Page 15

Nell sipped the water Barrett had brought her, enjoying the album Paulie had put on before he passed out, followed by Dennis, then Toni.

Now, she and Barrett were the only ones still conscious, and the alcohol and weed had mellowed into a soft buzz.

Full circle.

Normally, she would have been passed out on her bed on hidden garage whiskey, but instead, she was quite comfortable on the soft, hugging cushions of Barrett’s couch after probably her best day in the past three months—a seemingly random day to be considered her best.

It was nice interacting with a group of humans who didn’t either coddle her in hypothetical bubble wrap or wish her a harsh and terrible future.

“I’m sorry our lessons were disrupted,” Barrett said, drinking some water of his own from a plastic bottle.

She didn’t think he was drunk at all tonight.

He had denied every single joint pass, and other than one beer, had drank only water and a New Coke.

“They’re douchebags, but they’re my douchebags. ”

Nell giggled and grinned. “I like them. I wish I’d known you guys were so fun.”

“We’ve always been fun. You just had to give us a chance.”

Nell smiled, sadly this time. She’d worried so much about things in high school—grades, her friends, and popularity.

Indeed, she’d never given Barrett and his friends a chance in high school.

Not only was she preached about the dangers of being around kids like him, but she’d had a reputation to uphold.

Associating with him in any way would have been damning.

Of course, she’d learned soon after how inconsequential popularity and grades were.

She hadn’t thought about it until now, but that had to be why she’d jumped on the offer to stay with them tonight. She was starved for a real, unhostile interaction with other human beings, short lived as it was.

“I should get going,” she said from her spot, because all good things come to an end.

She rose. So did Barrett.

“You sure? You can stay the night again.”

She glanced at the three guys passed out around the room. Each one had a pillow and blanket, administered by Barrett. None of them were capable of hearing or misinterpreting Barrett’s meaning by her “staying the night again”. She wondered if he had told them about it.

“I need to go. My parents freaked out last time.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Let me drive you—”

“No,” Nell said too quickly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “No. I prefer my bike. The night air is nice.”

“You can’t ride a bike in your condition.”

“I’ll walk it then.”

“Fine. At least let me walk with you. It’s too late for you to be alone.”

She glanced at the clock—half past midnight. At this rate, she’d be home no later than one. She already knew they’d be up and waiting for her by the door, pacing anxiously and wondering when was a good time to call the cops again. She shivered at the thought and rubbed her arm.

“It’s pretty far away,” she told him.

But he was already pulling shoes on by the front door. He smiled up at her, then stood straight. “That’s all the more reason not to let you go alone.”

* * *

It was the perfect night to walk home. The breeze was chilly enough to clear her head but nowhere freezing to death.

There weren’t any clouds in the sky, leaving it open and clear to see the Milky Way. She glanced up at it, grateful for the view. Plus, the full moon was bright enough that she could admire Barrett now and then when she traded the stars for a peek his way.

At first glance, he had the appearance of a psychologically embedded warning sign: shaggy rockstar hair, a denim jacket with pins and patches covering its stitches, and tattoos that would make her mother faint.

On a second, third, and fourth glance, however, she noticed new things.

The soft twinkle in his eye as he looked at the sky too. The light humming of an unfamiliar tune under his breath. The fact that he was pushing her bike so she wouldn’t be bothered.

For the first time, she had the stray thought that she was attracted to him.

Maybe she wasn’t totally sober yet.

“I can go the rest of the way from here,” she said and tried to take the bike from him, cutting her thoughts off at the roots.

He blocked her with his body. “Ah-ah. No can do. I said I would walk you home, and I meant I would walk you all the way, not halfway. I’m no quitter.”

“You know, you sound a lot like my friend Minnie.” She smiled at him and caught the moment he realized whom she was talking about.

He blanched and tensed.

She should know better than to bring up her friends. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no.” He stopped walking, and she was forced to do the same to stay next to him. “Don’t say sorry. If you want to tell me, I’m all ears.”

She bit her lip and studied him, looking for a sign of insincerity, though she’d done that several times before with him and not once had she seen any.

“Minnie . . . ” she tried again, testing the name on her tongue.

It’d been so long since she’d said it. Twice in one minute was like saying it for the first time again. Turned out, she did want to tell him because as she started, the words came crashing from her like they’d been waiting for an excuse to be said. She couldn’t stop them if she wanted to.

“She walked home with me once when my car broke down three miles from my house in the middle of the night. She did that for me even though her house was closer and in the opposite direction. This . . . You remind me of that right now.”

Nell could feel Barrett’s eyes on her face, but she kept hers ahead on the road—away from him, away from the sky. She couldn’t risk facing how pitied she was as the words kept coming.

“But she’s always doing things like that, you know?

Honestly, she’s got to be the nicest person I’ve ever known.

Just one of those people who is completely selfless, you know?

Everything she does is for other people.

” Her shoe scuffed on a pebble, and it scraped against the pavement as she finished speaking and there was a silence for several full seconds.

Barrett broke it. “My uncle Ron . . .”

Confused, Nell turned to him. Despite what she’d been worried about, she found no pity in his eyes, just an inkling of something she couldn’t recognize and a reminiscent glow. “That sounds like him. The most selfless person I know. Putting everyone else before himself.”

“You live with him, right?”

He nodded with a wry smile. “He put his single bachelor lifestyle on hold to raise an eight-year-old boy who wasn’t his responsibility.

He had a chance to move out of state for a new, high-paying job that would have him traveling around the world, but because I didn’t have parents anymore, he turned it down to raise me. He gave up a whole life for me.”

That silence was back, and Nell found herself smiling weakly at him. “You’re very lucky.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He smirked and tilted his head at her, attempting to lighten the mood.

“So is he.”

Barrett blinked, his grin slipping, and straightened. “What?”

“All things considered, he could have ended up with a much worse nephew. Instead, he got you. I’d say he lucked out.”

Barrett kept moving, but he might as well have frozen because his face had stilled in an unreadable expression, his chocolate eyes fixed on her face.

She tried her best to handle the intensity of his gaze, but after only a few seconds, it was too much, and she averted back to the road, now halfway up the hill up to her house.

She could make out the porch lights that were still on, indicating that her parents had left them on for her.

Nell cleared her throat and stopped moving. “My house is right there.” She pointed at it, and finally Barrett’s intense gaze left her to observe her home. “I should go alone from here.”

Given that they were close now, he didn’t put up a fight and transferred the hold of her bicycle to her.

She took the handlebars and smiled at Barrett. “Thanks for walking me.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “I promise next time, we’ll get through the entire lesson.”

He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and, with a final nod, turned to walk away.

Nell stayed put and watched him move farther away with each step. But she couldn’t bring herself to finish her way to her home. She frowned, feeling like she was missing something.

Before he got too far, she realized what it was.

“Barrett,” she called out, her voice echoing softly against the asphalt. “Thank you.”

He raised a questioning brow.

“For listening,” she clarified. “And for talking with me.”

He grinned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “My ears are always available. Just give me the word.” He winked, then spun on his heel and casually descended the hill.

Nell forced herself to move, leaning her bike against the side of the garage and working her way up the porch. She braced herself for her parents to be standing right inside the doorway, chewing their nails and worrying themselves sick.

But as she opened the front door, the area was silent. Save for the soft, warm light of a single lamp in the living room, the interior was dark.

She followed the light and found her father settled on the couch with a coffee mug in hand. He watched her enter and straightened, setting the mug down. In the dim lighting, she almost missed the guilty expression on his face.

She managed a peek inside his glass. Its contents were a clear amber color. Nothing like coffee.

“Where were you?” he asked, standing up so his body blocked her sight of his drink.

“I was at my friend’s house. Sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. Where’s Mom?”

“She was feeling unwell, so I made her go to bed. She’s barely slept the past few days.” He paused and inhaled sharply. “You smell like alcohol.”

Despite their differences, Nell was a lot like her dad. She’d inherited his light blonde hair and blue eyes. She even got his secret affinity for booze. “So do you.”

He knew she knew. He knew she was like him. He knew that he couldn’t say anything without them both being revealed, and if that happened, their characters would be slandered and their—his—community standing would be threatened.

“How did you get home?”

“I walked.”

“Alone?”

“With my friend,” she said and noticed his anxious expression. “Don’t worry. I was safe the whole way. And I’m here, aren’t I? I’m sorry for worrying you, but thank you for letting me go out. I had a good time.”

He relaxed, nodding. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Good night, Dad.” She turned, moving to walk away, but he stopped her first.

“You know we love you, right? We just want you to be safe.”

“I know,” she said, smiling. “I love you too.”

It was easy to understand their need to keep their china doll daughter in one piece, but at the same time, it was hard to understand why they couldn’t see her suffocating. But she couldn’t stand to break their hearts again, so she suffocated in silence.