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God, how I hate that he knows me so well.
More so than what his smile does to my body.
“What else?” My sister snorts. “This one was about suffragettes. I tried to watch it with her, but when I almost fell into a deep coma within the first five minutes of it, I switched the channel fast. No way was I going to spend my Friday night being bored to death when I could be easily enjoying myself watching some serial killer cut up his victims into tiny little pieces.”
“Feminists all around the world applaud your priorities, sis,” I grumble, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Hey, do you want to stay and watch it with us? It just started,” Daisy asks Noah.
“Sure, why not? Don’t have anything better to do.” He shrugs.
Since my sister is sitting in the only recliner in the room, Noah has no choice but to sit on the couch with me. Thankfully, he sits on the other end of it. Far at the other end, making sure there is a huge gap between us.
“Where's your mom?” he asks curiously after the killer on the screen kidnaps his first victim.
“Working the night shift. Only us here,” Daisy explains absentmindedly, snuggling under her fleece blanket, completely mesmerized by how the killer is sharpening his knives.
Even though this is not the type of movie I’d normally watch, my gaze continues to stay glued to the TV just so I’m not tempted to stare at the boy sitting on the other side of the couch. My attention only breaks from the screen when a loud crash of thunder erupts, making me jump from my seat. All three of us stare out the living room window, watching the violent wind thrash the leaves off the oak trees in the front yard. The storm is so bad that the window shutters bang furiously on the wall in tandem with the heavy rain hitting the porch, creating its own somber symphony to accompany the deafening sound of thunder.
"Are you worried about your dad?" Daisy asks, concerned, pulling her lower lip with her teeth. "It’s looking like it’s a big one tonight," she adds, and as if the storm heard her concern, the wind starts howling even louder.
"Nothing he isn't used to. He'll be fine," Noah dismisses, but I see a small flash of fear in his eyes.
"Hope so. I can’t wait until he comes home,” she replies in earnest.
“Since when have you ever been worried about my old man being out at sea during a storm?” Noah teases, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the room.
Daisy takes his attempt in easing her worry and runs with it.
“Since he promised we would get a new heating system added to the house. That’s when. This winter has been a bitch and it’s only November.”
“Ah. I should have known you’d have your own selfish reasons for wanting him to come home safe and sound.” He snickers with a full-blown smile to his face.
“But, of course. Why else would I be worried?” She laughs.
The way they both smile at each other has my stomach in knots. Noah and Daisy have always acted like normal siblings would from day one. Their comradery and playful banter comes effortlessly to them. I can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy with how easily Daisy seems to know exactly what to say to keep Noah relaxed and completely at ease with her.
I’ve always had the opposite effect on him.
But then again, he doesn’t inspire any calm in me either.
Noah is like the storm outside.
Loud, cruel, and catastrophic.
How I wish I hated it.
They start talking about something or other, but I’m not paying any attention. Instead, I just sit here quietly, too afraid that if I do open my mouth, I’ll end up saying the wrong thing.
"Dude, you're shivering," Daisy reprimands suddenly, pulling me out of my reverie. "Skylar, don’t be stingy and share your blanket with Noah before he freezes to death."
"I'm good," he retorts, clipped.
"Don’t be a hero, Noah. It’s fucking cold and you know it. Just scoot on over to Sky and get under the blanket with her. You'll thank me for it."
At first, I think he's going to come up with another excuse to not sit right next to me, but hell must have frozen over, because he takes my sister's advice to heart and eats the distance between us, until he’s right there beside me. I don’t even look at his face when I lift the blanket so he can cover himself up with it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles under his breath.
