Chapter 25
Brielle
Lia had been listening the entire time Brooks and I stood in line waiting for our fries.
“I think you terrified the poor guy!” Lia sounded so empathetic for Brooks that I stared at her. Well, actually, I stared at her ceiling because she’d laid her phone down while she rearranged her bookshelves.
“Whose side are you on?” I whimpered. I bit my fingernail. Brooks was coming over soon to work on our project, but I was still struggling. I had been since my interview with Teen Writers.
“I’m on both of your sides at this point,” Lia stated. I heard a book drop to the floor. “Oh no! I just bent the cover.”
Everything else was unimportant in this moment. I sat up straight on my bed. “Which book?”
“Powerless!”
“By Lauren Roberts? Girl! Get a new copy ordered. You can’t have a bent cover.”
“I know, right?” Lia snatched her phone, and watching the sudden movement made me dizzy.
I could tell she was ordering a new copy while she reverted to our former topic.
“So here’s what you do,” Lia coached. “Just be honest with your dad. I mean, that’s what’s really bothering you.
So tell him what happened. He’s not going to put it out on social media. He’s your dad.”
“But he’ll make me break up with Brooks,” I moaned.
“Will he? I thought he liked Brooks.”
“He does! But he doesn’t like deceit.”
“Well, it’s better if you tell him than your dad finds out somehow, isn’t it? I mean, then you’re caught. Confessing is better for the soul.”
“You sound biblical,” I pouted.
“It is biblical. Confess your sins one to another and—”
“Stooooooop!” I whined. It was one thing to have a stroke of conscience. It was another for Lia to bring God into it. Because then, the answer was obvious.
“You don’t have to talk to your dad tonight,” Lia said.
“Tell him this weekend or something. Work on the project and at least get it started. That way, when you tell your dad, if he wants you to stop dating Brooks—which we know he will—you have the project to argue with. Your dad also doesn’t like you to go back on commitments. ”
“True.” Lia knew my dad well without actually knowing him. “And maybe he’ll understand—”
“No. He won’t understand,” Lia interrupted. “But maybe he’ll let you at least finish the project if Brooks will just read Pride and Prejudice.”
“I think he’s a slow reader,” I replied.
“Then get him an audiobook. Bruh, he has to. If you tell your dad, there’s no way you can do the project about the two of you.”
“I know,” I sighed.
“It’ll be fine.”
“I know it will. I mean, Dad will understand,” I said, not believing a word I said.
“No, I was talking to my bent book cover,” Lia retorted.
“Oh.” I didn’t doubt it. Lia’s books were her babies.
Lia was still on the phone. I don’t think Brooks knew either, because I’d tucked my device on the floor, face down by the bookcase.
We were in the living room with our laptops, sitting on the floor.
Mom had brought us cookies, but then she’d left for a women’s Bible study at church.
Reece was up in his room doing homework. Dad was down the hall in his office.
So really, we were alone—even though we weren’t.
“So the first point of the project that Mrs. Templeton wants us to focus on is the elements of a healthy relationship as demonstrated by our fictional couple, or in our own personal experience.”
“Okay.” Brooks hadn’t even opened his laptop. He leaned against the coffee table, a cookie in hand. “So, personally, I think one element we have that is healthy is good communication—like we can talk baseball and you actually get what I’m talking about.”
I closed my eyes. This was going to be painful. “No, like what makes a relationship healthy,” I tried again.
Brooks blinked. “I just said. Communication.”
“But not about baseball,” I argued.
“Why not?” He frowned. “You have to have things in common to talk about.”
“Yes, but you don’t build a relationship on baseball.”
“What then?”
Really? I stared at him. “How about communication about our feelings for starters?”
Well, it was a good suggestion, I knew, but in the context of our relationship? My cheeks felt hot.
Brooks had stopped chewing and was staring at me. “You want to talk about our feelings for each other?”
“I never said ‘for each other’!” I protested too quickly and was terrified he’d see right through me. Then I’d have to proclaim my undying love, and Lizzie Bennett would be ashamed of me for my weakness.
“Okay, so . . . baseball.” He grinned.
I threw a couch pillow at him.
“Respect. Vulnerability. Humility.” I listed a few.
“Did you get those from that book?”
“Pride and Prejudice?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Hardly,” I laughed. “Humility is the opposite of pride.”
“Then how is it even a romance?”
“Well, Lizzie finds humility and so does Darcy, and then—” I stopped. “Well, the fact is, that any solid relationship takes good character.”
“Got it. And baseball.”
“Knock it off!” I was laughing though, and so was he, and for a minute, we just had—fun. No pressure, just honest-to-goodness fun.
“Trust,” I continued. There we go. I was going to be a mood killer, but Lia would be proud. I was sure she was listening in. This would be a good segue into telling Brooks I needed to tell my dad because trust was important in our home.
“Do you think we have these things?” Brooks stilled.
“Have what things?”
“Between you and me. Trust. Respect. Vulnerability. Communication.”
It took me a moment to realize he was really, truly asking. The guy could go from joking to serious in one second flat. I answered without thinking. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted most people.”
Brooks moved closer. There were a few feet between us, but suddenly, there was something in his eyes.
Lia would say it was “longing”.
“Me too.” His voice lowered. He was being vulnerable. I liked that, but it terrified me. And now wasn’t the time. Not at all.
“Brooks,” I started. “I’m glad you trust me.” Something flickered in his eyes again. Something that made me feel he was still holding something back. But I was okay with that, too. I mean, we weren’t really dating, so he didn’t really have to tell me everything.
Did he?
“When did you start trusting me?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going while trying to remember where I’d wanted it to go.
“I don’t know. Somewhere between day one and—day one.”
Brooks leaned closer now. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lifted to my eyes.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought my ribs were going to break. If Dad walked in right now . . .
Brooks leaned in. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. This was it. My first ever kiss. Here it came—
Brooks pulled back abruptly
“We shouldn’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was doing.” He laughed nervously. “This is fake, but there’s no one here to fool. So forget I did that.”
I tried to hide my disappointment while feeling relieved. “Right. Fake.”
Brooks nodded. “We have the project. We need to start the project. And, we need to keep boundaries.”
“Boundaries. Of course,” I nodded too.
The awkward silence was worse than listening to my dad’s top hits from the 90’s.
Brooks jumped to his feet. “I should go.”
“Okay?” I jumped up with him.
We stared at each other. He bent and grabbed his laptop. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll—see if I can read another chapter about that Darcy guy.”
“Okay,” I breathed. No. I don’t think I was breathing.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to panic. I wanted to grab Brooks and tell him not to leave.
Tell him none of this was fake for me anymore.
Tell him that I—That I what? Loved him? That sounded stupid.
It’s not like we were gonna get married or anything.
But I did. At least, the way a teenage girl could have feelings for a guy. I really, really cared about Brooks.
The door shut, and I realized he’d left while I stood there like an idiot. I touched my lips where his almost were. Then I remembered and dove for my phone.
Flipping it over, Lia’s face filled the screen with awe and wonder. “What. Just. Happened?”
“It’s complicated.” I felt the tears coming on.
“What’s complicated? The project or your feelings?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. I didn’t need to answer. Lia knew everything. So did I. Being honest with Dad would mean being honest with myself, and maybe even with Brooks.
I decided I was probably just going to die. Right there. In my living room. This was worse than anything Lizzie Bennett and Mr. Darcy had ever gone through.
Eat your heart out, Jane Austen.