by Ali Merci
There was a loud knock on her bedroom door, causing Carmen to reach towards the speakers and turn down the volume of The Script resonating throughout her room.
Normally, she wasn’t the type to play music really loud but this evening she needed a distraction. Anything to drown out the rest of the world for the twenty-five minutes she took getting herself ready.
Walking towards the door of her room, she pulled it open and began to speak. “Dad, we still have time before we need to—”
Asa stood there instead, leaning sideways on the doorframe with a small smile on his face.
Carmen blinked repeatedly, trying to understand what her eyes were seeing.
“Asa? What even—how are you—wait—”
Asa rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the wall, standing up to his full height. “Am I allowed to come in?”
Carmen couldn’t speak; she could only stare at him with her mouth agape, so she just nodded wordlessly, stepping aside to let him in. She was about to shut the door when Asa stopped her.
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Your Dad's orders. Leave the door open.”
Carmen flushed but obliged anyway, not wanting to push her dad’s buttons on the one day they needed to stick together more than ever.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a bewildered tone. Nevertheless she was unable to help the pleased smile from forming on her face.
“You’re going to that Thanksgiving dinner,” he said, shrugging. “and I know I can’t be there with you tonight, but... I don’t know, just wanted to see you before you go.”
She felt a fist squeeze her chest painfully tight as his words registered in her head. “You’re here as moral support?” She tilted her head to the side, gazing at him with a tender expression.
His cheeks coloured ever so slightly, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I mean... I know it’s not going to mean much when you’re actually there at that dinner, but—”
“It means the world that you dropped in to check on me, Asa,” Carmen murmured, stopping his train of thoughts.
He stopped fidgeting and shot her a relieved smile, before shrugging and seating himself on the edge of her bed.
Carmen shook her head to herself and moved towards the mirror, picking up her eyeliner and applying a thin coat of it. She could feel Asa’s eyes watching her but didn’t comment on it, feeling oddly comfortable with him in her room, on her bed. With Asa in there with her, the house felt more like a home than it had in the past few years. And the depth of that realisation, the implications behind it, and the way it emphasised on the intensity of her feelings for him terrified Carmen.
“You’re wearing a dress.” Asa observed and was surprised, trailing his eyes down her body.
“I try avoiding it when I can, but I just want tonight to go smoothly.” Carmen sighed, dropped the eyeliner on her dresser and evaluated her appearance. She’d adorned a deep burgundy dress, the kind that hugged her torso but flowed freely from her waist. “They’re all pretty—what’s the word?—aristocratic people. Don’t think they’d appreciate me showing up in a pair of skinny jeans and a bomber jacket.”
She met Asa’s eyes through the reflection in the mirror and watched his lips turn down into a frown.
“You’ve always had a huge heart,” he said. “But you’ve never been a doormat. You made that very clear when I took your journal when we met. Why on earth would you wear a dress if it’s not what you want?”
Carmen’s shoulders slumped. “It’s just a dress, Asa. If it helps me blend in and not stick out any more than I already do, I’d feel more comfortable.”
Asa stared at her for a couple more minutes before sighing in defeat and walking up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.
“I just wish they could see you for you,” Asa murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder as they both stared at each other through their reflections. “You’re amazing as you are and shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable around people who supposed to be your family.”
Carmen’s hand reached up to ruffle the top of his hair. “I'm comfortable around you, Asa,” she told him quietly, her voice serious. “And you are family to me.”
The purely affectionate smile he offered her right then awoke butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and she felt their wings graze her insides as they took flight.
“I love you,” he said softly, turning his face to press his lips against the side of her head.
“I know,” she told him, searching his eyes with her own but finding nothing but sincerity there as he uttered the words. “And I love you too.”
He grinned at her response, pecking her cheek quickly before pulling away. “I’m gonna head home now, all right?”
“Wait, you didn’t tell me how you got Dad to let you come in here.” Carmen raised a brow.
Asa chuckled. “Just told him the truth. That I wanted to see you off because I knew you were nervous about the dinner.”
“Oh,” Carmen mumbled, feeling that familiar sense of warmth that only Asa could bring flood her insides.
“Yeah.” He yawned, bringing up his hand to cover his mouth. “Sorry, stayed up all night yesterday to finish this book and then got dragged out of my bed by Wyatt to go to the Thanksgiving football match this morning.”
Carmen laughed lightly. “I didn’t know Wyatt was interested in football.”
“He isn’t a diehard fan.” Asa grinned. “He does hate the rival school though so he wanted to watch ours kick their ass.”
“And did we?”
“Yeah.” Asa nodded, then paused as his lips twisted into a small frown. “Our team captain was completely off his game today, though.”
“Team captain,” Carmen repeated, her tone guarded. “That’s Hunter.”
Asa nodded, averting his eyes and looking around her room instead. “Yeah, he seemed super distracted today.”
There were a million questions flying through Carmen’s mind, so many worried remarks sitting on the very tip of her tongue. But she kept her mouth shut, knowing it was pointless to ask Asa about Hunter’s mental state. Asa wouldn’t know, and neither would he appreciate her concern over someone that he loathed with every single cell in his body.
“Never mind that now.” He waved it off, smiling at her reassuringly. “He’s not your problem. You’ve got enough on your mind for tonight.” He leant forward and placed a quick kiss on her temple. “Good luck with everything at the dinner,” he told her. “I really hope things go okay for you.”
Carmen offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Asa. Now go on and get some sleep. You look like shit.”
He rolled his eyes, but shot a smile in her direction anyway before leaving her room and closing the door with a soft click.
•••
Carmen pressed her lips tightly together as her father parked the car in the driveway of the large house, right behind a dark blue Land Rover. There were few other luxurious cars parked in front of them, making Carmen’s stomach coil into knots at the fact that there would be at least three other families in there already. Both Carmen and her dad sat there in the car for what felt like hours but were actually a couple of minutes. Painstakingly long minutes.
“All right,” her father breathed out loudly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel while his knee bounced anxiously. “Let’s go. Come on.”
Carmen clutched the door handle like it was her lifeline—as if it was Asa’s hand—and breathed in slowly.
Inhale. Exhale.
I love you, Asa had told her today just before she left the house to come here.
Inhale. Exhale.
She could get through tonight. Carmen could do this. And if she ever felt her breathing falter, all she needed to do was think of him. She’d think of Asa or recall something he’d said to her and then she would be able to breathe again.
“Yeah.” She exhaled slowly, turning to her dad and smiling tightly. “Yeah, let’s just go in.”
&n
bsp; Her father led the way to the front steps of the house, and Carmen trailed behind him, both of them too much of a bundle of nerves to be saying anything to each other.
She watched as the large oak doors were opened by someone from the help (most probably the housekeeper) and Carmen stopped in her tracks, the reality of the situation hitting her a little too hard, like a swift kick to her chest.
“Carmen?” her dad called out tentatively, watching her with cautious eyes while she stood at the foot of the steps, not making a move to climb it.
“Um.” She swallowed. “Why don’t you go ahead, Dad?” She rubbed her palms together, the chilly air seeping into her bones despite the cardigan she wore over her dress. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He opened his mouth, as if to say something but then closed it, offered her a strained smile and allowed the housekeeper to usher him in.
As soon as the door closed and Carmen was left by herself, she let her shoulders drop and started pacing around, frantic words and phrases spilling out of her mouth in her frenzied state. She felt a presence behind her just as a hand touched her elbow, causing her to jump away and whip her head around, pulling a muscle in her neck as she did so.
Her breathing came to an abrupt stop as her eyes landed on a dishevelled Hunter; his breathing was ragged as if he’d run all the way from his home. Carmen decided it was possible because she couldn’t find a car that just arrived, and neither did she hear the sound of any vehicle before he approached her.
His dark brown hair, which sported highlights of a lighter shade of brown, was a mess—another reason to believe he’d run all the way here.
“Um.” Hunter shifted on his feet awkwardly as Carmen continued to gape at him. “I’d really appreciate it if you quit with the gawking and just say something instead.”
“What—what are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, looking around him as if the answer would materialise out of the thin November air.
“Apparently there’s a thanksgiving dinner being held here,” he responded, the sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Shocking, huh?”
Carmen shot him a disapproving look, feeling that spark of irrational annoyance flare up in her whenever she was in Hunter’s presence.
“You told me you weren’t coming,” she reminded him.
“I did.”
“You said your dad didn’t allow it once he learnt about me being invited.”
“Yup.”
Carmen frowned deeply, knitting her eyebrows together in extreme perplexity. “But you’re here?”
“I am.”
Carmen let out a frustrated sound from the back of her throat, wondering how one person could effortlessly get under her nerves the way Hunter did.
“You know,” he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “You’re always so calm and relaxed but whenever it’s me you’re talking to, all your patience seems to just run out.”
“That’s because it does run out,” she told him flatly, noticing at the same time that her breathing was still not back to its natural pace. She didn't know if it was a trick of the lighting around the exterior of the house, but Hunter’s usually guarded eyes seemed to soften the tiniest bit.
“All right.” He shrugged. “Go ahead. Go on. Say whatever you want. Let it all out. Might help with the nerves.”
“My nerves are fine,” she mumbled, just wishing for Asa’s warm, protective arms to be wrapped around her right now.
“Sure they are,” Hunter muttered under his breath, but Carmen heard it anyway.
“Really, Hunter.” She pressed her lips together, squinting at him and trying to decipher his thought process. “Why are you here?”
A part of her—a tiny, tiny part—felt the beginning seeds of hope plant themselves right in the middle of her chest. Maybe she wasn’t dead to Hunter after all.
He didn’t respond to her question, and instead just sighed and attempted to fix his hair. “Come on, we can’t stand out here forever.”
He began climbing the steps, but Carmen remained rooted to the spot.
Hunter must have noticed the lack of a presence behind him, because he then looked over his shoulder and upon finding her still standing there, stopped in his tracks.
“You’re going to just freeze to death,” he deadpanned.
“Would be doing you a favour, right?” she asked quietly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. God, she hated being vulnerable in front of him.
With Asa, it was different. Carmen could wear her heart on her sleeve and cut open her chest for him to take a peek at her soul. But opening up with Hunter, letting her emotions show around him, made her feel weak. Pathetic even. Like she needed to be tougher in his eyes. As if her bones needed to turn to concrete and her tongue to steel.
Hunter visibly flinched at her words, but the momentary display of emotion was gone as soon as it had come.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he muttered, averting his gaze. “Just come in.”
“No.”
Hunter’s eyes snapped back to hers, incredulity written all over his face. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean no,” Carmen bit out, feeling that same old bitter feeling run through her veins as she struggled to keep her normally calm composure.
Hunter swore under his breath and looked away, jaw clenching angrily. “You’re never this difficult,” he snapped. “With anyone. Ever. Why do you have to act this way now?”
“And how exactly would you know that, Hunter?” Carmen laughed darkly. “How would you know whether I get difficult from time to time or not? Because you’ve been there by my side all these years? Because you’ve stood by me? Because you’ve been my brother?”
Carmen’s eyes stung, and she could feel the prickling sensation behind them—tiny little needles jabbing at her tear ducts endlessly while she struggled to get a grip on her emotions.
The frigid facade that Hunter seemed to always be wearing crumpled at her words, turning to ashes and dust then getting carried away with the wind.
But that vulnerable moment of his lasted for a fleeting moment, gone within a blink of Carmen’s eyes. She watched as Hunter’s expression just hardened, turning to stone before he turned back around and stormed towards the doors, leaving Carmen standing alone in the dark.
Why did it hurt even twelve years later? Hunter had abandoned her a lifetime ago, left her alone in the dark when she’d needed him the most, so how come watching him walk away hurt her just as much as it did the first time?
She watched him raise a fist to knock on the door, his clenched fist hanging in mid-air. She watched him bend his head and tilt it to the side as if he was having a debate with himself in his head, watched him kick the wall next to the door in frustration.
And then she watched him actually turn back around with a conflicted expression on his face.
After few more beats of hesitation, Hunter sighed and slowly walked back down the steps, coming to a stop directly in front of her. “What do you want from me, Carmen?” he asked quietly.
Her throat seemed to tighten at the same time the lump lodged there grew even larger, making it indefinitely harder for her to get the words out.
“I want you to tell me why you’re here,” she told him in a small voice, feeling like the five-year-old kid who had to go and confess that she’d broken one of his Marvel action figures when she’d tripped down the stairs with it. She’d expected him to be angry, then, to throw a tantrum and forbid her from touching any of his belongings ever again.
He hadn’t, though. He’d been too worried about whether she’d hurt herself from the fall. Then he stole some candy from the hidden stash before sneaking in to her room in the middle of the night to cheer her up.
It was how she felt again right now, standing in front of him, wondering if he was going to lash out and tell her to leave him alone.
Instead, his shoulders slumped forward slightly and he ran a hand down his exhausted face. “You know why I’m here,” he finally sa
id, looking at her for the first time without any coldness to his demeanour.
Carmen shook her head. “I need you to say it.”
Annoyance flickered across his face for a brief moment, and he looked away, swore under his breath, and then looked back down at her again.
“I didn’t.” He stopped himself, seeming to struggle with something that Carmen couldn’t exactly see. Hunter closed his eyes, breathed in deeply until he finally exhaled in a calm, steady manner.
When he opened his eyes, Carmen knew it was no longer a trick of the lighting; there was an almost tangible softness in his eyes. The normally cold blue irises of his looked like they actually held a certain kind of warmth in them now.
“I didn’t want you to be alone,” he eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was so frightened of someone hearing his vulnerability.
And right then, right there, in that single moment, Carmen caught a glimpse of the little boy she’d known once—a boy she had shared a strong bond enough to call him her brother. She clung to that sliver of hope with every jagged piece of her cracked heart.
“Come on.” He beckoned with his head towards the doors, something like the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He held out his arm for her, and Carmen hesitantly hooked her elbow around his, feeling like she was testing uncertain waters with no lifejacket, no guide—nothing. Nothing but the ghost of a childhood her soul still ached for.
Hunter rang the doorbell, and Carmen instinctively tightened her hold on his arm, acknowledging that she was about to step into the lion’s den, but also acknowledging that someone was willing to step into it with her, for her.
“Hunter,” Carmen said quietly while they waited for someone to answer the door. “Thank you.”
“Don’t.” He squeezed his eyes shut, as if her words pained him too much. “Don’t thank me, Carmen. You of all people don’t get to thank me.”
The large door opened just then, and Carmen offered a warm smile at the same woman who’d opened it for her father, before crossing the threshold and stepping into the house with Hunter.
“I’ve got twelve years of owning up to do,” he told her, his voice holding a certain kind of exhaustion she hadn’t heard before. “So don’t show me gratitude for doing something I should have done in the first place. Which was to have your back, through thick and thin.”
