Chapter 5
W hile Peace reads, I stare at her. The Christmas lights from the tree twinkle on her skin and golden hair like celebratory confetti. Since I met her, I certainly feel like I’ve been gifted something worth celebrating. As if sensing my fixation, she stops reading and glances at me. “You okay?” She blushes.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I act casual, but I don’t feel casual. Not about her. She’s unexpected and unforgettable, nothing at all like the girls I’ve met before. “Do you think your parents are asleep now?”
“Probably.” She glances away. “It’s been a while since I came downstairs.”
“Peace.” I like saying her name. It’s pretty and peaceful like how she makes me feel. Gently grasping her chin, I turn her head so she’s facing me. I like looking at her and touching her. Love it, in fact. Her skin is incredibly soft and when her attention is focused on me, I feel steady and strong like there’s nothing I can’t do.
“I would have come down earlier.” I give her truth for truth. I bullshit with everyone else, but I want everything to be real between us. “But I didn’t want to run into my dad. My old man is…” I trail off. I decide I don’t want to talk or even think about him when I’m with Peace.
“He’s really hard on you.” She takes my hand.
“Yeah.” I nod tightly.
“I upset mine all the time.” She squeezes my fingers. “He doesn’t like that I read. That I’m shy. I embarrass him.” Hurt darkens her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I know what that’s like.” Man, do I ever. She’s an outsider in her own family because of her differences, just like me. “My dad doesn’t even like me.”
“Well, he should.” Her eyes glisten brighter, and I know that additional brightness is for me. “There’s a lot about you to like.”
“We’re two misfits who fit when we’re together,” I decide.
“Yeah.” She smiles. And for a moment, it seems like a soft breeze sweeps away the weight of my father’s displeasure. “What happens in your book next?” I touch my knee to hers.
“Want me to read some more?” she asks, blinking at me through the thick fringe of her burnt gold lashes.
“Yeah, that would be nice.” I could listen to her voice for hours.
“Okay.” She scoots closer, her fragrance washing over me. She’s roses and warmth with a dash of sweetness. It’s an irresistible combination like she is.
As she begins to read again, I throw my arm around her shoulders. The story catches my attention. The bond between the kids is the type of connection I’ve always longed for. I feel that kind of bond forming between Peace and me. It’s new and fragile. But nothing in my life except music has ever felt this right.
Peace pauses in her reading and glances at me.
“Why’d you stop?” I ask.
“Just need a little break. My throat’s dry.” She passes me the book, and I practically jump back. She loves books, but to me, the words on the pages have fangs like a snake. “You can read the next chapter if you want.”
“No fucking way.” I shove the book back at her.
“No problem.” Her shoulders inch up toward her ears.
“Sorry I snapped at you.” I gut it out, sharing the ugly truth. I want her to like me just the way I am. “I have dyslexia.” I hold my breath, watching for her reaction.
“Oh.” She takes my hand, reaching for me rather than recoiling. “I bet that makes school a nightmare for you.”
“I hate school,” I confide some more.
“I do too a lot of the time,” she admits and threads our fingers together. Emotion swells inside me. She’s doing the opposite of rejecting me. “You should listen to audiobooks. If you like this story and want to finish it, I mean.”
“I like the story.” My eyes burn as I look at her. Holding nothing back now, I whisper my deepest, strongest thought out loud, “I like you.”
“I like you too.” Her cheeks burn pink. “A lot.”
“Will you stay up longer?” I ask. “Read some more?” I’m not that into this part of the story. I just don’t want her to leave.
“Sure.” She rests her head on my shoulder and resumes reading. I throw my arm around her shoulders again, but I hold her tighter. Now that I have her, I don’t want to ever let her go.