Chapter 3
Nikki
We did, in fact, need it.
I hadn't stopped to consider how emotionally exhausting this would be on top of being awkward.
Nick began things by talking about how he and Noah met, some of their best memories, saying how much he missed him.
They were nice words from a 'nice guy', but they somehow sounded so hollow.
Brant and Cole gave a tag team sort of tribute, saying that Noah was a 'cool guy'.
Peanut recounted the time they stole his mom's car and how much trouble they got in for it; when he was done, I swear I could see tears in his eyes.
Alice recited a poem that I think she wrote herself, about the fragility of life.
And then I talked. I don't even know what all I said. I sort of blacked out standing there; when I was done, one eggnog wasn't nearly enough.
We've been gathered together for long enough that the candles on the altar are melting down to wax pools that collect in the sconces, and there's a peaceful sort of warmth in the air now.
The tension of friendships that have begun to corrode with time has disappeared, and in its place, we're all friends again, united in our loss.
It sucks that this is what brought us back together, but as my face grows warm and the peace inside of me deepens, I lean back on Nick's knee, grateful for the chance to be reconnected, even if it doesn't last. We used to lie like this in the snow after making snow angels, seeing how long we could stand it.
He'd dare me to take off a glove and I'd dare him to take off his scarf, and both of us would pretend we weren't freezing until we gave in and ran inside the house, where our mothers would scold us as we ran our hands under hot water.
I don't know why we did it, because it didn't help; it actually stung like putting your hands in a beehive.
I miss those days... the innocence and naivety that we'll never get back.
"I'm having sinful thoughts." Alice confesses, her voice sultry with desire before it turns to a giggle.
"Same." Brant chuckles. He doesn't elaborate, and I don't turn to look at him.
"Me, three." Nick rumbles. "But how could I not when I've got her lying so close to my cock?"
The innuendo isn't lost on me. I turn my head to face him, shocked that he'd say something so... blatant. It's not like I'm even lying on his lap; there's several inches of space between my head and that.
I push myself to sitting, to alleviate the awkwardness, but he pushes my head back down, laughing.
"It was a joke, snow angel." Nick shakes his head. "Relax. Don't ruin the moment."
It's warm in here, but I don't know if it's the embarrassment or the eggnog that's got my blood heating and my cheeks flushing.
I turn my eyes to the rafters overhead, big beams arching in a circle to support the convex roof of the church. If I ignore it, I'm sure that they'll move on soon enough. And it's been peaceful up until now, so I don't want to ruin it.
"Did I offend you?" Nick asks, his fingers brushing through my hair, dragging against my scalp and making everything inside of me tense. It's a weird movement— not tender, not exactly harsh. It's more like he's struggling between letting it be platonic or mean something more.
"No." I say quickly, swallowing the lie.
"It's a joke," Brant laughs. "Not a dick. You don't have to take it so hard."
"I have to confess my sins." Alice giggles, pushing to her feet and dragging Peanut along with her. "We'll be back."
"You never say 'I'll be back." Cole shakes his head, earning him an eye-roll from Alice as she tugs Peanut toward the confessionals.
"In a horror movie." I shake my head, grateful for the change in the direction of our conversation. I can't tell if I was imagining the tension, or if all the talk of dicks was just making things awkward to anyone else. "We're not in a horror movie."
"As far as you know." Brant winks, and something about it makes my stomach turn, like it's trying to burrow deeper to get away from him.
Truth be told, life has felt like a horror movie for a while.
Last year, after seeing what I saw, it was like everything changed in an instant.
The world tilted on its axis, and everything has been off since then.
The image that seared into my brain so deeply that it was there every time I closed my eyes has never entirely left me.
Sometimes it feels like that single moment shaped the rest of my life, like no matter what comes after all of this, everything was built on the foundation of that moment.
A loud moan rips through the air before it's quickly cut off, turning into smaller ones.
My cheeks heat with second-hand embarrassment as Alice seems to be enjoying whatever Peanut is doing to her inside the confessional. I press my fingertips to my cheeks to try and ease some of the warmth, doing my best to hold back a nervous laugh.
Alice and Peanut have been together forever, and it's not exactly a secret that they hook up. But sober Alice wouldn't be letting everyone hear exactly how much she is enjoying this. I suspect she'll be embarrassed if she finds out we can hear her so clearly.
You'd think a confessional would be mostly soundproof, due to the private nature of them.
I suppose if she were having a normal conversation, and it weren't so silent that I could hear a pin drop out here, that maybe I wouldn't be able to hear anything from inside.
Most churches have upgraded their confessionals in the last century, but this church is original to the year it was built.
They have made improvements like better insulation and central heat and air, but they take great pride in still using the original pews, confessionals, even the large bronze altar crucifix.
Hooking up in a confessional surely sends some kind of message to Jesus, particularly when it looks like he's watching down on you. But then, I guess so does killing yourself on the altar, too.
"Those sounds are making me hard." Cole snorts, adjusting himself with the heel of his palm.
"How about some Christmas music?" I suggest, sitting up and slipping my phone out of my pocket.
The world tilts ever so slightly, and I can feel the eggnog at the back of my throat as I swallow it back down. I don't care for Christmas music, and it's not like I'm in the spirit, but it's the perfect excuse to diffuse the moment and possibly cover Alice’s sounds of pleasure.
I blink against the wavering text on my phone, surprised that my tolerance has gone to shit. Three glasses of eggnog, and I didn't even feel buzzed, but all of a sudden, it's hitting me.
I type in Christmas and tap the first playlist, raising my volume and letting the first chords of Silent Night fill the air.
"Oh, fuck no," Brant laughs, snatching my phone out of my hand before I can even react. "I'm not listening to this. If you want Christmas music, I'll allow it, but I'm not listening to this slow shit."
I choose not to say anything about him 'allowing' me to do anything, but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, and my jaw clenches as he scrolls through my phone, looking for a better alternative.
"There isn't a single Christmas song that I do like." Nick says.
"You'll like this one." Brant promises, grinning as the sound of screaming fills the air, making the blood in my veins turn to ice. It takes a moment to realize the scream is supposed to be the music.
"Fuck off with that screaming shit." Cole groans, shoving him in the shoulder.
But Brant doesn't fuck off. He leaves it to play, and I don't hear a single chord of anything that sounds remotely festive.
When, at last, the song ends, he looks at us, grinning proudly.
"What the fuck was that?" Nick laughs, and the sound is so opposite the screaming that just assaulted our ears for the last two minutes that I can't help joining in, too.
"That was art." Brant argues, clearly offended that we don't agree with his musical taste.
"That wasn't art." I argue. "That was the death of art. Anyone can scream into a microphone."
"So uncultured." Brant shakes his head, his nose crinkled in disgust and disappointment, neither of which I am offended by.
"Sorry to interrupt the argument." Peanut says, drawing our attention to where he stands in the center aisle between the pews. I tilt my head to look for Alice and find her on her hands and knees near the confessional, retching. "I'm gonna get her home and hydrated. Too much eggnog, I guess."
"Is she okay?" I ask, moving to stand. But it's a big task, and my limbs feel weird, uncooperative. Nick grabs my arm, steadying me as he pulls me back against him.
"Yeah. She was great, and then all of a sudden it just... hit her." Peanut shakes his head, letting his bottom lip sip through his teeth. "Are you okay?"
I nod my head, because I haven't been able to answer that question for the last year. I'm actually pretty sure I'll never be okay again.
"We're good." Nick answers for me, his hand patting my knee. "Just going to hang out for a bit before we call it a night. It's been so long since we saw each other, and we won't get another chance for a while."
The truth of his words makes me sad. I wouldn't call this the best night of my life, but it has been nice to reconnect with our old friends.
In listening to them talk, I feel like I've gotten closer to Noah than I've been since he died.
Being here, in the place he left us, hurts.
But it's a pain that somehow feels good, too.
"You sure, Nikki? I could drop you off on the way..."
"Get Alice home." I shake my head. "I'll be fine."
"Okay," Peanut nods. "Text her when you get home tonight. The roads are bad and if she wakes up to no text from you, she'll panic."
"Will do." I nod.
"You got her, right?" Peanut's question is for Nick, who nods.
"Of course. They don't call me Saint Nick for nothing."
Peanut shakes his head, laughing at the nickname the old ladies in the church gave Nick when he was young enough that he still tried to be the perfect child.
Eventually, when we began to see through all the bullshit, he started to rebel, but Saint Nick stuck even as he grew into a rebellious teen.
"Alice?" I call. "I love you!"
I used to tell my friends I loved them all the time; the distance between us became too great and I wasn't sure I was even still capable of love.
In this moment, though, I know I am. It's true that I love her like a sister, like family, even if we've drifted apart against the changing landscape of adulthood and relationships and death.
"I luh you—" She slurs before the words are swallowed in a swell of vomit.
Peanut runs to her side, pulling her hair back into his fist and rubbing her back as she lets it out.
I wonder idly how we're going to clean that up so no one knows we were here. Strictly speaking, since the church is property of the town, we aren't supposed to be here during non-business hours. Noah warned me about as much when he invited me, telling me it may land me on the naughty list.
"What a lightweight." Cole chuckles, tipping his beer against the smirk on his mouth as he takes a sip.
Once Alice's vomiting subsides enough, Peanut scoops her into his arms in a bridal carry, draping her coat over her, and heads out.
I can't help wondering if I'll ever find a love like that again. What if all we get is one shot, one person to feel real, genuine love for, and I lost mine already? Will I have to live the rest of my life alone?
"What's with the tears, snow angel?" Nick asks, his thumb swiping away a tear I hadn't even realized I cried.
I blink, suddenly realizing how close he is, how his lips are pulled down in a show of concern.
There's no way I could speak past the lump in my throat, so I swallow it instead, mustering the faintest smile. "Just tired."
"You want me to take you home already?"
I don't miss the reluctance in his voice, the same reluctance I feel to let this moment end.
Years of friendship, bent and broken and nearly shattered and now being slowly rebuilt.
I don't want to lose the moment, the human connection, the friend that I lost years ago that I've seen in small glimpses tonight.
Getting back something that I lost feels so good.
"Soon."