by Nora Flite
My grin was angled sharply. “You say that like this is torture.”
“It could be, in a way.”
Forcing a laugh, I ran a hand over my skull. “Grandparents tomorrow, twenty-third till the twenty-sixth, then back here to fly on the twenty-eight. So, what, five more days? Can you endure?”
“Maybe,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me before rolling onto her stomach. “Leave before I'm tempted to break the rules and make myself more scorned than ever in your family's mind.”
Chuckling, I shook my head and opened the door. “I'll see you in the morning, no need to wake up too early. We won't be leaving till noon or so.” And if she sleeps in, I can go get my shopping done before she even wakes up, avoid suspicious questions.
Making my way to my room across the hall, I wasn't prepared to find someone inside.
“Hey,” Nicholas said, glancing up from digging through a suitcase he'd set on the other mattress. “This is where I'm staying, right?”
“Yeah,” I said coldly, sitting on my bed. “I guess so. Where else would you sleep?”
Shrugging, he tossed out some socks onto the blanket, his eyes teasing. “I don't know, in my old room with your new girl, there?”
Stiffening up, I scowled at him in blatant distaste. Nicholas just gave a little laugh, waving at me appealingly. “I'm kidding, obviously. Relax.”
“I don't know,” I muttered, kicking my shoes off, preparing to gather things up again for traveling. “You didn't seem to have any qualms going after my ex.”
He said nothing, prompting me to glance at him when the silence grew too ominous. Those hard emerald eyes were watching me, unblinking. “Well, you know,” he said, “the key word there is 'ex' because, yeah, that's over with. You don't still have feelings for her, do you?”
Gawking, I resisted the urge to chuck my shoe at his head. “Of course not!”
Nicholas sat down, closing his case, setting it on the floor. “Good. It'd be awful if you were still holding a torch for her, but were planning to put your new girl through the fun of watching you pine from a distance.”
“Her name is Leah, not new girl, and I'm not going to do that.”
“Good,” he said, smiling sweet as poison. “I'd always considered you to be a moral person.”
I watched him, absorbing his words, his false concerns. His comment had poked at something I was already struggling with.
After everything with Owen, now the whole mess with how I'd attacked Nicholas...
I didn't know if I believed I was a moral person, anymore.
How can I be, with what I've done? This isn't how people react normally, is it? I shouldn't be getting so angry about my brother and my ex...
Should I?
In that moment, I still didn't know how to feel, or to act. Watching how comfortably Nicholas stripped down to his boxers and slid under the covers, not a hint of guilt on his content face, I couldn't keep myself from feeling bitterness over how he seemed to get everything without any issues.
Stop it, he has things you don't even want.
Despite thinking that, feeling convinced I didn't want Bethany back, the bitter jealousy wormed into my heart. Jealousy over Nicholas, the accomplishments he'd achieved.
Thing that I had not.
It was a jealousy that had been there far too long, and that I had never once allowed myself to deal with.
Chapter 7.
The day grew forth full of ink wash grey and brooding clouds, a morning that felt nothing like the normal joy of the holiday season.
I had already been up for a few hours, abusing the hot shower, cleaning up for my own personal trip.
I don't have a lot of time, I need to get into town, buy Leah's gift, then get back before she wakes up.
It seemed an impossible mission, I suspected she'd rise before I returned. But, that was still better than her seeing me leave in the first place. Making up a reason that I went out without her was the lesser of the two problems.
Stepping into the kitchen, my eyes flicked over the quiet room. The scent of coffee was strong; I wasn't shocked to see my mother awake, drinking a steaming cup at the table.
“Morning,” she said to me, smiling over the rim.
“Hey.” Grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, I dropped into a chair across from her. “Is it still okay if I borrow the car to go run into town quick to do some shopping? I'll be back before we leave for Grandaddy’s.”
Her head bobbed in a few nods, the cup of coffee keeping tempo so she could continue drinking it. Setting it down, she made a small noise of contentment. “If you'll be quick, that's fine with me. What are you planning to get?”
“Just gifts for people, I didn't get a chance to buy anything before hand. Not that flying with things would have been the wisest move, anyway,” I laughed.
My mom squinted at me, the look of someone who knew me too well. “Plus, then she'd be suspicious, or possibly come across it accidentally in your bags.”
Inclining my head, I studied her face like she might say more. I wasn't exactly sure what I expected, but I wasn't that surprised, in hindsight, that she knew what was on my mind. “You got me, yes, it's a gift for Leah.”
“Mmhmm,” she mused, lifting her mug again.
“What, what's that mean?”
“Nothing, nothing,” she shrugged, hiding her mouth behind her coffee. “I'm just observing.”
Frowning, suddenly self-conscious about what she was implying, I leaned backwards. “Come on, Mom, tell me what you mean.”
“Well,” she sighed, looking at me calmly. “You just... tend to do this.”
“To do what?”
“Put all this effort into impressing a girl you like.”
That stopped me cold, a defensiveness seeping in as I mulled over her words. Before I could resist, the question that had been prodding at me since she'd picked Leah and myself up at the airport came out. “What about you, do you like her?”
“I hardly know her,” she said quickly, the mood shifting to one of irritation. “Give me a little time.”
That ball of anger, growing from everything I'd dealt with since yesterday, finally began to show itself in my tone. “How much time did you need to start 'liking' Bethany and Nicholas?”
“Deacon,” she snapped, almost slamming the cup onto the table. The sound, sharp and solid, shook me from most of my irrational mood.
Blushing up my throat, I stood carefully, as if I might accidentally knock the chair over. “I'm sorry, I just... you shouldn't pretend like what's going on isn't weird.”
“If you want to talk weird... what was going on with Leah's neck the other night? What were those marks from?”
A numbness sank into my hands, making me set the apple down. “Nothing, I don't want to talk about that.”
“And on top of that, you've known her how long? A month?”
“Over a month,” I grumbled, regretting getting into this discussion.
My mom nodded sagely, like I'd given her the answer she expected. “So, you want to try and tell me that your brother dating a nice girl like Bethany is weird, while you show up with someone you won't tell us a thing about, that you've hardly spent any time yourself with. That, to me, is worth calling weird.”
“What's weird, now?” The voice came from behind us, my brother waltzing into the kitchen casually. He was clean, recently shaved, not that he seemed able to grow much facial hair as it was.
My jaw tightened; I met my mom's eyes, then turned away. She spoke first, sweet as honey. “Morning, dear. How did you sleep?”
“Great!” He declared, heading to the fridge, pouring himself a glass of milk. “Just great, exactly what I needed.” Sipping the drink, he smiled at me, eyes tracing up and down my figure. “Going out?”
“Just getting some shopping done,” I said, wishing I'd had more time to talk about the elephant in the room with my mom.
“Oh, nice. I'll come with you.” He finished his milk, then ri
nsed the glass out in the sink.
Blinking, I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped when something touched my wrist. Looking down, I found my mother had reached across the table, her soft hand on mine. The expression on her face was one of a silent plea. It appealed to my already heavy guilt.
“Alright,” I sighed, flashing her a tiny smile. “Fine, we can go together.”
“Let me get my coat,” Nicholas said, hurrying down the hall towards the hangers.
She gave my wrist a squeeze, then let me go. Leaning back, she stirred her coffee with a small spoon, seeming content. “Thank you.”
“I'm only doing this for you,” I admitted, my voice tired. “I didn't want to spend time with him.”
“I know,” she said. “Again, thank you.”
Turning on my heel, I began to leave the kitchen, until her words called me back for a brief second.
“Deacon,” she said gently, drawing my glance. “Like I said... just give me some time.”
Her words didn't inspire confidence in me. I wished she would have simply said she liked the girl I was falling for, that she just approved in some fashion.
Give her some time... What other choice do I even have?
I left without responding.
****
Neither Nicholas nor I talked for some time as we drove into town. That was fine with me, I wasn't sure what I could even say to my brother, what conversation we could force with the tension hanging over us.
Reaching out, he turned on the radio, letting the music blare. Christmas carols plagued us both, breaking the quiet with something only slightly more tolerable.
“I'm sick of these,” he admitted, clicking the music down again. “You'd think one station would just settle for playing anything besides holiday songs one year.”
“Mn,” I agreed softly, turning the car towards the street that led into town.
Again, neither of us spoke. Not until Nicholas finally sighed dramatically. “I can feel how pissed you are, Deacon.”
“Yup,” I said bluntly, glancing up at the sky. The clouds were still chunky, not dropping the snow they wanted to.
“Is this seriously what you're going to do this whole time? Be silent and angry with me?”
“I haven't exactly decided yet.”
“Man,” he laughed, scratching at the side of his head. I felt his eyes on me, but refused to look away from the road. “You're kidding. You're the type that tries to plan everything out three steps ahead.”
Opening my mouth, I went to disagree, but was too surprised by the accusation. “Wait, what?”
Nicholas adjusted his seat, leaning back. “It's true, you were always trying so hard to be prepared for everything. Even when it came to other people. So, I don't know, it's hard for me to believe you don't already know what you're going to do about this whole—”
“Hold on,” I said, biting the air. “Where are you getting this from?”
“Uh, from me? Did you decide to forget I grew up with you or something?”
“I—of course not.” Scowling, I gripped the wheel and guided the car around a corner. “That's a ridiculous thing to even say.”
“Whatever.” He snorted, staring out his window, confusing me further with his silence.
Is he serious? I wondered, unsure what to make of this revelation. Does he really think I plan everything ahead that much. Or worse, that I erased him from my history?
“Look,” I said, fighting to decide on how to phrase my thoughts, “this whole thing is a mess. You can't expect me to just be happy about you and Bethany, can you?”
I felt his eyes on me, and risked a quick glance as I slowed the car. That face was hard, scrutinizing. “I don't think you've ever been happy for me.”
“Oh, come on that's—”
“But,” he cut me off, “maybe this once you should try it. If she and I are happy together, what's the big problem?”
“Nicholas,” I growled in frustration, “she hurt me, she hurt me really bad! Do you not grasp that?”
“I grasp it,” he said quietly, “but I don't think you're seeing my side of things. Or hers, for that matter.”
That shut me up, I couldn't decide how to respond. Fighting a surge of anger, a wave of guilt, the combination struck me breathless.
Impossible, of course I see their side. They just don't seem to care how painful it is for me to see her... to see her again, or at all.
It isn't about seeing them happy... right?
Pulling into the parking lot of a retail store, I cut the engine. Leaning back, I twisted until I could squint at Nicholas full on. I wanted to watch his reaction. “Are you and her actually happy together?”
“Do you really want to know?”
I paused, before nodding quickly. “I do.”
He was studying me as much as I was him, I could tell by the contemplative wrinkle across his forehead. “I love her, Deacon.”
It was like being stabbed, a searing pain that made me hiss through my teeth. I had lied to myself, lied to him, thinking I was prepared for such a thing.
Holding my stomach, my body went limp in the seat, eyes shutting as if to hide the evidence from me. The honest, serious look in his eyes when he had uttered those words...
It was impossible to escape.
He really means it.
“Hell,” he breathed out, encouraging me to crack my lids. “That really hit you hard, didn't it? Are you sure you don't still, you know, want her—”
“No. No, that's not it. I'm just... I guess hearing that, it sort of took the wind out of me.” Chuckling in defeat, I let myself look at Nicholas and tried to see past my irrational emotions. “I don't think I care that you're dating my ex... I think it's more that she's dating you. Does that make sense?”
“Perfectly,” he sighed, unclasping his seat belt. “You really don't want anything good to happen to me, do you?”
“I—what?” Baffled, I watched him exit the car without looking back at me once. “Nicholas, hey! Dammit,” I mumbled, wriggling out of the door, following him. “Wait up, hey!”
He's wrong, he has to be wrong.
That, or maybe... maybe I really don't like the idea of him being happy?
The idea made me sick, so I took long strides to catch up with my brother. He managed to get through the automated doors of the store before I finally could grab his arm. “Hey!” I shouted.
Nicholas wrenched away, glaring at me hotly. “Don't touch me, Deacon. Just back off.”
“Look, calm down,” I said carefully, my head pounding from the turn this had taken. Wasn't I the one who was supposed to be angry?
“I don't want to calm down,” he growled, stomping down an aisle.
“Nicholas,” I groaned, following him desperately. “Please, just talk to me!”
“No,” he shouted over his shoulder. “How does it feel to have someone refuse to listen to you for once?”
That shut me down. Standing still, I watched him walk away until he vanished deep into the store.
What have I done?
Reeling from shock, I held my skull and hunched over. Time stood still, a long moment in which I fought to keep from throwing up what could only be acrid bile. I still hadn't eaten anything, the apple had gone forgotten on the table after my mother's conversation with me.
Exhausted, weak, I leaned on the shelf of stuffed animals, amazing myself by not collapsing.
Everything is all messed up. Is it because of me? Have I really done all this?
Nicholas thinks I have nothing but resentment for him... my mother questions my rationale in investing in Leah...
Leah, am I hurting you, too, by not being able to grasp how I really feel?
And what about...
What about Bethany?
The very concept that I could have been in the wrong in regards to her was too much. My worldview was flipping, it sent me spinning into a blackness that brought nothing but the most painful of memories.
Five Years Earlie
r
Chapter 8.
We'd managed to go on several dates over the course of our summer after junior year. Each of them was glorious for me.
At least, initially.
Bethany was the purest example of virginity and chaste; she would let me hold her hand, but we didn't even hug until the second month.
Still, I bit my tongue on all of it, continued to bask in her presence as we were allowed to enjoy our time together under the watchful attention of her parents.
In the end, though, I craved something far more intimate with the girl I adored.
Thus began the process of encouraging her to stay out later and later. My logic was that we would both be turning eighteen in a few months, so with our senior year coming at us fast, shouldn't we be trusted to be alone?
Amazingly, it worked.
“I still don't know how you got my dad to agree to let you take me on a day trip to the lake,” she'd laughed, watching me pack a bag with sunscreen and snacks.
“Because,” I chuckled, setting a large sun hat on her head, “I'm just very charming. Also, your parents trust me.”
“You think that,” she smiled, tugging the hat off and tossing it aside. “If you push them too hard, they'll push back.”
“Come on,” I laughed, zipping the bag shut deftly. “We're essentially adults, aren't we?”
“Not exactly yet, no.”
“Almost,” I grinned. “Four months for me, that's just around the corner.”
Bethany rolled her eyes, sitting on my bed. Her feet, decorated in cute white sandals, kicked idly. “And three months for me. It won't matter, I'll be eighteen and my parents will treat me like I'm ten still.”
Leaning down, I moved to kiss her cheek, ignoring how she giggled and tried to dodge me. “And what will they do when you go to college? They can't control you if you're not living with them.”
She froze, eyes sliding suspiciously to the side. I noticed she wasn't looking at me, so I knelt down, taking her hands gently. “Hey,” I murmured, “what is it? What's that look for?”
