Dear Diary, I Think I'm In Love

Will I Ever Get Over It?

I can barely shut my eyes that night. Leslie is sound asleep next to me, while all I think about is how tomorrow is the day we should be celebrating, if life was fair. But clearly, it’s far from that. Because if it were fair, my grandpa would be here with us and we’d be wishing him a happy birthday in the morning.

As I realize that I’m about to start crying, I quickly get up and leave the room as fast as I can. I escape to the window on the hallway and open it, climbing on the roof, that’s covering the porch. I sit a little away from the edge and pull my knees towards my face.

In the next moment, I’m already sniffling. God, why is this happening to me? Why can’t I just move on and stop crying? Everyone else already has, why can’t I? What’s wrong inside my head?

I try to wipe away the tears and stop, but I can’t. I have no idea how much time I spend, sitting there, but I soon hear footsteps coming from inside. I freeze, turning around the moment someone gets near the open window.

As I come eye to eye with Hunter, I freeze. He frowns at sight of me and steps outside. Oh, come on, this can’t be real. “I’m fine, I’m going back to bed. You should go too,” I blurt out before he gets the chance to say a word. He stops directly in front of the window, staring down at me.

“I was in bed this whole time, listening to you sniffling. I’m not going back until you tell me what’s wrong,” he announces quietly, but with determination in his voice. I stare at him in shock. Was I really this loud? “The window was open,” he then explains, making me glance to the other side.

The window on my far right belongs to the spare room, where Aiden and Hunter are staying. I almost shake my head at myself as I notice it’s pushed open. When I feel Hunter sit down next to me, I look back at him.

“I’m fine,” I lie. He scoffs. Yeah, I know, I don’t even convince myself with that tone. I notice how he left some respectful space between us. I can’t help but raise my eyebrows at that ever so slightly. I guess I’m not his type. If I was, he’d already have his arm swung around my shoulders. I’m sure of it.

He’s gazing up into the sky, not giving me a second glance. He also doesn’t say anything. for quite some time. I’m not sure why I’m even sitting here, but I don’t feel like moving. I could almost fall asleep right here. Even if the nights are significantly colder. Fall is truly around the corner.

“He loved the stars. I still remember the way he spoke of them. Like they were living, breathing beings. Just like you and I,” he speaks up all of a sudden, a serene smile appearing on his face. I stiffen as I realize he’s talking about my grandpa. I press my lips together, knowing that I’ll start crying again if I respond to Hunter’s words.

I draw in a sharp breath, making his head turn towards me. I then breathe out shakily, while he stares at me unsurely. Like he doesn’t know what to do with me.

“I’m sorry that you had to lose him so soon,” he then speaks up again. Those words are the final straw. I close my eyes as pain wraps its nasty claws around my heart again, making it bleed drops of sorrow. My lower lips trembles and I burst into tears again. God, I’m so embarrassing.

I cover my face, not wanting Hunter to stare at me as I cry. But not even a full second later, I can feel him reaching out, his hand resting on my shoulder in an unsure way. I stiffen, not knowing how to react. But as I don’t push him away, and keep crying, he suddenly gets the courage to move forward.

He scoots closer and pulls me into a hug, making my whole body tremble. And I have no idea what makes me tremble more, the grief refusing to let me live in peace, or the danger of being so close to Hunter.

Warmth radiates from his body, along with a faint scent of sandalwood and something spicy, resembling pepper. It feels nice, especially with the thin pajamas I’m wearing. In that moment, I realize what I’m doing. I’m crying in another boy’s arms, with only a thin layer of fabric covering my body. Perrie, you have a boyfriend!

The thought affects me like a shower and I pull away from Hunter like he just burned me, shaking my head. “I’m sorry for waking you up,” I tell him as I get up, then escape through the window before he’s able to respond to my words.

I look over my shoulder just as he steps inside, staring after me worriedly. But I don’t give him the chance to come after me. I slip back into my room, closing the door behind me quietly, then climb into bed.

As my head hits the pillow, I find myself even more awake than before. What the hell are you doing, Perrie? No matter how hard I try to find the answer to that question, I don’t. I’m so confused that I can barely force myself to fall sleep.

In the morning, I wake up with a splitting headache. It’s no wonder, with all the crying I went through last night. Last night. Oh my God. I’m a terrible person. I can’t believe I let my guard down like that, what was I thinking?!

I try to avoid Hunter’s intense gaze during breakfast. No, scratch that, I try to avoid it for the whole day. I force Leslie to sit next to him literally everywhere. I always find an excuse. I have to go to the bathroom, so she has to squeeze on the bench next to him, while I sit at the edge.

I spend the morning with Leslie and my grandma, we help her prepare a pie. But what I find weird is that she’s not cooking anything else. At least until the moment that my mom urges us to get ready for lunch. “I thought we were going out for dinner,” I remark in response, frowning. What good is my pretty dress going to do now? I can’t dress so fancily for a simple lunch.

“Change of plans,” she simply says, then smiles. I turn my head just in time to see my grandma winking at her. These two are up to something. I’m sure of it.

“Fine,” I simply remark, then head upstairs to change. Leslie follows after me and ten minutes later, we’re already going back down, realizing that everyone is waiting for us. Luckily, I sit between my mom and Leslie on the ride to the restaurant, because we make our grandma sit in the front and the boys in the back.

The lunch itself is … normal, if I can call it that way. I manage to keep my tears to myself. Even as dad raises his glass to make a toast to grandpa. He’d turn seventy-four today, if he were still with us. “To dad,” he says with a heavy heart. “I know that he’s with us right now, even if we can’t see him. Happy birthday,” he then concludes shortly.

As I hear his voice waver, I swallow a big lump inside my throat. But the moment I look around the table and meet Hunter’s sympathetic gaze, my waterfalls simply dry out. The memory of how I threw myself into his arms last night is vivid enough for me to put the glass down without taking a sip. I can almost feel the blood disappearing from my face.

I can barely eat, which makes my mom ask if I don’t like the food. I just tell her that I feel sick, which gets her off my back at least. But I can feel someone else watching me. My best friend is far too observant not to notice that something is out of the ordinary.

She comes to the bathroom with me and practically forces me to admit what happened yesterday. She then stares at me with her arms crossed against her chest, not seeming very pleased with me. “Pez, you’ll really have to clear up some things with yourself, you do realize that?” she wonders.

I stare at her like she’s crazy. “What are you talking about?” I ask, even if I already have a hunch what she’s hinting at. She throws her hands in the air in frustration, then shakes her head.

“Never mind. You’re way too stubborn to listen to me,” she remarks in response. And I suddenly find myself at loss of words. But I keep thinking about what she said to me as we get back to the table. It’s still going through my head later, as we’re already driving back to the house.

I also can’t believe I managed to get through this lunch in grandpa’s honor, without sobbing. I’d call that progress, but I know why I didn’t cry very well. I couldn’t handle Hunter if he tried to comfort me again.

“Alright kids, you’re free until seven now,” my mom speaks up as we stop in front of the house. I glance at her in confusion and she looks at me with a small smile. “We’ll be expecting you behind the house in those fancy clothes I asked you to bring,” she then adds. Huh? What is that supposed to be about?