Lighting a Match in the Rain

Chapter Sixteen

Years ago, I noticed that if I looked really carefully into someone's eyes the first five seconds they started a new conversation, then I could read the truth of their feelings about whatever they were talking about. It was easy after I got in the habit of checking everyone's eyes as soon as they walked up to me. And that's exactly what I did the moment Sebastian intercepted me in the halls as I tried making my way to our Wednesday council meeting. Hope was shining freely in his gaze, strongly for those first few seconds before it flickered away.

His blonde hair wasn't gelled as usual today and it laid messily in a straight, combed back mop on his oval head. His blue eyes were complimented by his sky-blue polo and his sneakers matched the color of his jeans. Smiling, he lifted the gallon baggy in his hand that had about a dozen cookies inside it. "Hey," he greeted me. "I've been looking for you all day."

I didn't know what else to do, so I just stopped where I was, facing him, doing my best to not accidentally send a glare in his direction. "Oh?" I prompted, trying to be civil. We hadn't spoken in weeks; not since that night at the party that led me to get chewed out by Kinsley about it.

"I brought these," he said, holding out the cookies, letting me get a closer look at them. "They're--,"

"Oatmeal raisin," I said at the same time he did.

His chest rose and fell as his eyes got a little brighter. "My mom's special recipe. The best in the world."

"My favorite," I said as he said, "Your favorite."

I fought to keep a straight face as my cheeks started heating up.

He remembered.

My mind flashed back to the early days in our relationship when his mom would make homemade oatmeal raisin cookies for me. At the time, it was the highlight of my week and I would look forward to every Friday when I knew I'd go to his house. Although my dad was a great baker, for some reason he couldn't nail the recipe quite like she did at the time. Since then, he's made better of course, better than even this recipe in front of me.

A sunken feeling formed in my chest. "Um, thank you, but..."

"My mom made them just for you," Sebastian explained before I could give him any other words.

"Why?" I wasn't trying to come across as rude, but I was in shock. I hadn't even spoken to his mother since before we even broke up. Coming into a conversation with a "Hey, your son treats me like crap" was never a decision I ever made.

His linebacker shoulders shrugged, slight worry showing off in his uneasy smile. "I mentioned to her that we caught up at the party a few weeks ago...and she said she missed you and wanted me to give you these."

"Oh." My gaze fell down to the award-winning cookies in his hand, which he was still holding out to me, and I finally reached out and took them from him. "Well, um, thanks, but I've gotta get to council," I told him, wanting to walk away as soon as possible.

"Right," he gathered.

Without a goodbye, I turned and quickly started walking back down the hall.

"Friends?" he called after me. I stopped in my tracks, the option of "keep walking" exiting my mind.

Friends? Could I be friends with the man who hurt me? The man who made me cry daily for months at a time? The man who grabbed me so hard he left bruises on my wrist? The man who threw a lamp at me when he got angry that I disagreed with him?

I swallowed, looking down at the cookies. So they were nothing but a peace offering? "I don't think that's a good idea, Sebastian." Never, would I get sucked into his lies again.