Dolphin Tale 6

Chapter [25]

C h a p t e r   T w e n t y   F i v e

IT WAS AS THOUGH TIME had frozen and all that Sawyer could hear was the steady drumbeat his heart was imitating—an ominous and frightening bass line to a discordant, polyphonic melody line that made nails scraping against a blackboard seem like pleasant music to the ears.

"Sawyer?"

Hazel searched his face, looking for any kind of emotion, but there wasn't any—none whatsoever. She waved a hand in front of his face; Sawyer's blank stare was beginning to creep her out.

"Did you hear my father talking about forgiveness? And how sometimes we just need to learn to forgive and forget and put our differences aside?"

"There's something you need to understand, Hazel," Sawyer began, gazing evenly at her.

Hazel swallowed nervously. "What do you mean? What do I need to understand, Sawyer? I already know that you're angry and frustrated and disappointed in me. What else is there for me to understand?"

"Your father forgot to mention that forgiveness isn't easy, Hazel. It's not as easy as counting from one to ten or reciting the alphabet. It's a lot harder than that."

Hazel swallowed again, nodding, her heart fluttering nervously. "Okay . . ."

"I did some thinking after our argument, and you're right; I have changed. But you know what? So have you! You used to accept help whenever it was needed, but now you don't. I wasn't here for two days because I was trying to get a grip on my emotions so that you wouldn't break even further, and when I did come back to offer my support, you just pushed me away. The thing is, do you understand how frustrating it is to be pushed away every time I try to help you? For goodness sake, Hazel, I'm trying to help you, not hinder you!"

Sawyer threw his hands up into the air, his gaze hardening as he leaned back against the trunk of the pine tree.

"You can't keep pushing away everyone who tries to help you, Hazel."

An awkward pause; a heavy sigh. Then: "I don't think I can do this anymore."

Another pause; a sharp intake of breath.

"What?"

"You heard what I said, Hazel," Sawyer said tiredly, sighing in exasperation. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"What do you mean by this, Sawyer?" Hazel asked, her eyes wide. "If by this you mean . . ." she trailed off, her eyes widening, if possible, even further.

"I mean this—us; our relationship!" Sawyer sighed. "I'm sorry; I just don't think we're going to work out."

"What are you talking about, Sawyer? Of course we're going work out! Did you not hear what my father said? We have to learn to forgive and forget; to put the past behind us."

A flame had kindled within Sawyer's eyes and its heat was slowly spreading through his body, sending a roaring sensation of anger and frustration through his veins.

"I just told you that forgiveness isn't as easy as your father says it is!" he hissed, narrowing his eyes in menace. "I cannot forgive you, Hazel, because you need to learn to stop pushing people away when you're in need. You need to learn that we've both changed, and maybe things just . . . aren't going to work out between the two of us anymore. I can't forgive you, and if you still don't understand why, I—"

"So we're over?" Hazel asked quietly, her eyes downcast. "There's no more us?"

"No, Hazel. What I'm saying is that we need a break—we need to distance ourselves to give each other time to think about our relationship and figure a few things out; maybe we thought we were, but perhaps we were never intended to become more than just good friends."