Chapter 16
Sixteen
A persistent buzzing woke me from the deepest sleep I’d had in a long time.
A warm breeze washed over me as my eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light.
I glanced over at the other side of my room to see that my window had been left open all night, bringing blinding morning sunlight and salty air pouring into the room.
The buzzing continued, but I ignored it.
The boy lying next to me kept me preoccupied.
His chest slowly rose and fell with each gentle breath he took.
Even though I was still in a haze, I felt a sense of peace watching him sleep.
His mouth hung open slightly but his breath was calm and steady.
My stomach clenched as the events of last night rushed back to me in a fury.
I still tasted vanilla on my lips. Vanilla and him.
I fumbled around the sheets to find the source of the buzzing, which I realized was Brooklyn’s phone, not mine. When I went to silence it, a text message from a random number popped up on the screen.
Unknown: still owe me for those two shirts. elliot is on my ass man
“What time is it?” Brooklyn mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.
I dropped his phone onto the mattress and shifted myself underneath the covers.
It felt weird going through someone else’s phone, and even though it was an accident, a knot in my stomach told me I should not have seen that message. I feigned a yawn.
“It’s early,” I mumbled. “Your phone has been going off.”
“Oh.” Brooklyn furrowed his brows, suddenly very awake as he patted around the sheets for the device. I watched his fingers dart across the screen, and his wide, hazy eyes following along as he typed a response.
He rolled over to face me and reached out to gently run his fingers down my cheek. “I have to get going, okay?” His voice was so soft it rolled over me like a gentle breeze, barely registering until he shimmied out of bed and began collecting his clothes from last night.
“Everything all right?” I asked as I sat up. Brooklyn looked over at me and gave me a tired smile.
“Everything’s fine,” he said as he slipped his shirt on. “I’d rather not start shit with my mom this early. I didn’t exactly tell her I was spending the night.”
“Right, well, I guess we didn’t really plan that, did we? I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”
Brooklyn’s tired smile grew into that charming, boyish grin that he knew I adored. He leaned over and gently placed a kiss on my forehead.
“Last night was worth all the trouble in the world. I’ll call you later.”
I squeezed his hand as he stepped away, and part of me thought that might have been enough to get him to stay, but he didn’t.
There wasn’t really a point in trying to go back to sleep, but I lay in bed, replaying last night over and over again in my head as a familiar warmth rolled through me.
For a fleeting moment I wondered if it was real, but then I inhaled, and my pillow still smelled like him, all fresh and clean and very real.
Of course, as reality began to really set in, so did the bad thoughts buzzing around my head like pesky little gnats, reminding me I was still in an emotional standoff with my sister. Normally I was above saying I told you so, but she’d crossed a line last night that I couldn’t ignore.
I figured now was as good a time as ever to go for a run and enjoy the early morning before it got bogged down by the late June heat.
When I got dressed and made it downstairs, I nearly tripped over my feet seeing Mom standing at the kitchen island, still in her pink-striped PJs and making a cup of coffee.
“Oh shit,” I hissed to myself, but it was loud enough for her to hear and lift her gaze to me. I really should have just stayed in bed.
“Good morning,” she greeted me, lifting her coffee cup up to her mouth to take a sip.
“Morning,” I replied, putting a hand to the stair banister so I could stretch my calves. Maybe if I kept it casual, so would she.
“Saw Brooklyn leaving.”
Now why on earth would I have thought she’d say anything else? Bad judgment on my part. I winced, shaking my head to avoid direct eye contact with her.
“We fell asleep.” I shrugged. “It was an accident.”
“Did you two rehearse that? Because he said the same thing.” She smirked behind her coffee mug. “The last time I saw a guy do a walk of shame was when I was in college.”
I groaned. “I am going for a run and pretending this conversation did not happen.”
While that was a great idea in theory, I could only avoid the inevitable for so long.
The inevitable being my sister, who was awake by the time I got back, drinking what was left of the coffee Mom had made earlier.
The two of them had been sitting at the kitchen island, and as soon as Nikki clocked me, she scraped the stool back with a screech against the kitchen floor, scowling at me as she walked past and back upstairs to her room.
“What was that about?” Mom asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, making a beeline for the empty coffeepot. I stared into it, as if in the swirl of leftover grinds was some kind of spiritual response, like tarot cards or tea leaves. I didn’t even believe in that stuff, but maybe I should. “She’s being moody.”
I couldn’t loop Mom in without exposing all of Brooklyn’s lore, but I was beginning to tremble with how much I’d been keeping in, so I tiptoed around it the best I could.
I spun around to face her and leaned back against the counter. “Look, Brooklyn has a history. Who doesn’t? But right now, Nikki isn’t being very understanding of that. That’s all. It’ll blow over.”
Mom nodded as she continued to sip her coffee. “I’m sure it will, because you’re a fixer, not a fighter.”
“Who said we’re fighting?” I set the empty coffeepot down on the counter a little too aggressively.
“That poor coffeepot,” she replied. “Look, Nat, just be careful about how much energy you put into fixing other people.”
“I’m not—” I groaned and pulled at the sleeves of my running jacket. “Who are we even talking about here?”
“I’m only giving you a general word of caution. I’ve been in your shoes. You can put an exorbitant amount of effort into fixing someone who maybe doesn’t want it or isn’t ready for it, and you end up just damaging yourself in the process.”
“I’m okay,” I reassured her. “I’m being supportive. Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s not,” she replied. “I’m sure your sister could use some support too.”
“I’m always supportive of her.” I heard the patience thinning in my voice. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with some of the things she said.”
“I understand, and I don’t need to tell you she feels the same way.” Mom got up from the stool and began fixing the coffee maker for another round. “And that’s more important than whatever you two disagreed about.”
“Sometimes I hate being the bigger person,” I grumbled.
“You hate fighting more.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I waved her off. “Guess I should go shower and try to no longer be in disagreement.”
“Sounds good.” She nodded. “Because your hair smells like low tide.”
“Thanks.” I chuckled.
When I made it upstairs, Nikki’s bedroom door was cracked open slightly, and rays of light from the suncatcher in her window cut across the hallway floor. I knocked on the door softly, but when she didn’t answer, I nudged it open farther to see her in her bed with her headphones on.
“Can we talk?” I asked her, motioning for her to take her headphones off. After a few moments of glowering and being stubborn, she realized I wasn’t going to leave, so she pulled them down.
“What?”
“I don’t like fighting.” I surrendered with a sigh, leaning against the door frame of her room. “As I have so astutely been made aware by our mother.”
Nikki groaned as she sat up. “Me either.”
I walked over to the fuzzy pink beanbag chair in the corner of her room under the window and dropped into it. “I’m trying to understand what even happened. I thought you liked Brooklyn, but last night felt like emotional whiplash.”
“I do, I do.” Nikki pulled at the distressed sleeves of her butter-yellow crewneck. “I got a bad gut feeling, and I’m sorry if it came across as mean, I guess. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“I understand.” I sighed, wishing it all made less sense. Maybe that would make it all sting less. “And while I appreciate it, I promise things are fine.”
“How can you promise that?”
I groaned and threw my head back. “Because I am an all-seeing oracle.”
Nikki got up from her bed and threw herself on top of me, smothering me in forgiveness and the scent of her orange blossom perfume. When I hugged her, there were fewer harsh edges to her, and it didn’t feel like she’d crack in my arms if I squeezed too tightly.
People were capable of fixing themselves, and I needed to remind myself of that more often.
“Now tell me everything about last night. I want dirty details.”
“There are no details.”
“That is such a lie.” Nikki groaned, rolling off me and slinking to the floor. She sat up and leaned back against the chair. “You weren’t drunk, so I know you remember what happened.”
“It’s not that I don’t remember,” I said. “Honestly, I’m still trying to process that it even happened. It’s not exactly like we’d planned it or anything.”
“That means that it either was limp fucking noodles or it was totally earth-shattering.”
“It wasn’t limp noodles,” I muttered. “It didn’t feel real. Like I was watching myself from a distance.”
“Nat, it’s only sex.” Nikki rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you had an out-of-body experience.”
But that was exactly what it was. Not the sweaty, scratching, moaning, dizzying, gut-unraveling part. It was after. It was the way he’d held me, almost like he could shield me from acid rain and falling stars.
My long silence prompted a snicker from Nikki.
“Oh my god, except you totally did.” She batted her eyelashes and put her hand to her chest. “That’s love.”
I scoffed. “Now who’s the dramatic one?”