Page 37

There's something about a sunset that just takes my breath away. Maybe it's the colors. Or the fact that it symbolizes the end to a day. Whatever it is, I'm completely taken aback by the cotton candy swirls in the sky right now.

We're in the middle of the water gazing out at the scenery. No one's saying anything; the only sound comes from the whistling tones of the warm breeze overtaking the air.

"I don't want to, but I'm thinking we should head back," Nico's the first to finally speak up. "Before it gets dark."

"Yeah, probably a good idea," Brooks adds on.

We circle back to the dock and Nico and Brooks take care of squaring away the jet-skis.

"Now that that's done," Nico says once he's covered them with this black sheet, "what do you guys say we head to the theater for movie night?"

Oh, did I mention Nico has a movie theater in his house? And a bowling alley? Yup...rich people problems.

"So long as we're not stuck watching some sappy chick flick," Brooks remarks.

"Don't act like you weren't bawling your eyes out at the ending of The Notebook," Nico teases.

"I had something in my eye," Brooks lies.

"Oh, man. That's too good!" Remi laughs.

"I don't know, we should probably call it a night," I say. I don't mean to sound like a downer but I'm starting to feel my feelings for Nico resurface. As if they went anywhere to begin with.

But, seriously. Being out on the water with him, holding him...it intensified my emotions. Emotions that I'm trying to forget, to erase. Staying over for a few more hours won't help that.

"Really, BC? You're gonna leave me with Brooks? You have to stay." He looks at me intently. "Please."

I look at Remi, who appears uneasy. She subtly shrugs her shoulders, looking at me like 'well, what's it going to be?'

I cross my arms and let a deep breath out. "One movie," I give in and say.

"Alright," Nico claps his hands together and says with a smile on his face. "We'll even let you choose which one, BC."

***

"I'm leaving," Brooks says.

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Nico asks.

Brooks raises from the velvet couch and points to the massive screen that's plastered on Nico's wall. "I didn't agree to this shit. I'm not watching My Best Friend's Wedding."

"Sit your ass down, Brooks," Nico orders.

"What part of I'm not watching a chick flick didn't you understand?"

"My Best Friend's Wedding is a classic, Brooks," I tell him otherwise.

"So is The Godfather."

I pout my lips and tilt my chin at him. He's unbelievable.

"You deal with Brooks while I grab us some more popcorn," I tell Nico. "Rem, need anything from the kitchen?"

"Yeah, an Advil. Brooks' nagging is giving me a headache."

"You love me and you know it," Brooks tells her. "I felt you trying to grab my ass on the jet-ski."

Remi chuckles. "In your dreams."

"In yours," Brooks argues back.

"Will you two grow up?" I say.

"Need some help, BC?" Nico asks me when I stand up.

"Nah, I got it."

It's not that late, but Nico's house staff is gone for the day. I walk into the empty kitchen, then make my way to the pantry. While Nico's house is always empty, his pantry is always full. Gillian Bradford is a health-freak, so there's a nutritious version of pretty much everything that's not nutritious. Instead of potato chips, she has these weird veggie crisps. Instead of milk chocolate, she has dark. Instead of the buttery microwaveable popcorn, she has the air-popped kind with no taste. I reach for a bag of one of the tasteless popcorns, when I notice a box of Sour Patch Kids right behind it.

Nico.

I can't believe he still gets away with this.

Bella, Age 10 / Nico, Age 11

Nico's parents are away for two weeks, so he's been spending every day after camp at my house. We're on the couch, watching E.T., but I feel Nico staring at me every couple of minutes.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" I finally have the nerve to ask.

"I can't help it," he says, but I don't say anything back.

A few minutes later, Nico gets up from the couch and asks me if we have anything to eat.

"My mom makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches. I can tell her to make you one if you want," I offer.

"Not really feeling a sandwich. What kind of snacks do you have?"

"I don't know. Let's find out."

We make our way to the kitchen cabinet where Grandma Ruby keeps the good stuff. Cookies, chips, pretzels, candy. I reach for the box of Sour Patch Kids and hand it to Nico.

"Sour Patch Kids?" he reads the label in a curious tone and asks, "What are they?"

I look at him, shocked. "You don't know what Sour Patch Kids are? Do you live under a rock?"

"My mom doesn't keep this kind of stuff in the house, BC. She says it'll rot my teeth."

"Really? This is the only stuff that Grandma Ruby does keep in the house." I can tell that Nico wants to take the candy from my grip, but is holding back. "Take it!"

"I can't. My mom will be mad."

"Well then, it's a good thing that she's not here."

His jaw drops. "Who knew you were such the rebel, BC? That's usually my job."

"I don't mess around when it comes to Sour Patch Kids. They're my favorite candy." I hand him the box again. "Here. It'll be our little secret."

Nico finally takes the box from my grip, ripping open the sealed packet. He picks out only the blue and yellow ones and then throws them into his mouth.

"You know what, BC?" he looks over the box and says once he's swallowed the candy, "this might be my favorite candy, too."

Ever since that day, Sour Patch Kids has become Nico's go-to candy. At the movies. On a road trip. Just cause. If Gillian ever found out, she'd have a field-day, then yell at me for turning the snack onto Nico.

Growing up, Nico definitely had a rebellious side - he'd get into physical fights if provoked, throw iconic parties when his parents were away - but it was all overshadowed by his loyalty and gentleness. He wasn't the class-clown or the rule-breaker. To Nico, no meant no.

Because of his money and good looks, people automatically assume that Nico's some sort of entitled asshole. But that's because they haven't had the fortune of getting to know him. Underneath his appearance and the Bradford name, there's a kind-hearted, caring person that I'm lucky to call someone special in my life.

I reach for the box of candy that's been opened. It's almost empty.

"BC?" Nico calls out from the kitchen.

"In here," I shout, and he peeks his head through the crack. He comes to a stop in front of me and I hold out the box. "Guilty as charged."

He puts his palms up in the air like he's been caught red-handed. "It's our little secret, remember?" he repeats my infamous words to me.

I tip the box over and shake it. "It's practically empty," I chuckle. "What happened to you just liking the blue and yellow ones?"

"I still do. I give Brooks the other colors. Ever see him when he's hungry? He's a monster." I can't help but laugh at the accuracy of that comment, then Nico laughs at me laughing. "Have the rest. It's your favorite candy, too, after all."

I open the box and pour the rest of what's in there into the palm of my hand before tossing it into my mouth.

"Good?" he asks.

"Always."

Nico's watching me chew the candy with a smile on his face. Like he finds pure joy in watching me enjoy it. It's...endearing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask him.

"I can't help it," he says, this time repeating his own infamous words.

Being in Nico's presence right now, I find myself retreating back into fantasy land. It's this land that I created for myself when I was younger; a land that's safe and magical; a land where our love for one another is equal.

But in reality, it's not like that at all. My love for Nico overpowers anything and everything. And that's why I have to force myself out of this situation.

"We should head back to the theatre room," I say. "Brooks and Remi are probably wondering where we are."

Brooks and Remi could probably care less where we are, but I need a way out. I go to walk past Nico, but he lightly clutches my hand.

"Bella, wait," he says softly, both of our eyes looking down at where our hands touch. Then, he tilts his face up and looks at me. My breath hitches. I can't be the only one who feels this electricity. This can't just be in my head. I can't be the only one wanting it.

I gulp nervously, waiting for him to say something else. Anything else. But when I give him that chance and he doesn't take it, my assumption that maybe he's feeling what I'm feeling dissipates.

"No," I finally say. "I can't keep waiting for you, Nico."