Chapter 5 #2
Brooklyn took a sip of his latte and then waved it around in his hand. “You mean charming, funny, and an absolute fucking pleasure to be around?”
Despite the fact that he was clearly joking, he was, to the detriment of my own willpower, exactly those things, but wasn’t sure he actually knew that.
“Joking aside, that’s what it is, then?” I asked. “You were doing OxyContin?”
Brooklyn nodded. “Started with Vicodin. Graduated up to oxy. I did my stint in rehab three months ago, and as of next week I am done with outpatient at Otter House.”
There was a pause, and Brooklyn dropped his gaze into his lap. “If that’s weird for you, or you don’t wanna hang out again, I get it.”
Without thinking, I reached across the table and put my hand on top of his. The way my body reacted to him without warning was infuriating, and my head couldn’t keep denying what my physical being already knew. There was something going on here.
“If I’ve learned anything from what’s going on with my sister, it’s that you never really know what people are going through, and so it’s kind of messed up to judge them for it,” I said.
When he smiled at me, I smiled back. His energy was infectious. When I realized my hand was still on his, I recoiled as if he’d shocked me. He dropped his gaze again, but I was able to catch a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Is she doing okay?” he asked. “Your sister.”
“She is.” I nodded, and I actually believed it when I said it. “And by the way, thanks for telling me the truth.”
“Well, I’ve learned lying doesn’t really get me anywhere, and I learned that the hard way.”
“It seems like you’re getting the hang of it.”
“I’m trying.” He shrugged. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
The softness of his voice took me by surprise. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Nope, any more questions and I’ve gotta start charging you by the hour.”
He smirked and bumped my knee under the table with his, and I let out a giggle. I never giggled. He was back to effortlessly endearing, and it made me feel more at ease than I had with another person in a long time.
“What happened? How did it happen?” I didn’t know how many lines I was crossing with him, but I’d never been so compelled to simply know someone the way I wanted to know him.
“It was pretty straightforward, honestly,” he continued.
“I was a center fielder, and all the hard throwing caused a lot of wear and tear on my elbow. I tore my UCL in the middle of my junior season, and I had to get Tommy John surgery. I got pumped with painkillers because I didn’t wanna be sidelined my whole senior season, so I tried to rush my recovery, and sure, I wasn’t in pain, but it got to a point where I couldn’t function without them, even when I was technically better. That’s really it.”
It didn’t really seem like that was it, but I didn’t press him further. Like with Nikki, I wanted him to come to me on his own terms.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
And that was enough for now.
We took the rest of our coffees to go and wandered up to the beach, watching teenagers on skateboards whiz by a pack of yoga moms pushing around their babies in strollers.
The thick, salty scent of low tide filled my nose, and I could practically taste the fresh air as a forgiving breeze blew through us.
A busy flower shop was situated on the corner across from the beach walkway, and next to it was the art gallery Mom had mentioned a few times.
It wasn’t until then that I realized I’d barely explored my new home, despite living here for a few weeks already.
“Okay, my turn for a question,” he said, gently nudging me in the side.
“What?”
“You can’t just ask me questions like that and then not expect me to ask one back. That’s not how this game works.”
“A game?” I echoed.
“Yes, a game.” He smirked. “What can I say, I’m overly competitive and I like winning.”
“Cute, but I’m no sore loser either.”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me cute today.” He gently nudged me again. “Maybe you’ve got a little crush on me.”
My whole body burned, and I forced myself to chalk it up to the early afternoon heat. “Stop deflecting and ask your question already.”
He looked down at his coffee, but when he looked back up at me, another smirk pulled at his lips. “So, you’ve been given an elephant. You can’t give it away or sell it. What would you do with your elephant?”
I looked at him with wide eyes, until I realized he was being serious. “Okay. Easy. Join the circus.”
My heart lurched as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Clever girl.”
I laughed in response. “Please tell me you did not just quote Jurassic Park.”
“And?” he scoffed. “What if I did? For your information, I quote Jurassic Park all the time.”
“Okay, now I’m judging you a little.”
My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling and laughing so much.
Part of me wished I was having a bad time and could go home with no attachment and no expectations.
Despite his slightly self-deprecating humor, Brooklyn really was charming and funny, and gave me attention I didn’t even realize I wanted. Or needed.
“Fine, then.” He sighed. “What’s your most quoted movie? And don’t say Mean Girls.”
He grinned wickedly, as if he knew he could see right through me.
I groaned. “But what if it actually is Mean Girls?”
“Then humor me and pick a different answer.”
“Fine.” My coffee was mostly empty now, and I rattled what was left of the ice cubes at the bottom of the cup. “Then it’s a tie between Clueless and Star Wars.”
“Ah, yes.” Brooklyn nodded. “Because those two movies are practically interchangeable. I get them mixed up all the time.”
“Well, I like movies.” I shrugged. “A lot of movies, actually.”
“I do too.”
“Yeah?” This time I knew I sounded eager, and I didn’t really care that I did.
Another soft breeze came in, lifting the loose locks of hair around Brooklyn’s temple, and with grace and ease he brushed them out of his face.
Never in my life had I ever used the word cool to describe anyone unless they were actually cold to the touch, but that was all I could think of when I saw Brooklyn. So candidly, unabashedly cool.
“There’s a pretty sweet vintage movie spot around here.” Brooklyn gestured with his coffee. “They’ve got a ton of old DVDs and lots of cool shit.”
I squinted up at him. “To play old DVDs, you need a DVD player.”
“I have an Xbox,” he replied proudly. “Maybe we could rent a few, and watch them. Because it seems like you clearly need an education on quotable movies.”
My heart was running away like it had before. I was a runner, but not a chaser, and I didn’t want to be chasing my heart every time I hung out with him. And like with running, I needed to build my Brooklyn Keller stamina up.
“And I think you severely undervalue the early 2000s rom-com.”
He draped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his head to mine. “So, is that a yes?”
Was it? There was no time for me to work out the pros and cons, not with how close he was and how that alone made my stomach go into a spin cycle.
I’d only ever had one real boyfriend before.
Connor Halsey had sat in front of me in math class sophomore year, and on the first day he asked me for a pencil.
On the fourteenth day, he asked me to go see a movie.
He was nice, and he played trumpet in the marching band.
We’d dated for five months but he never made me feel the way Brooklyn had in only one day of properly hanging out.
This feeling now—whatever it was—was a foreign object in my body, unsure of whether it should defend me or not.
Luckily Brooklyn’s phone rang, providing a welcome distraction from the fact that I could have passed out from human contact. He frowned when he looked at the screen.
“Sorry, I gotta take this.” He cleared his throat before answering. “Hey.”
I tried to occupy myself with my surroundings—the group of teenagers kicking a soccer ball around and sending sand spraying up into the air, the two girls with longboards hoisted above their heads laughing as they made their way down to the water—but when he spoke, he drew my attention to him like a compass to magnetic north.
“I’m literally, like, five minutes away,” he grumbled, keeping his voice low. “Sure, but—”
His scowl deepened as whoever was on the other end clearly didn’t like his response.
“All right, all right.” He groaned. Brooklyn’s face twisted into an odd, almost hurt expression, and I felt a pang in my chest as his eyes darkened.
It was gone as quickly as it had come as he hung up the phone and slid the sunglasses back over his eyes to no doubt hide the storm brewing in them, and I felt him tense up beside me before he spoke.
“I may have neglected to tell my mother I was leaving the house.” He scratched the back of his head as he slowed to a stop. “Since her default assumption is I’m getting myself into trouble, I should probably go home.”
“It’s fine, really,” I assured him. “It’s no big deal.”
“I promise we won’t be long.”
I let out a sharp exhale. “Wait, you want me to come with you?”
“Please.” Brooklyn pouted and pressed his hands together in front of him. So goddamn endearing. “You’re like living, breathing proof that I wasn’t actually doing anything I wasn’t supposed to be doing.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Sure.”
Going back to Brooklyn’s house and meeting other people was not on my agenda, but I spun around to follow him back to his car anyway.
The magnetic north also pulled me in whatever direction he went, and I would willingly go if that meant helping him out.
Those cracks were starting to show, and here I was, pulling out the patches.
“You’re the best,” he said when we were both back in the Wrangler. He reached across the center console and put his hand on mine. “Seriously. I owe you . . . again.”