Free Losing Hope by Colleen Hoover

just kept walking, but I know if I did, I’d regret not confronting her.
    “This might sound lame,” I warn, looking back at her, “but you look really familiar. Do you mind if I ask what your name is?”
    She releases a breath and rolls her eyes, then reaches behind her to grab the doorknob of her car. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” she says. She turns and opens the door, then quickly climbs into the car. She starts to pull the door shut, but I catch it with my hand.
    I can’t let her leave until I’m positive she’s not Hope. I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life and I’m not about to let thirteen years of guilt and obsessing and analyzing her disappearance go to waste just because I’m afraid I might piss her off.
    “Your name. That’s all I want.”
    She stares at my hand holding open her door. “Do you mind?” she says through clenched teeth. Her eyes fall to the tattoo on my arm and my adrenaline kicks up a notch when she reads it, hoping it’ll spark some recognition on her part. If she can’t remember my face, I’m almost positive she’ll remember the nickname I gave her and Les.
    Not even the slightest jar of emotion flashes in her eyes.
    She attempts to pull the door shut again but I refuse to release it until I get what I need from her.
    “Your name. Please .”
    When I say please this time, her expression eases slightly and she looks back up at me. It isn’t until she looks at me this way, without all the anger, that I realize why I’m so flustered. It’s because I care more for this girl than any other girl in the world who isn’t Les. I loved Hope like a sister when we were kids and seeing her again has brought back all those same feelings. It’s causing my hands to shake and my heart to pound and my chest to ache because all I want to do is wrap my arms around her and hold her and thank God we finally found each other.
    But all those feelings come to a screeching halt when the wrong answer comes out of her mouth. “Sky,” she says quietly.
    “Sky,” I say aloud, trying to make sense of it. Because she’s not Sky. She’s Hope. She can’t not be my Hope.
    Sky.
    Sky, Sky, Sky.
    She’s not saying she’s Hope, but the name Sky is still eerily familiar. What’s so significant about that name?
    Then it hits me.
    Sky.
    This is the girl Grayson was referring to Saturday night.
    “Are you sure?” I ask her, hoping for a miracle that she’s as dense as Shayna and just gave me the wrong name. If she really isn’t Hope, then I completely understand her reaction to my seemingly erratic behavior.
    She sighs and pulls her ID from her back pocket. “Pretty sure I know my own name,” she says, flashing her driver’s license in front of me.
    I take it from her.
    Linden Sky Davis.
    A wave of disappointment crashes around me, swallowing me up. Drowning me. I feel like I’m losing her all over again.
    “Sorry,” I say, backing away from her car. “My mistake.”
    She watches me as I back up even farther so she can shut her door. In a way, she looks disappointed. I don’t even want to think about what kind of expression she’s seeing on my face right now. I’m sure it’s a mixture of anger, disappointment, embarrassment . . . but most of all, fear . I watch as she drives away and I feel like I just let Hope go all over again.
    I know she’s not Hope. She proved she wasn’t Hope.
    So why is my gut instinct telling me to stop her?
    “Shit,” I groan, threading my hand through my hair. I’m seriously messed up. I can’t get over Hope. I can’t get over Les. It’s getting so bad it’s to the point that I’m chasing random girls down in the damn grocery store parking lot?
    I turn away and slam my fist down on the hood of the car next to me, pissed at myself for thinking I finally had it all together. I don’t have it together. Not in the least.
    • • •
    I’m not even completely out of my car before I have Facebook pulled up on my phone. I enter Sky’s name