Snow’s and my tense, energetic, half-sexual exchange is interrupted.
Lake stops in the doorway, seeming to sense the buzz in the air, and quickly puts the items away in the closet.
"There are just a few last things left," Lake says, with an amused grimace.
Snow turns his head away from my nest and darts a glance at me through eyes that are slightly narrowed, as if studying me.
But I'm already rushing toward the stairs.
We go out one last time for the rest of the stuff.
Nobody makes any further comment on the nest-hoodie situation.
I take the final grocery bag from the trunk while Snow turns for a moment to look at his dad, who is pulling flyers from under the windshield wipers.
What now? I have to somehow smoothly wiggle out of this situation. What if he thinks I invited him and knocks on my door tonight to take up my… invitation? The thought is both exciting and terrifying.
Or maybe he’ll show some understanding? Take my memory problems into account? I hope so!
As he cleans the car of flyers, I glance at him. And… stare. He’s wearing a fitted black long-sleeve that rides up a little when he leans across the hood to grab another flyer from the back of the car. I catch the shape of his abs and the sharp V that disappears into his light blue jeans, and of course, his tattoos flash across my vision too.
Why the hell do I even look there? It’s so close to his crotch…
Suddenly, he turns and catches me staring. Heat shoots up into my cheeks, and I squeeze the bag under my arm, heading quickly toward the house, trying to overcome the awkwardness when Lake calls after me,
"Summer, you coming down for dinner?"
I only shake my head slightly, too full of emotions to speak.
Over the last two days, I’ve sent so many too-obvious signals to Snow it’s really beyond my own comprehension. How must this look in his eyes? I’m making AO mating sounds, luring him with the nest, weaving his hoodie into it, staring at his crotch.
Mercy! Dammit!
Something strange is going on with me, and I need some distraction.
So, back in the room, I busy myself filling the aquarium with the water I brought from the store. I set it on the cabinet Snowcarried in, sliding it closer so it sits near the bed. I hook up the aeration and the lighting, then watch for a moment. Somehow, I already know the water shouldn’t be changed too abruptly; even the smallest difference in its makeup can harm the fish or damage the plants.
At last I let the fish into the tank. It finds its bearings immediately, recognizing its home.
For a long time I watch it glide along the glass, golden fins trailing behind like silk ribbons.
The sight makes me smile softly. It brings a strange calm, though only on the surface, because underneath I am still churning with unrest.
My behavior lately has been erratic and rather inappropriate. I need to come up with a plan, a way to control my madness, something methodical, calm, taking two steps back. Yes, definitely.
I go back to unpacking, putting my clothes in the closet and my toiletries in the bathroom.
Finally, everything’s done.
I lie flat on my back, head tilted to the side, staring at the aquarium. Watching the fish is hypnotic, and it sends my emotions drifting in strange directions. I close my eyes and try to steady them.
To do that, I push some of my energy inward, trying to smooth out my nervousness, flatten it out even, but as I do, it has a strange effect. My mind clears a little; the foggy veil grows thinner, less confusing…
And…
Then an unexpected memory breaks through.
A flashback starts.
