Super Secret Santa

That was about to change now, though. Respect was earned and she was doing the opposite. From now on, I would think of her only as Mark’s grandma, not as my own family.

It made me feel better to realize I didn’t have to feel so wounded by her—she was just someone out to get me, and not a person close to me like I used to hope for. At least I was accepting reality.

Then I thought about Neil, and the lovemaking we had shared together. I had never felt like that before and couldn’t imagine ever having such a close bond with anyone else.

Of course, I wouldn’t be willing to have mind-blowing sex in exchange for being treated badly, but I wasn’t. I had no proof Neil had anything but respect and maybe even love for me.

Even the way he talked about me in high school was like he saw a different girl than every other boy back then had seen. He saw past the big sweatshirts and hoodies and saw me as something beautiful.

I hated to admit it but maybe Angela was right. I shouldn’t be so skeptical and dwell on the negative all the time. Every thought and doubt that I let my mind go to now, and even back when Cindy told me Neil was going to trick me, was just my perception that had developed out of my own trust issues.

I believed the unbelievable. I felt that people I knew weren’t worthy of trust and made Neil into a bad guy both times.

Maybe Neil was right, too, and I was scared of my feelings. There had to be some reason why I kept believing the worst in Neil without evidence.

I couldn’t keep doing this or I would lose him, and I knew now that I didn’t want that.

Of course, Donna was the reason for all of this and not Neil.

Why am I making this so hard for him?

That was the million-dollar question, to which I didn’t have the greatest answer.

All I knew for sure was that I had to stop doing that, if Neil and I had any chance for a happy future together.Chapter 10Neil

I still couldn’t believe Becca was doing this and shutting down again, or at least shutting me out. Apparently, this was going to be a pattern with her.

I had called her a bunch of times, and each time it went straight to voicemail. After leaving five messages, I decided to wait and not come off as a stalker, but that was two days ago.

I had called my mom yesterday, even though I had spoken to her early Christmas morning. I needed her advice. I told her about Becca, and the night before and what happened with her mother-in-law.

“Is this the same Becca from high school?”

“How do you know about Becca when you never met her?”

“Neil. Honey. Don’t be upset but I read your journal your senior year of high school.”

“Mom. Are you freaking kidding me?”

“You were brooding and difficult that last month and I was worried. I wasn’t sure if it was trouble with Cindy or worrying about finals and your football scholarship. And then I’m reading about you wanting to break up with Cindy to ask Becca to Prom, only to be turned down. I never liked Cindy, but Becca didn’t seem any better from what I read.”

“You should have asked me what was wrong.”

“And you would have told me?”

“Probably not, but I don’t remember you even trying.”

I sighed and tried to move past my annoyance with her invasion of my privacy. I told her about my talk with Becca on Christmas Eve and finding out that Cindy was the reason Becca had turned me down.

“But I don’t even know how she knew I planned to do that,” I said, after I finished the story. “It’s not like I told her. I’m not that dumb.”

“Hmmm. Well, maybe she found out the same way I did? You know, Cindy came over one day after school and asked to run up to your room to get a lipstick she said she had left,” my mom mused. “She was up there a while, and it’s not like you made the notebook difficult to find. You just stuffed it under your mattress. I could see the corner of it sticking out sometimes when I cleaned. It was right around the time I found out you had broken up with her. And if I saw it and let my curiosity get the best of me—and I really am sorry about that, son—I’m sure she might have, too. Do you think she would have gone up there to read it?”

“Anything’s possible. Cindy would hardly see a problem with invading my privacy to serve her own needs. She did walk in my room once after I’d been writing, and it was sitting on my nightstand,” I told her. “I quickly hid it, hoping she didn’t notice. I can’t imagine what she would have been capable of after reading how I felt about Becca. She could turn rabid towards her best friends when she perceived a slight. But however it happened, and that really does make a lot of sense now, Becca was innocent in all of this, and Cindy ended up hurting us both.”