by Celeste, B.
“What?” he challenges.
“Jesus.” I throw my hands up. “Why are you being such an ass? I thought we were friends. Friends tell each other if they’re going to be gone that way people don’t think they’re trapped in a ditch somewhere hurt. I’m so sorry for worrying about you. I’ll try not to give a shit next time.”
Starting to walk away, I hear him curse before calling out to me. “Stop. I’m just … shit, I’m tired. I didn’t mean to snap. I don’t know how to do the friends thing.”
That halts me. “You have Jay.”
“Yeah, well I haven’t slept with him.”
I cringe, slowly turning to face him again. My palm rests on the doorjamb. “I can see where that puts us in an awkward situation. That doesn’t mean I can’t care about you.”
He just rubs the back of his neck.
“You’re right, though. You don’t owe me any explanations about where you’re going or who you’re going with,” I relent softly. “If it came off that way, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” His eyes stay locked on my face in wait. “Danny died leaving my apartment. Car accident. I didn’t know until Mable called me because the hospital contacted her to identify the body.”
Another curse escapes his lips. “I didn’t know that.”
I shrug. “We don’t know each other,” is all I offer him, smiling the best I can. “I just want you to know that I want to be friends. If that’s too weird, I get it. How we left things the other day was… It sucked, honestly. I won’t push for anything that makes you uncomfortable though.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“You were angry with me,” I murmur.
“More like myself,” he mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear. But I don’t think he meant me to. He clears his throat and sits on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and looks around the room. “I was in the system until I was eighteen. Never got adopted. Never found a good home. I don’t have family worth putting in frames and displaying anywhere. Jay and I don’t really get pictures together, and he’s the only one I have. Besides you.”
He says the last part so quietly it’s almost full of uncertainty. It doesn’t take long for that to fall from his features, as if the hesitation of our status never crossed his mind.
I give him a sad look. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“If you ever want to talk about it…”
He shakes his head. “The past is the past, Piper. There’s a reason I don’t dwell on it. Some things can’t be changed. That’s life. I know I’m lucky even if I never got adopted or given a chance. I was never beaten, neglected, starved, or abused like so many others in the system are. I’ve heard some awful shit and accepted that getting out unscathed is nothing short of a miracle. That’s all that matters. All that needs to be said.”
Rubbing my upper arm, I manage to nod even if I don’t agree. That has to weigh on his conscience even if he pretends it doesn’t. “Do you mind me asking about your birth parents?”
“I don’t know much about them.”
“You’ve never tried asking?”
His eyes darken as he scrubs a palm down the side of his face, the muscles in his arm flexing from the movement. “I was told they were young when they abandoned me on the steps of a church for a pastor to find the following morning. I was cold, struggling to breathe, and had to be in the hospital for a month to recover before social workers came and took me away. They were never found. I never asked.”
I can see why he wouldn’t. Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions if you don’t want the answers. Then again, I’ve always been the opposite. “You don’t think you’ll ever wonder?”
“Piper.” He sighs heavily. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever wonder why they gave me up. They did for whatever reasons they felt were justified and it’s over with. I’m content with my life. Why would I disrupt that?”
My mind instantly goes to the conversation I had with Carter in his office. “You shouldn’t have to settle with contentment. Listen, you obviously do what’s best for you. I’ll back you no matter what because that’s what friends do. But if you ever feel the need to talk, just know I’m here.”
He doesn’t say anything.
Clicking my tongue, I nudge my bare toes against the carpet. “About before you left…” I press my lips together for a moment before nodding once in encouragement to myself. “I’m sorry about upsetting you. When I went out before, it really wasn’t a date.”
His eye twitches. “Before,” he repeats slowly, looking away. “I take it you’ve had dinner since?”
I try to keep my voice even. “He ordered us something.” I’m not sure why I tell him. Maybe it’s because it seemed so final when he blew me off—like he didn’t care about it because we were just sleeping together. “Anyway, I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m here if you need anything. Roommate. Friend. Whatever.”
He just looks at me. “What about you?”
That catches me off guard. “What about me?”
“Are you content?” When I realize he’s asking about Carter, I let my lips part as oxygen slowly floods my lungs. There are many things I could answer. I could be honest, I could lie, or I could avoid it altogether. But I meant what I said to him. I want to be there for him which means it’s a two-way street.
“I’m working on it,” I admit.
He simply nods.
“You should too,” I add. “Work on being happy, I mean. Nobody should settle for anything less. Life is too short for that.” My voice breaks as I think of Danny. He’d been happy, I knew as much. Willow made him that way. Ainsley. Mable. Me. He was surrounded with the kind of happiness I strive to experience too.
His death took that from me. Maybe, just maybe, Carter can change that. And the way Easton watches me for a long, stretched out moment, I wonder if he has somebody that he’s willing to find happiness with too.
He blinks. “Yeah, Piper. I’ll work on it.”
I smile.
He doesn’t smile back.
Teaching Carter’s class has become a favorite part of my day. Being in front of the classroom feels natural, it clears my head from everything except what’s in the moment. Carter could see that when he watched me, I noticed as much. I also ignored it because I couldn’t risk looking at him like I wanted to.
When the classroom empties every time, my heart goes into overdrive as we clean up our things and listen to hordes of students walking in and out of the building outside the room. There’s something lingering in the air, a feeling, an unspoken thought.
Today we’re slower. We pick up every piece of paper with strategy. He stays close to me while collecting his textbook and packing his bag, and I track my movements that leads my arm to brush his. There are no other sounds besides the thump, thump, thump of my heartbeat.
It’s when there’s nothing left to pick up and put away and mere feet separating us from the door when we finally glance at each other. Me through my lashes, and him straight on without apology. Those brown eyes heat my cheeks and stir my mind with the encouragement I’ve been getting from Jenna and my own conscience.
“Is there something here?”
“I’d like there to be.”
We haven’t talked about it, but we haven’t skated around it either. We’ve just done what we’re here to do—teach and learn. And that makes this easier. This. Us. Whatever it is.
“You’re doing well,” he says softly, bumping my shoulder gently with his. “I can tell you love being up there.”
Nibbling my lip, I situate my bag on my shoulder. “It feels good to be there in front of them. I wasn’t sure this would be the right path for me when I first started. I was too shy.”
He cocks his head. “You were never that shy growing up. What changed?”
My shoulders lift on their own accord. “I did, I guess. Time. Practicability.” We begin walking to the door side by side. “When I was in undergrad, I chose a Hi
story major because it’s the only subject I love. The past fascinates me. Seeing what the future holds because of it has always kept me on my toes. But then Danny’s accident happened, and I wasn’t sure I was going to finish my degree because I didn’t have a game plan. And with Ainsley in my care, I knew I needed one.”
“So you decided to teach,” he confirms.
I nod, thanking him for holding the exit door open for me as we walk outside into the brisk morning air. “It made sense. A lot of the people I had classes with were moving onto their master’s for teaching or already a dual major on that path.”
“But you love it. I can see it.”
I follow him down the crowded paved path of students on their way to various classes. It doesn’t take me long to formulate a response because I know in my heart I do. “I fell in love with having a plan. I’d always been organized. My friends teased me about liking school and focusing on grades and trying to be on top of things, but my future was one thing that always seemed uncertain. In a horrible way, Danny gave me one. Just not the one I thought he’d give me.”
“He gave you Ainsley.”
I lick my bottom lip before drawing it into my mouth, heart easing with tenderness over the small strawberry blonde in my head. “He gave me somebody to love.”
Staring at the salted ground as we walk toward the administration building with his office housed inside, I struggle to swallow past the lump in my throat when I repeat those words to myself.
Danny couldn’t love me.
He knew it. I knew it.
But he gave me somebody who could.
Tears well in my eyes that hurt to hold back. Before I can stop it, one rolls down my cheek and lands on the ground. Carter murmurs something before tugging me toward the building.
We’re silent until we get to his office. He unlocks the door and gently guides me in. Not one person looked at us the entire way—not caring, unknowing.
And when the door closes behind me…
“Piper,” he whispers, drawing me into his body in a tight hug. I find myself melting into his warmth, burying my now-damp face into his shirt and winding my arms around his torso. His cheek rests on the top of my head.
“I’m n-not sad. I’m…” What am I? I shake my head and stay in the position we’re in, needing this. Needing him to hug me and remain silent and just be warmth in a cold season. When my thoughts are collected, I move my face enough to speak without jumbling my words into his chest. “I’m happy that I have her, but that means it was at his expense, his life, Carter. It took him dying for me to feel such an impenetrable love for another human. And I hate myself for it.”
“Hey—” His hold tightens on my body, one of his arms sliding just enough to hook around the small of my waist and pull me harder against his body. “—you do not need to hate yourself over that. You have no reason to be guilty or any other bad thing just because you love his daughter. He gave you a gift because he trusted you with it. Danny knew what he was doing when he gave you that responsibility.”
But did he? Did he know my future was never planned? Or that there were days I could barely function on my own. I was isolated. I hated going out. I considered college a period of stalling that way I didn’t have to live life yet.
The more I think, the more I realize he did. Carter is right. Danny knew exactly what he was doing when he put my name down on that piece of paper that changed my life forever.
I didn’t resent him.
Not for not loving me.
Not for giving me Ainsley.
Things happened for a reason.
When I peel myself away and blink up at him with sore, watery eyes, his expression is soft as he studies me. One of his hands comes up, his thumb brushing at my wet cheek, as he leans forward and presses a light kiss to my opposite one.
My heart stops.
My breath holds.
And when he draws back and smiles with his palm cupping the cheek, I know I’ll be okay because I have him in some way, some form, and some fashion. “I’ll always be here if you need to talk, Piper. You know that, right?”
Thump, thump, thump.
My lips part. “I know.”
In this very moment, with little room between us, I feel the shift. He looks at me in a new light. Not like the teen he used to know, or as his best friend’s little sister. And definitely not as his student.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s well past midnight when I creep downstairs, with tired eyes and a headache, unable to fall back asleep. After popping a couple pills and laying in my bed with no luck, all I wanted was a cold glass of water and background noise.
Curling up in a ball on the couch, I rest my head on the piled-up pillows and close my eyes once I put a feel-good show on. The throbbing in my temples only eases when I lower the volume and loosen my body to settle into the cushions.
I’m not sure what time it is when I hear a soft voice ask, “Can’t sleep?”
Flickering my eyes open, I see a shirtless Easton in black sweatpants with a glass of water in his hands. “Headache.”
He sits in the armchair. “Take something for it?” Sipping his water, he looks at me with wary eyes. “You’re pale.”
I don’t tell him that I’ve been staying up late doing homework, grading papers, and thinking about Carter and the dinner he asked me out on the day before. Stress and overthinking have a lot to do with the current state of my temples. “I took some already. Thanks.”
He makes an affirmative noise.
“Can’t sleep either?” At first glance, he doesn’t look that tired. He got home early and went upstairs after saying hi to Ainsley and me where I was helping her do homework in the living room.
“No.”
I don’t ask if he wants to talk because I know he would if he wanted to. “Sorry.”
He scrubs at his clean-shaven jaw. “It’s cool. What are you watching?” His eyes travel to the television screen, showcasing one of my favorites. “Looks girly.”
It’s a weird reality TV show that I honestly didn’t think I’d like but do. “It is, but it’s not bad. A group of people get put into this building without any interaction face to face. They can only talk through text message.”
He blinks, then makes a face.
I stifle a laugh. “It’s a guilty pleasure show. Some people catfish the others, but there’s a lot of genuine people who just remain themselves throughout the game. They vote each other out using an anonymous rating system.”
“So, it’s Big Brother meets Survivor.”
Cracking a smile, I answer, “Pretty much.”
He doesn’t say anything else as he watches it with me, making noises when somebody says something weird, or the players overly flirt to build alliances. Easton isn’t a flirt, not an intentional one. But I wonder if he realizes he doesn’t need to be. All it takes is him giving somebody an intense look before panties everywhere melt right off women’s bodies.
I snort to myself over the thought, catching his attention. “What’s so funny?”
Trying to pass it off like somebody did something funny wouldn’t even work because nothing interesting is happening right now. “I was just trying to picture you in the game.”
He remains quiet.
“You’d be voted off pretty quick.”
“Why?”
I look over at him, sitting up slightly so I see him better. “Well, you’d have the looks advantage with the ladies if you chose to use your real pictures. But it’s the personality that keeps people in the game. Like the bromance between Max and Alex. They’re forming connections. You know, using words.”
One of his brows lifts. “Are you saying I don’t know how to use my words?”
I click my tongue. “I’m saying it takes somebody with a strong personality to win this sort of game. Someone who’s willing to flirt with the right people and befriend the others to keep themselves safe.”
Another throaty noise comes from him. “I would make it at least a
couple days. There are better ways to get people to like me if my personality doesn’t do the trick.”
Rolling my eyes, I remind him of something important. “You can’t sleep with the contestants, Easton. There are cameras literally everywhere in the apartments. Even if they let you meet them face-to-face, you’d just be creating porn.”
“And who doesn’t love porn?”
Both my eyebrows raise over that question as heat creeps up the back of my neck. I guess he has me there, but I choose not to comment on it. “If it makes you feel better, I’d probably be voted off in the beginning too.”
“I don’t buy that. If you go in as yourself, people will love you.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft as he delivers the sweet sentiment that makes my lips stretch upward.
Headache easing, I loosen a sigh. “That’s sweet, but I feel like the downside would be my alliance with the guys. They’re all flirting to try making the right connections. Almost all the real people playing are doing it to stay in. I’m a terrible flirt. We’re talking awkward.”
“Now I feel like I’ve missed out,” he muses, picking up his water to finish it.
I shake my head. “Trust me, I’m saving you. You’d never want to talk to me again.”
“I doubt that.”
Humming, I focus back on the TV. “Or they’d all think I’m so irresistibly adorable they all want to tuck me in their back pockets.”
His chuckle makes my smile grow. He can pretend he doesn’t find this show interesting, but he watches it like he does. I can tell he’s calculating who will be voted off and who will form the alliances that’ll save them. When he leans back and spreads his leg to get comfortable, I know he’ll want to watch the next episode.
So, we do.
I wake up when something stabs me in the ribcage and sends pain shooting through my body. When my eyes open, I’m instantly met with a face full of strawberry hair tucked in the front of me, and a pointy elbow digging into my side. I wince and try not to rouse the little girl who tucked herself on the couch at some point last night. Looking over when I hear a faint sound of deep snoring, I notice Easton still perched in the chair with his face resting against the back.
