I looked at my lackluster closet for an hour, trying to figure out something appropriate to wear. Chris has money, and I didn’t want to embarrass him if we went somewhere nice. In the end, I landed on charcoal-grey wide-leg pants—they have a stretchy waist, but they can pass for nice clothing—and a cream-colored short-sleeved bodysuit. A pair of deep-purple heels tops everything off.
“Umm, yeah. It’s … Wow, you look incredible.”
“Did I make the infallible Surfer Boy speechless?” I cock my hip and grin. I take a second to look at his dark wash jeans and blue long-sleeve button-up shirt—rolled up at the sleeves—that makes his eyes pop to an alarming level.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, you did.” His hand reaches behind his neck and rubs the area. “Wow. Okay, yes, you look perfect. Are you ready?” He’s rambling, and I absolutely love it.
“Do I get any hints?” I brush up against him as I close the door behind me.
“Uh, no … Nope. No hints.”
“You okay there, Chris?” I ask, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
The wall of muscle I brushed up against has my mind firmly focused on one thing, and one thing only.
“If by okay, you mean distracted as hell and wondering why I decided to do something outside of our apartments instead of staying in, then sure. I’m okay.”
We both laugh as he leads me to his fancy SUV.
“Then mission accomplished on my end.” I smile at him before he shuts my door and walks around the hood to the driver’s side.
The drive is long—we’re going into New York City—so we talk about everything and nothing. There’s no depth to the conversation, though, like we’re both treading water and afraid to get too deep. It’s all bullshit surface-level shit, but I’m honestly okay with that. I don’t need to know Chris better. I don’t need to know his deepest, darkest secrets. I just need him to get me close to Cano once. And maybe fuck me a couple of times.
As we near the center of the city, I get an eerie feeling in the pit of my gut.
No, it’s just a coincidence. There are a million things to do in the city. There’s zero chance we’re going there.
Then we pull into the parking area for the MET, and my stomach drops all the way to my feet. My breathing gets shallow, and my vision blurs.
How the fuck is this my life? Even when I’m trying to keep shit separated, it all intertwines into a mess of wires that I’ll never be able to unravel.
“Hey, you okay?” Chris’s voice is distant, and I can’t fully focus on it.
“Umm, no, but just give me a second.”
Flashes of the last time I really spent time with my brother run through my head like a horror movie.
We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but I had always loved the idea of the MET. So much history in one place. I had been wanting to go for most of my life, and Charlie surprised me with a trip for my birthday. It felt like the beginning of the end of life as I knew it, but I just didn’t know it then.
I blink, not realizing there are tears dripping down my cheeks until Chris gently wipes one away.
“I hit something with this. We can do something else,” he murmurs.
This moment, I make myself a promise. I’m going to walk through the MET and remember Charlie. I’m going to remember all the good times, the good memories of my brother and happier times. And then I’m going to shove it all into the box in my head and push it way down. I’ll take the next couple of hours to remember the girl I used to be.
Because Chris did hit something here, and I wasn’t prepared to face it. Hell, I’m not sure I am ever going to face it. Maybe I’ve just had a death sentence this whole time, not really living and hoping to join Charlie at the end of it all.
The cold realization makes my resolve even stronger.
I don’t want to just survive. I don’t want to just live long enough to take revenge.
I think I want more if I’m lucky enough to survive.
“I apologize. I wasn’t expecting to come here or my reaction to it.” I clear my throat.
“Nova, it’s fine. Don’t apologize for that.”
I physically flinch at the use of my fake name. This moment feels too sacred to be called Nova. I should be going back here as Claire, Charlie’s twin sister, remembering a time when we were together once more.
