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I reach up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around him, feeling his hands reach around me, too.
Holding his head, I bury my nose in his cheek, a sob lodged in my throat. I open my mouth, nearly going for his. I want to kiss him. I want to take care of him and give him love, because he’s going to die up here, never sharing his life with anyone.
I can make him feel good.
His mouth hovers over mine, and I know he wants it. His fingers dig into my waist.
But the hair at the back of his scalp is too short. It scratches my hand, not like Kaleb’s soft black hair.
Slowly, I drop my arms, and he pulls me in, hugging me instead.
I wrap my arms around him and close my eyes. I can’t leave him alone. Either, Noah stays, or Jake comes, too, or…
I don’t know.
I wander back upstairs alone. What’s going to happen when the roads open in eight or so weeks? It’s not much time. Is this how it ends?
Standing at the bottom of Kaleb’s stairs, I look up at his door. I haven’t opened it since December. No one has, but nothing has changed, I’m sure. Still cold, but probably a little dustier.
I climb the stairs.
The faint light out of the window casts the room in twilight, and I close the door behind me, rubbing my arms against the chill. I walk over to the fireplace and take a couple logs, laying them inside with some kindling. Swiping a match on the mantel, I light the fire and watch as the flames grow, warmth and light immediately drifting toward me.
The soft glow flickers across the floor, and I take the match, lighting a few candles he has set on the mantel and one by his bed.
Kaleb has candles. Heh.
I flip on his old iPod dock, an Amber Run song starting to play as I walk over to the bed and fan out the blanket and sheet, freshening them up. I fall on top, lying down and staring up at the ceiling as I reach around and caress my cheek.
Like he did when he carried me to his bed.
My heart aches.
I close my eyes, tears hanging at the corners. Mine. He’s mine. He should’ve stayed and fought with me.
I lie for a while, staring off and letting my mind wander. The room darkens as the sun sets, but it warms with the fire, and I don’t know where the time goes, but finally, I hear a knock on the door.
“Tiernan?”
I blink, wanting to be left alone. But I sit up. “Yes?”
“Dinnertime,” Noah says.
He must’ve searched everywhere before finally realizing where I was.
“I’ll be down later,” I tell him. “I’m tired.”
I don’t even look at the clock, but it has to be around six. I don’t feel like a movie tonight.
There’s silence on the other side of the door, but after a few moments, the stairs creak with Noah’s footsteps.
I roll over and bury my face in the pillow.
But I feel something hard and move my hand, gripping the object inside the case. What is that? I lift my head up and reach inside, pulling it out.
I hold a worn, brown hardback book and peer at it in the dim candlelight, flipping it over to read the spine.
Don Quixote Vol. II
