Chapter 26
After however many miles of walking around Central Park, a can’t-miss, must-stop to a hot dog vendor, countless stores, and at least an hour of standing in Times Square in absolute awe about how small we really are compared to the rest of the world, Daisy and I crashed onto our hotel bed, completely spent.
We haven’t moved much since then. We haven’t said much either, content in our silent companionship, ignoring the fact that we’re practically fused together.
In more than just the physical kind of way, I admit only to myself.
I don’t know if I could tell you a single fact about anything we saw today.
I paid attention to absolutely nothing except the excitement buzzing around Daisy and the way her eyes lit up at the smallest of things, like the pigeon who followed us around for forty-five minutes before flying off with his flock.
Daisy named him Bart. She definitely thought we were taking Bart back to Merrymount.
I don’t know if I would have been able to tell her no, so I’m thankful for ole Bart flying away before she had the chance to ask.
She’s in an element of her own that I don’t think she knew existed until we arrived.
I’m not too shocked. She’s had New York City circled, underlined, and highlighted at the top of every bucket list and plan she’s ever made. Daisy was always meant to end up here, one way or another.
I have mixed feelings on being here to witness it all. The selfless half of me is honored to be here and see this kind of dream come true for Daisy. She deserves every bit of happiness that comes her way. If I had control of things, I’d make it my mission to ensure she never has a bad day again.
But the selfish part of me…I have to wonder if this started the clock. The countdown until Daisy leaves Merrymount—and me—for bigger and better. Just like she always planned.
Because Hunter and Chase are getting older and won’t need her around forever. Because more days spent in that house with her spineless, pathetic parents would kill her.
And I’m too chickenshit to ask her to stay.
Stay and try to make that future she always dreamed of with me. Even if it’s not as far as the wind will take her.
Before I let the most painful thoughts—like watching the back of Daisy’s head as she leaves for good—consume me, I allow myself one pitiful truth to escape me.
“I wanna kiss you, Daisy.” It’s the only thing that feels safe enough to admit.
This isn’t the first time I’ve admitted this to her.
Just like with that grainy picture I stumbled upon a few months ago, I’m thrown back into another memory I’ve suppressed for far too long.
It’s late. Too late, actually. I should have had Daisy home hours ago. But we were having so much fun, and she looks too pretty and content gazing up at the thousands of stars over our heads.
We’ve been parked in this field, laying in the bed of my truck since sunset. Neither of us have moved much since, focusing on constellations and our conversation that feels like it could be never ending. I don’t really ever want it to end.
“God, it’s beautiful,” she sighs.
“Yeah, you are.”
Her face whips to mine, her puffy lips parted. “What did you just say?”
I muster up every bit of courage an eighteen-year-old guy like me can find and clear my throat with my fist at my mouth. “I said you’re beautiful.”
“Oh.” Daisy blinks. She blinks again, and I reach out to gently press her chin up, closing that perfect O-shape her mouth formed.
“Just ‘oh’?”
She shakes her head while scrunching her nose, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I find myself thinking that about a lot of the things Daisy does, the moments she doesn’t let anyone else see, where she’s funny and carefree. For some reason, I get to be the one to witness them.
“I mean, thank you.” She’s blushing hard, and that hint of confusion on her face has me wondering if I haven’t made myself clear with where my head is at.
“Daisy, I—”
“Wait,” she steals my next words, the confession a long time in the making. “Don’t. Don’t say something stupid that’ll mess this all up.”
“What? No, nothing’s gonna get messed up.”
“Yes, it is!” Daisy sits up and scoots over to put unnecessary distance between us. She rests her back against the side of the truck bed. “We say it all of the time, August. You’re August Burton and I’m Daisy Stiles. We don’t need to be anything else.”
“Why?” I ask, desperate for a solid reason, knowing she doesn’t have one.
“Because I selfishly don’t want to lose you. And if we let something silly, like adolescent feelings, get in the way…Well, that’s just a setup for disaster.”
“Oh,” I huff, crossing my arms. “I get it. I’m not good enough.”
We might be working with limited lighting, but I watch her roll her eyes. “Give me a break. You know that’s not what I’m trying to say.”
“Then spell it out for me, Daisy. Because ever since I walked into Merrymount High, I’ve been pulled in your direction, like you’re the center of my fucking gravity or some shit.
And I never say anything, because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
But you think I don’t see the way you look at me out of the corner of your eye when you’re journaling?
You think I don’t hear your heartbeat kick up to probably dangerous beats per minute when we find ourselves teetering on the edge of something more? ”
“I—We—You’re my best friend,” she says, clinging to that half-truth like a lifeline.
“Never said I wasn’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t want more.”
“More how?”
“I want to kiss you, Daze. Let’s start there.” I lean over, and her breath hitches.
My lips are centimeters from hers. I can smell her cherry lip gloss that she’s always losing and I’m always replacing. Before my eyes close, I notice the blues of her eyes get swallowed by her dilating pupils.
“Stop.” Daisy presses a soft hand to my chest, and I pull back immediately. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Never be sorry. Not for that,” I assure her, shaking my head at my stupidity.
I was wrong. This was dumb. I need to accept what I can get with Daisy. I can’t lose her.
Even though it feels like it’s inevitable.
“Can we…” She hesitates, pausing to collect her thoughts. “Can we wait until graduation? We can figure this all out after finals and diplomas.”
“Can I ask why?”
She nods, but doesn’t offer more. I sit and wait, wondering if I crossed a line. She agreed I could ask, she never agreed to answer.
Daisy looks up to the stars again, and I follow her line of sight. I focus on a few of the constellations she’s pointed out to me over the years.
“I’m asking you to trust me.” That’s what Daisy settles on, and I accept it with no further question. I’ll always trust her. I pull her into my side and point up at our favorite constellation, The Twins. The two brightest stars, Castor and Pollux.
Back in the present day of our high-rise hotel room, I wait for Daisy to turn me down. Again. I’m apparently a sucker for punishment.
“You can’t. We have rules,” she mutters.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna break ‘em,” I mumble into the sensitive skin on her neck.
Daisy sighs. “Drop it. Please.”
So I do.
Even though it hurts. Even though the rules don’t mean shit to me.
I think I’m in love with her.
I think I always have been.
“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Daisy coughs while attempting to shove my weight off her.
I try to untangle myself as fast as possible so she can escape. Daisy sprints to the bathroom, and I hear her slam the toilet seat up just in time to listen to her heave what I’m assuming is every bite of food we consumed over the last several hours.
Shit, did we eat something bad? I do a quick self assessment and determine I feel fine. But Daisy…
“I’m okay!” she calls, and it echoes off the porcelain. I make my way to the bathroom with a glass of water in one hand to see her head still hanging low into the bowl, deep breaths making her back rise.
I crouch down to lay my hand on her back and begin rubbing circles, anything to soothe her as Daisy continues to get sick.
“This is disgusting,” she sighs. “Just leave me here to die.”
“Shut up,” I tell her.
“This is not how I wanted to spend tonight.”
“Can’t say this is what I had planned,” I say, thinking about the dinner reservation I should probably cancel. “But it’s okay, we have a nice view and fancy bed to rot in. And when you feel better tomorrow, we can check off a couple of the things on my list.”
Daisy groans. “There’s more? And I’m wasting time puking my brains out? Ugh—” She’s rightfully frustrated, and I feel awful. But it’s out of our control, and I really just need her to feel better. I need Daisy to be okay.
I think I’m learning I don’t deal well with the people I care about being sick, not because I’m a germaphobe or anything, but because it kills me to feel so fucking helpless.
“What can I get you right now?” I ask.
Daisy looks up and takes the water, braving a small sip. “This is fine for now, thank you.”
Her hand slaps over her mouth barely a minute later, and I watch her turn to gag again. “Okay, so water is also not safe right now. I don’t get it…Aren’t you supposed to feel better after you puke?”
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” I assure her. Maybe I’m trying to assure myself too. “Listen to your body.”
“My body apparently wants to expel everything I’ve ever put into it.”
And it does.
After a couple hours of camping out on the bathroom floor, Daisy lets me carry her to the bed.
I line the small hotel trash can with a plastic bag to set beside her.
Only when I feel confident Daisy doesn’t have anything left in her system to actually throw up, I venture out into the harsh cold to find supplies.
I grab Pedialyte in liquid and popsicle form, along with more water and plain crackers for Daisy to hopefully nibble on. I find some Dramamine to take back too. I stop by a pizza shop to grab myself something to eat and hightail it back to our hotel room.
Daisy’s mercifully sleeping when I enter. Her skin is paler than normal and her usually wild curls are weighed down by sweat. Her eyebrows are furrowed like she’s annoyed, even in her slumber. And I wouldn’t blame her if she was. But God, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I put the drinks in the mini fridge to chill and take a couple minutes to scarf down my food before Daisy wakes. When I see her stir, I quickly grab the pizza box with my discarded napkins and toss it outside the room, hoping by doing so any lingering scent doesn’t trigger her to get sick again.
“How’re you feeling?” I check in when Daisy’s eyes finally flutter open.
“Disgusting. Sad. Mad. Bleh,” she lists.
“All warranted given the circumstance,” I say, assessing her for any other ailments.
“I could rally so we could go out?” she offers.
“Not happening, darling.” I press the back of my hand to her forehead. “No fever, but I’m not taking chances. Sorry.”
Any progress Daisy made is erased when she throws herself dramatically back into the pillows. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m—Oh my God, did you have pizza?”
She tosses the sheets and once again sprints to the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” I call, chasing after her. I sink to the floor and gather her hair to hold behind her.
After another hour of hanging out on the bathroom floor, I get Daisy back into bed. We spend the rest of the night making fun of infomercials because neither of us wants to move or look for the remote we lost hours ago.
It’s not what I had planned, and I wish more than anything that Daisy didn’t feel like she does.
But there’s also an indescribable sense of peace settling in this small hotel room, high up in some skyscraper in the loudest city you could imagine.
A peace between two people who never gave themselves time to figure it out, and maybe this is the universe’s way of doing us a favor and giving a little bit of that precious time back.
Or I’m just deliriously in love with Daisy Stiles, and I'm finally allowing myself the right to admit it.