My heart won’t fucking calm down.
I can still feel the weight of Bowen’s hand against the back of my neck. Still feel the ghost of his fingers brushing mine when he handed me a soda earlier. When he walked by and our fingers grazed each other. I can still see the way his shirt had risen just far enough to show a strip of skin above his waistband when he leaned on the porch rail. For some reason, that made me blush harder than when he was wearing no shirt at all in the water.
And I hate it.
And I love it.
And I wish it would stop.
And I hope it never does.
Buzz.
My phone lights up on the nightstand. I grab it fast, so it stops vibrating on the wood and doesn’t wake Brett, except Brett’s already awake, of course. Leaning over the side of the top bunk like a little goblin on a mission. I give him a weird look before checking his text.
Brett: hey
Brett: hey kat-boy
Brett: you alive or did my brother’s flirting finally kill you
I bury my face in the blanket, muffling a groan.
Me: disappear
Brett: RUDE
Brett: you know I’m right tho
Brett: bro looked like he was rubbing in some emotions earlier not just sunscreen
Brett: make ya feel it on the inside, ya know?
Me: brett
Me: I will smother you with your pillow. Shut up.
Brett: kinky.Maybe I'd like it
I kick the bunk above me, and Brett giggles.Giggles.
Outside, I can hear crickets. And the wind. And maybe a voice or two by the fire my parents were going to have. But inside my chest, it’s just a tight, aching thud-thud-thud that sounds suspiciously like someone’s name.
Brett climbs down from his bunk with all the grace of a baby giraffe, flops onto my bed without warning, and steals half the blanket.
He doesn’t say anything. Just lays there, staring at the bottom of his bed above us.
Then, softly, “He’s gonna get there. I think. He’s just…slow going. Not stupid.”
I turn my head to look at him, look at his blue eyes. They shine with so much more than his brothers. He doesn’t hide, doesn’t guard himself away. Brett is open and honest, and I love him for it. “Brett, he doesn’t feel the same way. It’s okay.”
He shrugs. “Maybe not. Or maybe just not yet. Or maybe he’s scared.”
“Scared of what? Me?”
He shrugs again. “Maybe he’s scared of ruining your friendship.”
I close my eyes and curl into my best friend.
