I nodded and slipped my sandals off by the door, then padded across the carpet to his bed. It creaked when I sat on the edge, and the sheets smelled like him—fresh and clean, like the air when it rains.
“This thing is ancient,” Brooklyn said, waving around an Xbox controller. “But it gets the job done.”
“Which one are we starting with?” I asked, trying to get comfortable but nottoocomfortable on his bed.
“Ladies first.” He grinned and shook the DVD box forGummo.
He loaded the DVD on the console, then flopped onto the bed and put his hands behind his head, his T-shirt sleeves straining against his arms. How was I supposed to sit next to him, desperate to keep enough distance between us for fear of spontaneous combustion from the heat his body gave off?
The beginning of the movie was grainy, and the sound quality was shoddy at best. The town in the movie was ravaged by a tornado, and the child narrating the film seemed almost amused by it.
I glanced over at Brooklyn, who seemed engrossed in the bizarre imagery of the movie. His breathing had steadied, and every so often his eyes would droop shut, just for a moment, before snapping back open. Looking at him was like driving by a car crash—it was wrong to stare, but impossible not to.
I tried to turn my attention back to the movie. The boy in the movie held a dirty gray cat by the scruff of its neck, then put it in a trash can and aimed a shotgun at it.
“Oh my god, are they actually going to shoot that cat? I can’t watch that.” On instinct alone, I turned my body into Brooklyn’s, burying my face in his chest. His body vibrated under me as he chuckled, and I felt him gently snake his arm around my shoulder, but he kept the weight of his arm suspended over me, like he still wasn’t sure if that was where it belonged. The sound of the gun went off with a muffled bang.
“We can change it to the other movie if you want to,” he said.
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine.” I shook my head and lifted it off of his chest, smoothing my hair back. “I can handlea lotin movies, but animal cruelty is not high up on that list.”
“That makes sense. I can watch someone get hacked up and not bat an eye, but I cry every single time Atreyu loses Artax in the firstNeverending Story.”
“Exactly.” I threw my hands up. “You get it.”
In fact, I was growing exceedingly aware of how much Brooklyngot it. He got a lot of it, and the speed with which this was all making sense was much faster than the logic of it not making sense.
I let out a sigh and slowly, more cautiously this time, leaned my head on Brooklyn’s chest. His fingers grazed my arm gently, sending goose bumps prickling up my skin. His chest heaved as he exhaled, and he finally let his arm rest on my shoulders. I eased my eyes shut, listening to the slow, rhythmic pounding of his heartbeat. I felt safe in his arms, like the world could end and we would still be exactly where we were, untouched and unscathed. Our bodies fit together perfectly. Almost too perfectly.
>> <<
“Is she sleeping?” a voice whispered.
I slowly opened my eyes, my cheek still pressed against Brooklyn’s soft T-shirt and my hair obscuring most of my face.
“I think so,” I heard Brooklyn say. He shifted his body underneath me, and I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could.
“Dad’s calling,” the voice whispered again. I finally recognized it as Stella’s, but more tense and uneasy. “Mom thinks you should talk to him.”
“Why?” Brooklyn hissed. He shifted again under me, this time gently sliding me off of him and resting my head on a pillow. I felt the bed rattle as he got off and walked to the doorway. I inhaled deeply and held my breath, trying to focus on their hushed words.
“I haven’t done anything wrong, but he acts like he knows even though he’s a thousand miles away.” Brooklyn continued, “I was trying to buy a $12.95 movie, do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? And in front of her?”
“Brooklyn, I don’t know.” Stella sounded tired now, like she’d had this exact conversation before. “In fact, all Idoknow is that you’re both being stubborn.”
“I don’t care how bad it looks, he needs to get off my back.” Brooklyn spoke again, his voice tight. “Maybe if he fucking trusted me, we wouldn’t have this issue.”
“You avoiding him doesn’t help your cause.” Stella sighed. “Go talk to him.”
Brooklyn let out a groan before his footsteps faded away down the hall. I opened my eyes to see Stella still standing in the doorway. The perfectly manicured facade she usually wore was gone, replaced by her hair up in a messy bun and tired eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Stella mumbled. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” I said as I sat up. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s okay,” Stella said hurriedly. “My brother and my dad, they just bump heads sometimes.”
Stella twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger. I thought maybe I could hear the faint sound of Brooklyn’s raised voice, but Stella sighed and walked over to me, sitting on the side of the bed. She rested her hands in her lap.
