Read an Excerpt
Cabel's Library Letter
March 24, 2006, 2:28 p.m. (parallel to pages 204-05 in Fade, after Durbin's party and the breakup)
Dear nobody,
I can't even concentrate these days.
There's an old fireplace here in the front corner of the school library, but there's never any fire in it. Probably against code now or whatever. In front of it is a big grate, but there are still some ashes deep inside from a million years ago after this part of the school was built. I sit by it now, stare into it anyway, wishing for it. Wishing for something to warm me up inside.
It's so cold here in this corner.
I can't see her from here, and it bothers me more than I feel like admitting. But I made the stupid move over here from my regular library table, and I really can't go back now. It would be admitting defeat, and I'm not ready for that. Not ready to cave. Plus, I can't. I just . . . See, I figured out I'm just not wired for love. It's too hard. Too hard when they go away, or fuck with me. Or disappear. I'm done with that. I'm better off this way. It'll get easier eventually. Like it was before.
And shit, anyhow. Can't a guy take a nap without worrying? Without having somebody watching everything, getting too close? I don't do close. Not anymore. Tried that once and it messed up everything.
But what if she falls again? What if somebody sees her like that? What if she . . . I just force myself not to stand up, not to go, not to walk by to make sure. This sucks, it really does. Because I can't sit here, nervous for her anymore. It's wrecking me.
It's true. I did what I had to. The best thing for me is to just keep doing what I'm doing. Stay away from her. Don't let her catch my eye again . . . no way. Because damn, that's brutal. I can't stand looking into her eyes anymore. I just need to look down, get past this. Slog through it. Graduate and get the hell out of Fieldridge. Away.
Find something else to fix me. Or just go numb.
Before I choke. And my gut turns to ash, like that stupid cold fireplace.