“Uh, Jenna asked me to go to Omaha with her tomorrow, but I hadn’t responded yet. I can help you instead.”
His tone is strange, but I figure it’s probably just because he wasn’t expecting the question.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Okay. Great. We’ll have to package the painting, and then we’ll load it up and leave at nine. Sound good?”
Alex coughs a little and says, “Yeah, sure.”
And there are some other words exchanged between them as I sit there, but my brain dissociates a bit, and it’s not until several minutes later, I suspect, that Alex’s hand sets gently on my arm.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Hmm?” I look up, and he’s standing now, staring down at me with concern. His mom is nowhere to be seen. “Um, yeah. Sorry. I, uh... I’m tired, I guess.”
His expression turns soft, and his blue eyes seem to study me as he squeezes my arm.
“You can rest, if you want. I’ve gotta return an email that I forgot about earlier. Then, I dunno. I’m kinda tired too. Mom kept me busy all day cleaning.”
He steps back from me, pulling his hand away, and my stomach drops from the loss of contact. My earlier thoughts start to swirl around in my head as I watch him lift his hand up and run it through his hair with a sigh.
I look away and then push myself up to stand as well.
“Yeah, I should probably shower and change, then I might just crash. Today’s been—”
FUCK.
I grab the table with both hands, and I feel Alex step a little closer to me.
“Nico?”
I shake my head, unable to speak. And as I close my eyes, I see the words again.
Come get your shit, she texted.I’ll leave the box at the end of the driveway.
Had she really cleaned out my room? Gone through my things? Decided what I might want to keep and what wastrash?
I try to remember what else was in my room, whether there was anything I actually really need, but I can’t think straight. Which isprobably why I do the fucking stupidest thing possible. I pull out my phone, unlock it, open up my message app to my mom’s messages from earlier that day, and shove it over toward Alex without a word.
“What’s...” He takes the phone from me, and there’s a second or two of silence. Then he breathes a short, rough exhale. “Oh, shit. Nico, this is...”
Without finishing the thought, he sets my phone face down on the table and then he’s wrapping me up in this warm hug that’s just everything I need right now. I collapse into him, slipping my arms around his waist, and he holds me even tighter, murmuring quietly in my ear. I can’t really hear whatever it is he’s saying, but I feel the intent, like he’s surrounding me with this protective bubble and assuring me I’m safe.
I close my eyes and let myself break down against him, not even trying to pretend that I’m okay anymore.
Chapter Twelve
Alex
Theflimsycardboardboxsitting in the passenger seat of my mom’s truck is pitifully empty. I glanced in it when I picked it up a few minutes ago, and another quick look after I park back in the driveway at home shows that, yeah, there isn’t much there. Some clothes, a few books, and a phone charger or something. That’s it.
I wonder what his mom just threw out or didn’t bother packing for him.
I shut off the truck’s engine, but I don’t get out right away. Instead, my eyes drift up to the second-story window. Soft light peeks out from behind the shutters, and I wonder if Nico’s asleep yet.
Part of me hopes he is, because he looked so exhausted earlier. But then the selfish part of me hopes he’s just lying in bed, waiting for me to get back so we can, I dunno, talk or something.
