“Paige?” Drew’s gentle voice awoke me. It was almost as sweet as my pathetic daydreams, except I wasn’t near so comfortable as I always imagined, and I could tell immediately that my face was wet. I rubbed my arm across my face, erasing the evidence. Thank goodness all my make-up was already gone.
I stared at Drew for a moment, but said nothing. What could I say? There wasn’t anything to say. I’d told him everything. Cynthia was alive, but dying. And now we were rushing off to see her, like I always knew he would. And I was just standing on the side-lines. A casuality that no one really cared about. Because this wasn’t about me. This was never about me.
I’d learned that lesson long ago.
Despite my earlier criticism of Lost, there was one line I liked.
Sawyer, despite his annoyingly constant stubbliness, says, “See, kids are like dogs, you knock them around enough they’ll think they did something to deserve it.”
I knew how true that was. And no matter what I tell myself, it always comes back to haunt me.