Page 42 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

“No, I’m not.”

The air throbs between us like a pulse, and we hold eachother’s gaze hostage. In the living room, the team claps for something, and itsnaps the thread between our eyes, freeing me to look away.

“I better…” He points his thumb over his shoulder and leavesthe kitchen.

I slump against the counter, my breath coming out in astream of forced air. What the heck? I’ve had boyfriends. Kissed guys. Gone allthe way a few times. Nothing to write home about. If anything, I made it out tobe more than it was when I told my friends because…surely there was supposed tobe more? More than fumbling hands and squishy lips andboozy breath and a guy getting his, but never thinking about mine. Besides notgetting me off—which I can do in my bed by myself—those guys didn’t touch me.Not with their clumsy, seeking hands, but in my heart. Shoot, in my soul. Theywere so worried about touching all the parts they got to see, they didn’tbother with the parts invisible to the naked eye. Those parts—theunder the skin, stirring in my chest, burning up my heart parts—Nazsomehow seemed to touch in a matter of glances, with a few words and a simplebrush of my fingers.

“You been watching too much Vampire Diaries,”I mutter, laughing at my own whimsical thoughts.

I know that’s television, fantasy, fiction, but if love ain’t epic, I don’t want it. If it ain’tlife and death—not literally, the way it is for Stefan, Damon, and Elena—but ifit’s not something that makes you risk, makes you ache, then why bother?

I’m scarfing down some coconut bread when the guys startbringing their paper plates into the kitchen and tossing them in the trash.

“You guys ready to take pictures?” Cliff asks. “Forposterity, I think is what they call it. The night before we shook up theworld.”

“Wow,” I mutter, tying off a bag of trash. “It’s a ballgame, not a revolution.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that.”

I glance up to find Naz standingbeside me.

“Oh. I just meant…well.” My words tangle up. “Just meantthat, um, you guys think the whole world revolves around that court.”

“I don’t.” He shrugs. “But it may be my best shot at a fullride for college, so it’s important, yeah.”

“How good are you?” I tease, smiling and leaning against theedge of the sink.

“Not as good as your brother, but who is?”

“Strongarm,” Cliff calls from the kitchen door, his glancepinging suspiciously between Naz and me. “We’re going up on the roof forpictures. Come on.”

“On the roof?” Naz frowns.

“My daddy made it a rooftop we could use for cookouts andstuff. It’s actually kind of cool.”

“And totally safe,” Mama says, entering just behind Cliff.

“Mama, can you come take some pictures of us?” Cliff asks.

“Get your sister to do it.” Mama shakes her head. “I spentmy whole day cooking all that food for you. Don’t ask me for another thing.”

Cliff rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and releases along-suffering sigh. “Will you do it, Tee?”

“Um, yeah.” I make sure not to look at Naz so Cliff won’tkick him out.

By the time we’ve climbed the steps to reach the roof, theguys are lined up in their sports jackets and ties. They’re all laughing. Thatsame sense of invincibility Cliff carries—he’s managed to imbue his team withit. They’re all so boisterous and cocksure, except Naz. It’s obvious to methese guys have been together for three years, and that Naz is still trying tofind his place. Even in the photos, there’s something that sets him apart,makes him seem alone even in the midst of boys dressedexactly the same.

I use Daddy’s camera and also takea few with my phone. After thirty minutes of them posing and me snapping, Istop.

“Cliff, I have enough pics for three championships,” I say.“We done?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He comes over and squeezes my shoulders,bending to kiss my forehead. “Thanks, Tee.”

He turns to his team and lifts his arms, releasing a shout.“That’s a wrap. Now take your ugly asses home and getsome sleep. Tomorrow will be here before you know it.”

I hang back, waiting for the roofto clear. When the last of their shrieks dies out, I grab the blanket from astorage bench, spread it on the cement floor, and sit. Between my parents andsiblings, and all of Cliff’s friends who are always at the house, it can get pretty crowded. It can be hard to think inall the noise. It can become impossible to dream, so I come up here everychance I get to be alone.

“Thanks again for taking the pictures.”