32. Cecelia
THIRTY-TWO
CECELIA
I last exactly one night at the house I share with my cousins before I give up and go to stay at my parents’. There are just too many reminders of Solomon all over our house. Is it childish to go to my mom and dad’s and sleep in my old bed? Maybe, but I don’t give a shit.
I play hooky from my classes and the soccer team. It’s easy enough to get out of training. I just tell Coach Carla I want to start rehab for my knee in the pool at my parents’ house. It’s a bullshit excuse—I haven’t gotten off the couch in hours.
My mom has been her usual amazing self. She stocked the fridge with all my favorite, non-meal plan foods and stood firm against any of my aunts or older female cousins who wanted to come over to help me wallow in my heartbreak—a time honored tradition of Ransome women that I am in no way interested in participating in.
My dad, as it turns out, has absolutely no idea how to handle me when I’m an emotional wreck.
I can’t really blame him. I wasn’t lying to Solomon when I told him I never cried.
I get upset, sure, but for me that usually results in temper rather than weepiness.
So my dad knows how to handle me when I’m planning to go out and kick some ass or how to calm me down when I want to break things, but crying? The poor man is terrified.
He keeps bringing me food even when I don’t ask for it and he’s sent me about a hundred silly memes since I got here.
It’s kind of cute, honestly. It’s also really a lot, and I’m sick of his hovering within an hour.
So it’s a relief when Mom convinces him to go to the store to buy more snacks, even though we most definitely don’t need anything else unhealthy in this house.
It’s less of a relief when, a few minutes after he leaves, I hear the front door open and voices heading down the hallway. I look at Mom, eyebrows raised, and she just shrugs. “They’re worried.”
I’m expecting it to be my aunts and girl cousins but it only takes a moment to realize those are male voices. And then my two older brothers are standing in the entry to the den, their tall, broad frames filling the doorway.
I groan. “Does everyone know?”
“Oh, Ceece,” Wyatt says. “The group chat is on fire.”
“Great,” I grumble, tugging on a thread in the fleece blanket that Dad had tucked around me before he left.
“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Mom says, squeezing my shoulder then standing to kiss the boys on the cheek before she leaves the room.
Will plops down on the couch in her place. “Kinda expected you to be holed up with the Littles today.”
I shrug, not looking at him because I’m sure I’m going to cry. “Everyone has class.” I don’t tell him that I didn’t want to be at the house alone.
“Hey.” Wyatt comes over and sits on my other side, nudging my shoulder when I don’t look up. “It’s okay to be sad, Ceece. You don’t always have to pretend to be so tough, you know?”
My temper spikes. “I don’t pretend to be tough. My nature is to be tough, and I like that about myself. I like to be strong and feel like I’m in control of my own life.”
Wyatt studies me for a moment. “Okay. Pretend was the wrong word.” He takes my hand. “But it was pretty obvious you were forcing yourself not to appear upset when you got hurt last week. I’m just saying you don’t need to do that with us.”
I wish he hadn’t mentioned that. Now all I’m thinking about is the way it felt to see Solomon in the doorway to the treatment room, his intense gaze locked on mine, looking like he was going to stand between me and the world and fix everything.
The way I had finally felt safe when he wrapped me in his arms.
“Oh, God, is she crying?” another voice says, and my head jerks up to see Silas peering out at me from Wyatt’s phone.
“We’re FaceTiming this?” I yelp.
Silas smirks from the screen. “You think I was going to let the two of them play big brother and not participate?” Then his face softens. “How you doing, Ceece?”
A sob rises up in my throat and I wipe desperately at my eyes. “You know, there’s a reason I never gave any guy more than a couple nights’ worth of my time. This sucks.”
Will chuckles sadly. “First heartbreak is the worst,” he agrees. “You want to tell us what happened?”
I don’t know how much to tell them. The last thing I want to do is disrespect Sol’s privacy.
“His dad is an asshole. They had some kind of argument yesterday and Solomon just…he shut down on me.” I shake my head.
“No, he didn’t just shut down. I could deal with that.
” I think about the night in the hotel and my chest hurts so bad it’s hard to breathe.
“He broke up with me. Told me we were a mistake and he didn’t want me around when he felt bad. ”
“Want me to kick his ass?” Will asks, completely serious.
I laugh through my tears. “No, you idiot. If anyone is going to kick his ass, it will be me.”
“God knows that’s true,” Wyatt says, tugging on the end of my braid.
Then I’m crying again, even harder. “But I don’t want to kick his ass! I know he only said those things because he was sad. And I hate that he’s sad. I hate it so much!”
“Oh, man,” Silas says, sounding pained, while Wyatt and Will both put their arms around me.
“And I hate crying,” I continue, sobbing. “I hate feeling like this. It’s the worst.”
“It is,” Will agrees, reaching for a tissue to hand me.
It helps, a little, having the three of them here with me, even though I’m crying like a baby and will probably be embarrassed later.
It makes me wonder if maybe I should have been more open to this kind of thing earlier—not the unending, snot-nosed sobbing, but the whole leaning-on-people-who-care-about-me thing.
And maybe the crying, too. A little bit.
“How much is dad freaking out?” Silas asks, once I’ve calmed down a little.
I manage a watery laugh. “He’s a mess. Has no idea what to do with me. He asked me if I wanted him to play guitar for me.” The boys crack up. “Like, how is Cash Ransome’s electric guitar supposed to help me?”
“Maybe he would have busted out the acoustic,” Will says, chuckling. “Considering the circumstances.”
I lean into Wyatt’s shoulder as I look over at Will.
“I’m still mad at you,” I tell him, without heat. “You were very rude to Sol at the concert.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I was just worried about you.” He squeezes my arm. “You’ve never really given us a chance to do the whole protective big brother thing, you know. You always have everything under control. I think part of me just wanted to defend you a little.”
I glare at him. “But why would you think I needed defending from him?”
“It was a little weird, Ceece,” Wyatt says gently. “I mean, the two of you went over and hid in a corner with Ash right after you got there.”
“Yeah, because the family—including the two of you—” I give my oldest brother a glare, too, “were acting crazy.”
“And usually,” he argues. “You’d be right there in the middle acting crazy with us. Seeing you hide out was…concerning.”
“He’s the first guy you’ve ever introduced to your family,” Will says before I can argue.
“It was obviously serious between the two of you. But looking at you, it just didn’t make sense to me.
You seemed so different from each other.
” My brother smiles. “I look at you and you’re full of life, Ceece.
Always the bright spot in everyone’s day, always the center of attention, whether you want to be or not.
Then here comes this broody, silent guy who looked like he didn’t want to be there.
I couldn’t figure out what you were doing with him. ”
I open my mouth to defend Sol but Will raises a hand. “Let me finish, okay? When I saw him after you got hurt at your game, I realized what an idiot I had been. There you were, trying to convince everyone you were fine, and then he walked in and you completely fell apart.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I mutter.
“That’s not a bad thing, Ceece.” He rubs my arm. “It showed how comfortable you are with him. Being able to be vulnerable with someone is a big deal. It must mean that you trust him very much.”
And now I’m crying again. Because I was vulnerable and trusting with Sol, damn it. And it sucks that he wasn’t able to be the same with me.
I’m not sure if Will notices my fresh tears, because he keeps talking.
“And you should have seen him.” He laughs a little, looking over to Wyatt, who’s also smiling.
“It was like, super hero shit, the way he locked in.” He turns to Silas on the phone screen.
“I wish you were there, Si. Half the family is all gathered around her treatment table, totally getting in the way, being a major nuisance, and this guy didn’t give any of us a second glance.
Just went straight to CeCe and took care of her.
” Will shrugs. “It’s hard to not like a guy who clearly loves you that much. ”
I wipe at my eyes but the tears come faster. “Guess it doesn’t matter much anyhow,” I manage in a thick voice. “Since he dumped me and everything.”
This time Will reaches for the whole Kleenex box and hands it to me. “I’m sorry, Ceece,” he says, his voice regretful. “About the concert. Maybe I’ll get a chance to apologize to him sometime. Once he feels better and realizes that he just let the best thing that ever happened to him walk away.”
I give a watery laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” Wyatt says firmly. “You’re the best, Cecelia Ransome. And I’ve known you since the day you were born, so I’m an expert.”
Silas sighs through the phone. “I guess you’re okay,” he says, and I finally laugh for real.