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Jackson was avoiding me.
It might've just been a coincidence that whenever no one else was home, he was nowhere to be found.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't a coincidence.
Jackson was a coward.
That night on the rooftop felt dangerously close to flirting — he even vaguely told me something about his mom. And now everything was back to normal.
Except it wasn't.
If everything was back to normal, I wouldn't be wondering what I did wrong for him to ignore me.
I wouldn't be wondering where the hell he was, and what he was doing.
I wouldn't be wishing for him to talk to me.
Thanksgiving was right around the corner, and I was dreading it for obvious reasons.
It didn't help that Mom loved to host, which meant no showing up late when the leftovers were sparse.
The idea of someone knowing about my eating habits was growing on me. To have someone to talk to in times like this. To have someone to lean on when the pressure of meeting normal standards was too much.
I can't believe I thought that person could be Jackson — only for a second, but it crossed my mind.
And I felt like a freaking idiot now, because he was back to proving he didn't care.
I was home alone, finishing up my homework in the kitchen, when my stomach started cramping.
I tapped my phone screen to see it was already past eight and sighed, dropping my pencil on my notebook.
Everyone's work schedules had been working in my favor all week; I rarely had to be around anyone during meal times.
It was actually pretty easy to forget to eat when I didn't have to do it in front of anybody. I was so used to the empty feeling, sometimes I didn't even notice it.
I ate a biscuit and eggs this morning, though. Or no, that might've been yesterday morning.
Have I eaten anything since then?
The kitchen went a little out of focus when I stepped away from the barstool, and it kinda felt like I was tilting, but I'm pretty sure I was standing straight.
Then gravity proved me wrong and I stumbled into the stool, making it screech against the tile, but I heard it through ear muffs I didn't know I was wearing.
I gripped the countertop to steady myself and groaned, resting my head on the cold surface.
I'd never been on the verge of passing out before; the idea freaked me out.
