Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Ten Years Ago
The sun beat down on my skin, so warm that I wondered just how safe it was for us to be out here. My skin was sensitive and easily burned, though I was sure part of that was due to how little I went outside.
I grabbed the stolen bottle of whiskey and poured some into my mouth.
I’d never get used to the harshness of it, shocking every taste bud on my tongue.
It burned as it went down my throat, a liquid heat passing through my chest from the inside.
A tickle started in my throat, and no matter how hard I tried to pretend it wasn’t there, I still coughed and sputtered.
Crescent laughed beside me. “Bro, take it easy.”
“Shut up.”
He took the bottle from me, dragging it through the grass beneath us.
We’d found this little field, deciding it was our new hangout spot when we needed alone time.
It was overgrown, but beautiful. Something I’d probably paint if I’d thought to bring my supplies.
Flowers of every kind sprouted around us. Weeds, too.
“Look, daisies.” Crescent nodded to a patch of gorgeous white flowers with yellow centers.
I tilted my head, picking up the whiskey bottle again. The taste was still on my lips when I licked them, and it made me realize I wasn’t quite as drunk as I wanted to be. “They’re pretty.”
He plucked one from the ground, twisting the stem between his pointer finger and thumb. “Remember the daisy game all the girls used to do when we were kids?”
“Daisy game?”
“Yeah, like this.” He pulled one of the petals off, letting it fall to the ground. “He loves me.” Another one. “He loves me not.” He kept going until the final petal tore from the yellow center. “He loves me not.”
“I don’t remember that, no.”
He grabbed another one and held it out to me. “Maybe you can try it with Jude.”
I laughed when he waggled his eyebrows at me, ending the performance with a wink. I took the daisy into my fingers and let the whiskey bottle rest on the grass between us. “This seems stupid.”
Rolling his eyes, Crescent nudged my knee with his. “Just do it, man. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to ask him out instead of making me suffer with all your moping over him.”
Shaking my head, I relented. “He loves me.” The pure white petal was easy to grasp between my fingers, to rip from the sunny yellow center. Too easy, if I were honest. “He loves me not.” The next was even easier, the childhood innocence of the game soft against my fingertips. “He loves me.”
One by one, they all fell down to the grass. As the petals dwindled, my heart started to pick up. Rushes of wind flew through the field, caressing my cheeks and blowing the petals into the air. I stopped for a moment, soaking in the beauty of it.
Pure white mixed with sunny yellow, swirling in the wind against the blue sky. The petals mimicked the clouds as they went by, forming different shapes I tried to imagine, like when I was a child. Hearts and rabbits, penguins and fluffy poodles.
“Earth to Elio.” Crescent’s hand waved in front of my face.
Blinking back to reality, I looked down at the daisy. Only two more petals. “Sorry. He loves me not.” Down, down, it caught on the wind, swirling to the ground. “He loves me.” The final petal. Nothing left to pick from.
Over the years, Crescent and I had had front-row seats to each other growing up.
We’d made fun of each squeak in our voices, and the awkward mustache phases before we learned just how weird we looked.
When he laughed, I could hear the kid in him still.
The rambunctious, squeaky kid I’d made friends with on the playground, with wild, curly hair and a smile to die for.
He laughed, and it reminded me of the best decision I’d ever made. There was no universe without Crescent and me together. “You gonna ask him out, then?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’d be into me like that.”
“Uh, that’s stupid of you to say. Who wouldn’t be? You’re a fucking catch.”
I huffed at that, grabbing the whiskey from him. “Sounds like you’ve had too much of this to think right.”
“I’m serious!” He moved so he was sitting cross-legged, facing me from the side. “You’re artistic and drop-dead fucking handsome.”
It burned going down. The whiskey, and the compliment. But the fuzzy feeling that swirled in my stomach almost made it worth it. I looked at him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”
Crescent glanced down at his lap. His hair fell over his shoulders, curled and bouncing with the wind. I’d always been envious of his hair and how elegant it looked. “No,” he whispered. “That’s not why. I mean it, El.”
I watched as he fell backward, looking straight up at the sky. Instead of letting him stay there alone, I awkwardly scooted over, whiskey in hand, and lay beside him. I didn’t know why he sounded so somber, or what exactly he meant. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know, either.
The sun was harsh as ever. Some clouds crowded over the blue, but none of them dared to cover the yellow rays. It reminded me of the daisies we’d plucked. None of the petals infringed on the yellow center, surrounding it protectively.
“So, when are you gonna get a girlfriend?” It was a stupid question meant to fill silence. Crescent had never given me any reason to think he liked girls—or the opposite. Sometimes, I wondered if he liked anyone.
He chuckled, though it was half-hearted. “Probably never. At least, as long as you’re my best bro.”
The answer weighed heavily between us. I didn’t question it further, and Crescent didn’t explain it. We shared the bottle of whiskey until it was empty, watched the sun move over for the moon, and I watched as daisy petals surrounded us both.
Maybe I would ask Jude out.