Chapter Seventeen
TRE
On the way to the high school in Mrs. Kringle’s giant vintage station wagon, I stare out the window, unable to stop beating myself up.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I wish I could taste your sugar cookies.
Could I sound like more of a f*****g p*****t?
But damn, watching her eat that sugar cookie, my insides were tearing apart. I hate everything she told me at the diner, which I asked for by asking her questions about her life. I should have kept her at arm’s length like I had been. Our hatred could have remained. Losing parents at nine, being raised by a man she didn’t feel loved by, failing at a business. Thinking that you’re going to die alone? f**k me, I’d have to be a cold bastard not to want to pour some happiness into her life.
It’s one thing to make he
