He’s rough around the edges,
and the fact that he owns a bar doesn’t soothe that image any.
He doesn’t come off quite the way he looks when he opens his mouth,
though, and that’s the most important thing.
“What happens if they won’t let you meet her?” he asks.
I’m definitely not hungry now. Just the thought of it is nauseating. I
shrug. “I guess I’ll move away. I don’t want them to feel like I’m a threat.”
I force myself to eat a french fry, only because I don’t know what else to
say.
Ledger takes a sip of his tea. The truck is quiet. It feels like there
might be an apology hanging in the air between us, but I’m not sure who it
belongs to.

---

Ledger claims it when he shifts in his seat and says, “I feel like I owe
you an apology for stopping you from—”
“It’s okay,” I say, cutting him off. “You were doing what you thought
you needed to do to protect Diem. As mad as I am for my own sake . . . I’m
happy Diem has people in her life who protect her that fiercely.”
He’s staring at me with his head slightly tilted. He processes my
response, tucking it away somewhere without giving me any clue as to what
he’s thinking. He nudges his head toward my uneaten food. “You aren’t
hungry?”
“I think I’m too wound up to eat right now. I’ll take it home.” I put my
burger back in the sack, along with the rest of my fries. I fold the sack up
and set it on the seat between us. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
I lean my head against the seat and study his face. “Do you hate me?”
I’m surprised when the question leaves my mouth, but I need to know
where his head is at. Sometimes, like when we were at his house, it feels
like he hates me as much as Scotty’s parents do.
But then sometimes, like right now, he looks at me like he might
empathize with my situation. I need to know who my enemies are, and I
need to know if there’s anyone on my team. If I only have enemies, what
am I even still doing here?
Ledger leans into his driver’s side door, resting his elbow on the
windowsill. He stares straight ahead and rubs his jaw. “I formed an opinion
of you in my head after Scotty’s death. All these years, it’s like you’ve been
some random person online—someone I could make strong judgments
about and place blame on without actually having to know. But now that
we’re face to face . . . I don’t know that I want to say all the things to you
I’ve always wanted to say.”
“But you still feel them?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Kenna.” He shifts in his seat so
that his attention is more directed at me. “That first night you walked into
my bar, I thought you were the most intriguing girl I’d ever met. But then
when I saw you the next day in front of Patrick and Grace’s house, I
thought you were the most disgusting person I’d ever met.”
His honesty fills my chest with embarrassment. “And tonight?” I ask
quietly.

---

He looks me in the eye. “Tonight . . . I’m starting to wonder if you’re
the saddest girl I’ve ever met.”
I smile what is probably the most painful-looking smile, simply
because I don’t want to cry. “All of the above.”
His smile is almost as painful. “I was afraid of that.” There’s a
question in his eyes. Lots of questions. So many questions, I have to look
away from his face to avoid them.
Ledger gathers his trash and gets out of the truck and walks it over to a
trash can. He lingers outside his truck for a moment. When he reappears at
the driver’s side door, he doesn’t get in. He just grips the top of the truck
and stares at me. “What happens if you have to move away? What are your
plans? Your next step?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.
I’ve been too afraid to let go of the hope that they’ll change their minds.”
That’s starting to feel like the direction this is going, though. And Ledger of
all people knows where their heads are at. “Do you think they’ll ever give
me a chance?”
Ledger doesn’t answer. He doesn’t shake his head or nod. He just
completely ignores the question and gets in his truck and backs out of the
parking lot.