Present
Every time I walk into my old bedroom in my parents’ house, my instinct is to look out the window to the room across from mine, in the house next door—Paxton’s room. Even when I knew he wasn’t there, it was a hard habit to break.
Tonight though, for the first time in a long time, the light is on.
It’s a strange feeling knowing he’s back, just across the way. I hesitate to flip my light on so I can watch him. I stand in the darkness as his silhouette moves about his room, something I did many nights growing up. In a bizarre way, I realize now I kind of missed having him nearby.
Finally switching my light on, I close the door behind me and unzip my bag where it sits on the bed. I look around. Everything is exactly as it’s been since my seventeenth birthday when my parents let me redecorate. The walls are a pale blue. Sheer white curtains that are just thick enough to block my room from view hang over the one window I was just looking out of. The quilt on my bed matches the walls perfectly.
As I pull out my pajamas, my phone starts ringing. When I pick it up, I see it’s Richard’s face lighting up the screen.
Tapping the connect button, I put the phone to my ear, walking around my bed to the opposite side so I can close the curtains before pulling my jeans off. “Hey, sorry I haven’t had a chance to call you,” I say immediately. “Laney and I helped her mom put some things together for the get-together then I took a nap as soon as we finished getting things ready. I was exhausted from last night. How was your day?”
I stick one foot then the other into my polka dot pajama shorts then pull one arm out of my top at a time while Richard tells me about his day. Moving the phone away from my ear and hitting the speakerphone button, I quickly throw on my navy tank.
Picking the phone back up, I take it off speaker. “Well, that sounds like a good day.” I notice the light is off in Paxton's room, and for some reason, it makes me feel a little sad. “Uh…sorry, I’m just tired. Oh come on, Richard, don’t be that way. Of course I had a fantastic time at my party last night, and I loved the bracelet.” He sounds a little annoyed and keeps telling me I seem preoccupied. “My friend is home for the first time in ten years, give me a break…are you drunk?” I roll my eyes. He only acts irrational when he has been drinking, and it’s also the only time he acts like he cares about what I’m doing when we’re not together. “Look, let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired and want to go to bed. No, Richard…fine. Talk to you tomorrow. Good night.” I hang up the phone, relieved to end that conversation. I have less and less patience with him lately. Laney’s right—I’m definitely feeling like Richard and I are on different pages again.
Pulling the covers back, I start to slip into bed when I hear a knock, startling me. Then I hear my name coming from outside my window. Luckily, my parents now sleep with a white noise machine, so they sleep through anything. Where was that white noise machine during my teen years when I was trying to sneak in and out of the house?
I hear my name again with another soft knock.
I walk to the window, push back the light curtain, and bend to open the window. As I lean out, I come face to face with one Paxton Luke. “Pax?”
“Hey…uh…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over,” he stutters out, appearing uncharacteristically nervous—his voice is normally full of confidence. I don’t mean to smile, but I do. “You just smiled at me.” His voice sounds triumphant. “Great, I can go now, because that’s all I came over here for and you did it without any effort from me. Good night.” There’s laughter in his voice.
My heart goes pitter-pat at the sound of his deep, throaty laughter. I slap a hand against my chest right over the traitor and whisper, “Oh hell no you don’t.”
Paxton, of course, is still close enough to hear me. “No I don’t, what?”
“Not you, my…never mind.” Huffing out a sigh, I continue, “What did you really want, Paxton?”
He is silent a moment, moving closer to my window until we’re face to face. “Why do you hate me?”
I can’t do anything but stare at him. What the hell kind of question that? Why would he ask me that?
“Cass?” He actually sounds serious.
“It’s not that I hate you, per se,” I admit. “Kind of?”
“Huh, kind of?” he interrupts with a touch of sarcasm.
“I’m going to say this, and don’t interrupt me, okay?”
Nodding, he doesn’t say a word.
“I’m Laney’s friend, and you’re my best friend’s brother, one I’m friendly with even though most of the time you don’t deserve it. Trying to be your friend is one of the hardest damn things I’ve had to do. You’re bossy and nosy and you love to get under my skin. We fight constantly because you can’t seem to stop making it your mission to annoy me, and my hate for you…it’s not hate. It’s complicated.”
He’s so close, I can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste. His eyes never leave mine, and they look a little disappointed.
Finally, he speaks. “Don’t ask me why I asked or why I act the way I do with you. I can’t explain it. I’m not sure if I can or want to stop. It’s our thing.” He sighs. “I realized tonight that so much has changed, and I don’t really like it. The only thing that hasn’t changed is us—although, I did think you hated me.”
“I do,” I say without thinking. His eyebrows shoot up. “Well, I do. You infuriate me. You’re arrogant and push me until I can’t see straight. Like I said, it’s complicated, but I think we could try to be friends…maybe.”
Paxton slowly backs away and doesn’t say anything. The silence becomes so awkward, the need to fill the quiet begs me to say something.
“What are you doing?”
“Night, Cass,” he says before disappearing into the darkness that hangs between our houses.
“Good night, Paxton.”
I still really want to hate you. Damn my heart.