Misunderstood (A Neighbor from Hell YA #1) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,93
moved to go see if she was okay when he spotted Chloe standing on the other side of the trees. She started to head to the party only to stop, shake her head, and turn around only to reluctantly stop when he called her name.
“Where are you going? The party’s this way,” Cole said, catching up with her.
“I was just coming to tell you that I can’t make it, but I wanted to give you your present,” Chloe said, shifting nervously as she held out a small box wrapped in green wrapping paper with a silver bow perfectly centered in the middle.
“What is it?” he asked, moving to open it only to have her stop him by laying her hand over his.
“You don’t have to open it now. It’s not really anything special. I just wanted to get you something for your birthday,” Chloe said, shrugging it off.
“Thank you,” Cole said only to frown when he said, “Are you sure you can’t come over?”
“I’m sorry. I have something planned with my family and this is the only day that Uncle Nick could get off so…” she said, letting her words trail off with a helpless shrug.
“I understand,” Cole said, biting back a sigh, surprised at how disappointed he was that she couldn’t make it.
Over the past month, they’d become good friends. He’d stopped stalking her and started spending time with her. Every day they walked to school together, sat together in class, they ate lunch together, walked home together and most days, they did their homework together. Most nights he snuck over to her house to binge-watch TV with her and let her sister torment him just so he could see her smile and…
He liked her, he realized.
“Happy birthday, Cole,” Chloe said, giving him a warm smile before she turned around and left.
Deciding that he’d save her a slice of cake and bring it over later, Cole headed back to the party. He went to put her gift on the table with the others, but curiosity had him turning it over in his hands as he glanced back at her house. With a sigh, he walked over to the chairs lining the patio and dropped down on one.
With a last look toward Chloe’s house, he tore the wrapping paper off and opened the thin white box only to frown when he pulled back the green tissue paper layered over what appeared to be a very old book. The leather was aged and worn, he noted as he carefully opened the cover only to feel the air in his lungs leave him in a rush when he saw the words Emily Bradford written with Manchester, England 1850 written beneath it.
This was his great-grandmother’s journal, Cole realized as he closed the book so he could run his fingertips reverently down the soft cover. He glanced over at her house as he carefully placed the cover back on the box and quickly made his way next door, deciding that this couldn’t wait. He made his way up the porch, raised his hand to knock and–
“How come we’re not doing anything for your birthday?” he heard Katie ask, drawing his attention to the open window next to him.
“We are doing something for my birthday,” Chloe said as Cole found himself moving closer to the window.
“We’re sitting on the couch watching Harry Potter again. How come we’re not having a party?” Katie asked as Cole stood there, watching them through a break between the white curtains.
“Because I don’t need a party,” Chloe said as she gestured to the television as Cole bit back a curse. It was her birthday, too. “This is the perfect way to spend my birthday.”
“What about a cake?” Katie asked, making Cole frown.
“I don’t need a cake,” Chloe assured her.
There was a slight pause and then, “I think Uncle Nick forgot, again.”
“He didn’t forget. He’s very busy,” Chloe assured her little sister.
“What do you think Mom would have done for your birthday if she was alive?” Katie asked, sounding sad.
“Well,” Chloe said, reaching over to pull her little sister on her lap so that she could wrap her arms around her, “first thing she would have done was go overboard making sure that everything was pink from the frosting on the cake to the streamers lining the walls. She would have invited everyone that she’d ever met, cooked enough food to feed an army, and made sure that the party lasted until midnight, which I would have absolutely hated.”