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“Are you hungry?” she asks.
“I could eat. How about I throw something together, and we can watch a movie?” I suggest.
“One-hundred percent down for a movie. Why don’t I run and pick something up for dinner?”
I groan. Great. Brooklyn has become my mom. Just what she needs. I’m sure she’s thrilled to play nursemaid when she could be having a dinner-breakfast date with this Drew person.
“Carter?”
“I feel horrible.”
“I know you do, that’s why I don’t want you to do anything.”
“No. I feel horrible about your plans.”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t need to take care of me.” I’ll be the first to admit when I’m not feeling well, my emotions get the better of me. I can feel tears welling in my eyes. My chest hurts, and it’s not from coughing.
I don’t know what I see when Brooklyn looks at me. For a second, I think she’s about to cry too. She puts her hand over mine. “Isn’t that what friends do?” she asks. “You’d do the same for me.”
Yes, it is, and yes, I would. The problem is, I care about Brooklyn differently than she cares about me. What can I say?“Sorry. I’m just jealous because I wish you wanted to make me pancakes in the morning.”No doubt Brooklyn would make me pancakes. I’ve had dinner-breakfast dates with Brooklyn too. That’s not the issue. My problem is knowing what Brooklyn will share with Drew after dinner and before pancakes. This is why remaining friends with a person you’ve fallen in love with is next to impossible—if you hope to avoid heartbreak. I’m not about to share any of that with Brooklyn.
“I would do it for you,” I reply.
“For the record, Carter, I’m here because I want to be, not for any other reason.”
I smile at her. “How about we compromise? I’ll order something to be delivered. You pick a movie.”
“Deal.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“For?”
“Staying.”
Brooklyn squeezes my hand. “I’ll get your phone from the kitchen.”
I’m relieved when she walks away. I need to catch my breath. This will be the second time Brooklyn and I go to bed and wake up in the same house. My thoughts roam back to Drew. Not the same. I close my eyes and try to breathe. “Get it together, Carter. You need to get it together.”
***
DECEMBER 12th
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Ali observes.
“You haven’t seen me in a week.”
“No, but I heard you on the phone. Plus, I ran into Brooklyn yesterday.”
“You were in New York?”
“No. Brooklyn was in New Haven. I was at Jack’s. Brooklyn was leaving Jack’s when I got there.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? What’s up with you, Carter?”
