《I'd Give You Mine》


 Chapter One

    The hot air stuck between the skyscrapers of New York City hits me like a wall. It clogs my lungs and when I try to take a deep breath, the oxygen feels sticky in my mouth.


    During today''s eight hour shift, Stacy kept complaing about the airconditioning in the salon and I silently agreed with her. But now I think that it actually wasn''t so bad, compared to this.


    I ride the train back to the apartment I share with my brother, flexing my hands. They always hurt after a full day at Anne''s, callouses on my fingers from the scissors and razors.


    ?I''m home,¡° I shout, toeing off my shoes as soon as I close the door behind me.


    It''s a little cooler inside, but still too hot.


    ?I''ve cooked dinner,¡° Caden says, leaning against the kitchen counter as I enter.


    He always seems to fill up the whole tiny room, tall as he is. The shirt he''s wearing is hanging off his shoulders like it would off a rag. My baby brother is towering over me by a good couple of inches now, but his frame is still so skinny that it sometimes worries me.


    ?Mac''n Cheese?¡° I ask hopefully.


    ?Yeah. But we didn''t have real Maccaroni, so I took Penne instead.¡°


    I don''t mind the Penne. The glory of the meal is in the sauce, which is incredible as always.


    ?How was your day?¡° I ask.


    Like a parent and not the twenty-one-year-old I am. But I seldomly feel like twenty-one.


    ?Good,¡° Caden says, which is code for boring.


    Sometimes I wonder if he''d ever leave the house if he didn''t have to attend the lectures from time to time. Then I wonder if it bothers me that he doesn''t. I know it should.


    ?And yours? Any funny customers anecdotes?¡° my brother asks.


    I shake my head.


    ?Not really. Only another lady assuming you''re adopted.¡°


    Caden snickers and runs a hand through his frizzy curls. He tried for an afro when he was thirteen, even though I told him his hair was too soft for that. He didn''t listen until I finally set my foot down and cut it off before he''d have to start combing it to keep from looking like a stray dog.


    ?What did you say?¡° he asks, stealing a bite from my plate.


    ?That I fell into a bottle of bleach as a child.¡°


    He almost chokes on his food.


    ?Oh my God, I wish I could have seen her face.¡°


    I grin.


    ?It was pretty hilarious.¡°


    Not in that moment though. Despite being as used to it as one could ever be, I still don''t like it when people don''t believe that Caden is my brother.


    ?Leah?¡°


    ?Yeah?¡°


    I finish my plate and put it into the sink.


    I don''t like Caden''s tone.


    ?Mom called,¡° he says.


    I put my hair up in a messy bun, not looking at Caden.


    ?What did she want?¡°


    ?To have dinner,¡° Caden tells me.


    ?Okay. What did you say?¡°


    ?That I''d talk to you.¡°


    ?Hm.¡°


    ?So?¡°


    ?So what?¡°


    Caden taps on my shoulder.


    ?So, are we going to have dinner with mom?¡°


    I look up at him. It''s crazy, how tall he is. I''m not a short girl, but now he can easily rest his chin on my head.


    It used to be the other way around.


    ?Do you want to?¡°


    He tilts his head and shrugs. I already know the answer.


    ?I wouldn''t mind.¡°


    I could tell him to go alone.


    Maybe I will.


    ?Tell her I''m not sure yet if I can make it,¡° I say.


    My hair still wet from the shower when I open the door to Caden''s room.


    ?You''re going to be late,¡° I tell him.


    He''s still in bed and only groans in response.


    I roll my eyes, already annoyed at eight in the morning, and pull his covers away.


    ?Get up.¡°


    I''ve already chugged a cup of coffee and finished two slices of toast when Caden finally makes an entrance, still in his pants and a shirt.


    ?Is there any coffee left?¡° he asks and I frown at him.


    He knows I don''t like it when he drinks coffee. The look he throws me borders on a glare.


    Wordlessly, I hand him a cup and he pours himself some lukewarm coffee.


    ?Eighteen is old enough to set your own alarm,¡° I tell him.


    He wraps his hands around his cup. They''re big enough to make it disappear completely.


    ?I did. I just... fell asleep again.¡°


    ?Yeah, well ¨C don''t. I don''t want to have to wake you like a six-year-old.¡°


    ?Noted,¡° he says and gives me a smile that always gets me.


    ?I''ll be home before six,¡° I say.


    ?Okay. What am I going to tell mom about dinner?¡°


    I sigh.


    ?I don''t know yet.¡°


    ?Please come, Leah. She hasn''t seen you in forever.¡°


    That''s because I don''t want her to see me. Which he knows very well.


    ?For me?¡°


    Caden isn''t actually sweet. He just knows how to manipulate me.


    ?A puppy-look won''t convince me, Cades.¡°


    ?Are you sure?¡°


    I roll my eyes so hard that they must almost get stuck in my skull.


    ?Alright. Fine. I''ll go with you.¡°


    He grins widely.


    ?I''ll tell mom we''re going to dinner on Friday.¡°


    ?Sorry I''m late,¡° I say as I rush into Anne''s.


    ?It''s fine, sweetie. No one''s here yet.¡°


    Anne smiles at me. She''s a red-haired woman in her forties, wearing prominent glasses and lipstick that sometimes gets stuck on her teeth. I always have to tell her when it does.


    I set up my little desk and wipe the mirror, chatting with Anne about her kid. She has a little girl, first year of primary school. I''ve met her daughter once when Anne brought her to work.


    Even I, confessedly not a fan of children at all, had to admit that she''s a sweetheart.


    I get the day started with two regulars before I take a small break, chugging a glass of cool water and wiping the sweat off my forehead.


    ?You have a customer,¡° Brian says, sticking his head into our small staff room.


    ?I''ll be right there.¡°


    Reluctantly, I put my black apron back on. It''s another layer of clothing that makes me sweat even more, my shirt clinging to my back.


    ?This is Leah. She''s going to make you beautiful today,¡° Anne says to the girl that is apparently my next customer.


    The first thought coming to mind is that I''ve never seen someone that was in less need to be made beautiful by me.


    She''s one of those girls that makes you hate her just by existing.


    ?Hi. I''m Delilah,¡° she says and smiles at me, exposing a set of perfectly straight teeth.


    I shake her hand and try to smile back. I''m very aware of the sweat under my arms and I''m sure my face is shiny.


    I sit her down in my chair and look at her long strands of dark hair. She looks amazing with them. I''m not sure what she would want to change.


    ?What did you have in mind?¡° I ask her.


    ?I want it all off. Maybe a cute bob with some bangs,¡° she says, looking at herself in the mirror, smiling lightly.


    I take a lock of hair between my fingers. It''s thick and strong and she has a lot of hair.


    ?Alright. How short do you want it?¡°


    I''m always very specific on that question since I once had a girl break down in tears because I cut off one inch too many.


    ?Oh, just cut it how you think it''ll look best,¡° she says and smiles at me.


    Her eyliner is impeccable, even in the heat. I could never draw a wing that perfect.


    When she smiles, that wing almost disappears.


    ?Okay. I''d probably cut it about this length.¡°


    I show her in the mirror, and she nods.


    ?Yeah. Okay.¡°


    She hums when I wash her hair and closes her eyes. Most people like it.


    ?You''re really good at that,¡° she tells me.


    I swallow.


    ?It''s my job.¡°


    ?Well, you''re very good at your job.¡°


    ?Thank you.¡°


    I begin rinsing the shampoo, her hair almost black now.


    ?What do you do?¡° I ask.


    ?I''m a student,¡° she says. ?I actually just moved to New York.¡°


    ?How do you like it?¡° I ask her and she has to wait until I''ve wrapped her hair up in a towel before she can answer.


    ?I''m totally in love with the city. It''s all so loud and crowded and I get lost all the time.¡°


    I raise an eyebrow.


    ?And you like that?¡°


    She grins at me through the mirror. Somehow, even with a towel on her head, she manages to look good.


    ?I do. I like all the colors and the different languages and people.¡°


    ?New York is pretty diverse, that''s true.¡°


    ?How long have you been living here?¡° she asks as I comb her hair.


    ?All my life.¡°


    ?Really? That''s cool.¡°


    I''m not sure it is. I''d love to travel, but ¨C well. You need money for that.


    ?What is your favorite place in New York?¡° she asks me.


    I pause to think about it.


    ?Probably the public library, to be honest. Plus there is a really good Japanese restaurant I could eat at every night.¡°


    Delilah laughs. It''s a rough, but very feminine sound. The laugh of a girl who drinks pure vodka and paints her nails dark red.


    ?What''s yours?¡° I ask her, knowing how lame my answer was.


    ?I don''t really have one yet.¡°


    She blinks at me. I''ve already cut of half her hair.


    Her eyes are big and dark brown, framed by blackened lashes.


    ?Maybe you could show me around?¡° she asks me and I almost cut myself.


    How did we get from talking about Brooklyn''s library to her asking me to hang out?


    ?Oh. Sure,¡° I hear myself saying, even though I don''t actually want to.


    But before I can backpedal, Delilah smiles brightly.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ?Perfect. I''ll give you my number.¡°


    I don''t call Delilah.


    And I don''t think about calling her, either. Obviously.


    ?Are you ready?¡° Caden asks me, peering into my room.


    I''m busy fixing my eyeshadow.


    Honestly, I don''t know why I even bother. I don''t know why I''m getting all dressed up for my mother, of all people.


    Maybe just to show her how much better I am at adulting than she is.


    ?Let''s go,¡° I say and he gives me a look.


    ?I''ve been ready for half an hour.¡°


    ?That''s because you don''t get ready.¡°


    ?Whatever,¡° he says and we leave the apartment.


    The restaurant my mom picked is a diner with sticky tables and huge portion sizes.


    Of course it is.


    She''s wearing jeans and a blouse and just seeing her dressed like a Karen makes my blood boil. She''s not some mom from the suburbs. She doesn''t have two white kids and a dog and a husband that comes home from work to kiss her cheek.


    She''s not that at all.


    ?You look good, sweetheart,¡° she says and hugs my brother.


    When she hugs me, I go stiff like I always do.


    She smells like perfume and a tiny bit like smoke.


    ?How are you?¡° she asks as we''re all seated.


    Her make up can''t cover the new wrinkles in her face. Her lipstick is red and her eyes are quite clear, even though her face still seems a little red.


    ?Good. College is good,¡° Caden says and I hate how he smiles at her.


    ?And you, honey?¡°


    She''s looking at me now. A little warily, as always.


    ?Everything''s brilliant,¡° I say, aware how icy my voice sounds.


    Caden kicks my shin under the table.


    ?How is the salon?¡°


    ?Good,¡° I say. I feel like Caden and I don''t know how to say anything else.


    ?And how are you doing, mom?¡° Caden asks.


    ?Oh, I''m fine. I''ve finally unpacked the last cartons. The kitchen turned out quite lovely. You should come visit me sometimes,¡° she says and smiles at Caden because she doesn''t know how to properly smile at me anymore.


    She has moved into a new apartment a month ago. A smaller one than the old one. She says she likes it better there.


    I don''t think a new apartment makes any difference.


    We order food and awkward silence settles over the table.


    ?I''ve been thinking,¡° she says when our burgers arrive.


    Her voice is too bright.


    I look at her hands. They''re not shaking today, but that doesn''t have to mean anything.


    I pick up a fry. It''s greasy and salty and I know it''ll taste delicious.


    I also know I don''t want to eat a single one of them.


    ?Now that I sold the old apartment, I still have a considerable amount of money left. I wanted you guys to have it. Maybe you could use it to renovate your own apartment? Caden told me your tab keeps leaking. And I bet your walls could use some fresh paint too.¡°


    I throw Caden a death glare. He stares at his plate.


    ?No, thanks,¡° I say. ?We don''t need your money.¡°


    My mother deflates like a ballon that has just been popped with a needle.


    ?Are you sure? Because I don''t need it. I''d like you to have it.¡°


    I give her a smile that is so fake that it hurts my face.


    ?No, honestly. We''re fine. Thank you.¡°


    ?Okay,¡° she says, voice small, and picks at her fries.


    I go back to my own plate.


    I shouldn''t have come. It''s always like this when we see each other. Painful for everyone.


    We end dinner with the vague promise to visit her new place (which I fully intend not to keep) and then ride the train home.


    ?Why can''t you just be nice to her? Just for an hour or two,¡° Caden asks me when we''re back home.


    I throw my shoes into the corner.


    ?I just can''t, okay?¡°


    My mouth is dry and my palms a little sweaty.


    ?She''s trying really hard, you know?¡°


    I don''t respond.


    ?Just give her a chance, Leah.¡°


    I turn around to him.


    ?No, I''m not giving her a chance. She''s had enough chances, okay? No more.¡°


    Caden gives me a hard look, then coughs.


    I perk up.


    ?Do you have a cold?¡°


    I step closer, try to touch him, but he pushes me away.


    ?Leave it,¡° he says.


    ?For how long have you been coughing?¡° I ask.


    He laughs ¨C a bitter sound.


    ?Oh my God, I''m not in the mood for your crazy right now.¡°


    I flinch back as if he''d hit me.


    ?My crazy? What the hell, Caden?¡°


    ?I''ll go to my room,¡° he says and I can hear the door slam shut.


    He knows how much I hate that. The asshole fucking knows.


    ?Don''t slam the door!¡° I shout and he pretends he didn''t hear me.


    ?Everything okay?¡° Anne asks me when I come in to work on Saturday.


    Usually, I''m in a good mood on Saturdays ¨C my shift only lasts four hours and I start at ten, meaning I can almost sleep in.


    Today, I''m not in a good mood.


    ?It''s my mother,¡° I say and Anne pushes up her glasses, face softening.


    ?What did she do this time?¡° she asks and Brian comes over, setting the broom aside.


    ?Offered us money,¡° I say.


    Brian''s brows draw together, just a fraction.


    He''s not that tall, but broad and muscular, his blue eyes and strong jaw dreamy.


    He used to have a crush on me when I first started to work at Anne''s.


    After I rejected his offer for a date three times, he then went and got himself a nice girlfriend that sometimes visits him at the salon, her make up matching her skintone precisely and not a hair out of place.


    She must be straightening it though ¨C no black woman naturally has hair like that. So it means it''s probably rough to the touch.


    I stupidly cried into my pillow the night after Brian introduced her to me.


    ?Did you take it?¡° Brian asks me.


    I snort.


    ?Of course I didn''t.¡°


    Anne sighs a little.


    ?You know, there is no shame in allowing her to help you. She''s your mother, honey. It''s her job.¡°


    ?I don''t want anything from her,¡° I say through grit teeth.


    Anne and Brian know quite a bit about my fucked family. Not everything though. But enough to know how much it agitates me whenever I have to see her.


    ?How is she?¡° Brian asks, eyes calm.


    I shrug.


    ?She seems fine,¡° I have to admit. ?But you can''t always tell.¡°


    ?If you need anything, let me know,¡° Anne tells me and my throat is tight.


    ?Yeah. Thank you.¡°


    I have already had a business man, a mom not older than myself and a teenaged girl with tattoos on my chair when the doorbell tingles and Delilah walks in.


    I almost drop the scissor I was cleaning.


    She grins at me, fanning herself with a manicured hand.


    ?So hot out there,¡° she says and I can actually see her face glow with a thin layer of sweat.


    ?Already sick of your new haircut?¡° I ask her.


    I wouldn''t know why. It suits her.


    It suits her so well, I don''t even want to think about it.


    ?No, I love it,¡° she says and I know Anne is watching us.


    ?I just wanted to pop by to make sure you haven''t lost my number.¡°


    She winks at me.


    How can anyone be so sure of themselves?


    She seems like someone who just assumes everyone likes her. And, honestly, I bet she''s right.


    ?Oh. Yeah, well ¨C I was pretty busy,¡° I say and hope, hope to God that I''m not blushing.


    ?It''s fine. Are you busy tonight?¡°


    The whole shop seems to be listening.


    I stare at her wedges. Her toenails are painted in lilac.


    ?She''s free,¡° Anne says from behind the counter.


    Delilah beams.


    ?Perfect. When are you off?¡°


    ?Around four,¡° Anne supplies and I''ll have to have a serious conversation with my boss.


    ?Brilliant. I''ll pick you up at four then,¡° she says and before I can protest, she waves at me and leaves the shop.


    I turn to see both Brian and Anne smirking at me. Brian''s customer blinks at me from under the foils on his head.


    ?Really, Anne?¡°


    Before she can answer, Brian says:


    ?What''s wrong with you? She''s gorgeous. Why don''t you want to go out with her?¡°


    I cross my arms.


    ?Jesus fucking Christ, she doesn''t want to go out with me. She''s just looking for a friend to show her all the best clubs. And that''s not me.¡°


    ?Maybe,¡° Anne says. ?Or maybe she wants to go on a date with you.¡°


    ?She''s at least been very persistent,¡° Brian says and I really hate them.


    ?I don''t have time,¡° I say.


    Anne flaps her hand.


    ?Of course you have time. All you do is work and watch movies at home.¡°


    ?Don''t call me out like that,¡° I say and Brian laughs.


    ?It''ll be fun either way,¡° he then says to me.


    ?You don''t know that.¡°


    ?But I''m pretty sure.¡°


    I sigh and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.


    ?You two are the worst,¡° I tell them.


    Delilah is waiting for me outside the salon, smiling and attracting stares.


    In the midst of the faint smell of trash and sweat that has implemented itself over New York, she looks like she just fell out of a vampire love story. Her long legs are a little too pale for the unrelenting sun torturing us and her hair and eyes are so dark that it makes me think of Snow White.


    She''s wearing boots to her short skirt and I wonder if she knows that it outs her as a Not-New-Yorker. She''s trying too hard.


    ?There you are,¡° she says and I step forward.


    Sweat is glueing my shirt to my shoulder blades and I know my hair is limp.


    ?Where do you want to go?¡° I ask.


    She smiles at me. I bet she knows how pretty it looks. I bet she has a whole assortment of smiles filed away, picking out one that fits the occasion.


    Or maybe she just really smiles like that.


    ?You''re the guide, Leah.¡°


    I look at my Converse. They used to be white. Now they''re an ugly grayish color.


    ?Are you hungry?¡° I ask her.


    ?Starving.¡°


    ?Okay. Do you like Japanese?¡°


    ?You want to show me your favorite restaurant? That''s sweet,¡° she says and I stare at her for a moment too long.


    Sweet. I hate it when girls call me that. It usually means they are very, very straight.


    Not that I care if Delilah is straight or not.


    She seems to sense my disapproval, because she tugs at the hem of her skirt and sort of twists her torso in a swaying motion, like a little kid waiting to get some candy.


    ?I love Japanese food,¡° she says and I lead her to the place.


    Only when I enter with Delilah, I notice the faded paint on the walls, the scratched floor from too many pairs of shoes. The sticky menus.


    ?It''s nice. I like it,¡° she says, looking around when we sit down.


    I can''t tell if she''s being sincere.


    ?So, where are you from?¡° I ask her after we ordered our food.


    Delilah rests her weight on her forearms.


    ?I''m from Boston. But I''ve moved around a bit.¡°


    The waiter brings our drinks.


    I don''t miss the sideways glance he gives Delilah, that small flicker of his eyes.


    ?Why did you move to New York?¡°


    Delilah gives me a little grin.


    ?Because I dream big, of course.¡°


    ?Of what do you dream, then?¡°


    She does that little shoulder-shrug again, twisting her body a little.


    ?I want to become an actress,¡° she says, sparkle in her eyes.


    I say nothing.


    She gives me a look.


    ?You think I''m just one more crazy person, don''t you? One more wanna-be starlet that''ll end up moving back to their cozy home towns after roaming the citiy''s streets one night too many?¡°


    I blink.


    ?That was very dramatic.¡°


    She laughs.


    It''s not a particularly pretty laugh. It''s rough and sweet and as high-pitched as it is low-pitched.


    ?I''m a dramatic person.¡°


    ?At least you''re honest as well,¡° I say and she grins.


    ?What are your dreams, Leah?¡° she asks, then lifts her glass to her lips, eyes on me as she takes a sip.


    ?I don''t dream.¡°


    Delilah rolls her eyes. I can''t tell if her lashes truly are brilliant or if she''s just good with make up.


    ?Everyone dreams.¡°


    ?Okay, well ¨C I dream of having a dog some day.¡°


    ?What kind of dog? Like, a small one to carry that gives you hearing damage or a big one to cuddle that salivates on your couch?¡°


    I smile.


    ?I think something in the middle.¡°


    ?Like what?¡°


    ?Well, I was thinking about a cute mix. Maybe some Maltese, but bigger.¡°


    ?Maltese are the worst. They''re the biggest cowards and when you go for a walk with them, they''ll take an hour to sniff at every brick of stone they pass.¡°


    ?Did you have one at some point?¡°


    ?My mom did. The worst.¡°


    She takes another sip of her drink. The glass sports a lip-shaped lipstick stain at the rim.


    ?I like dogs,¡° I say and shrug.


    ?Dogs like me, but I don''t like dogs,¡° she says.


    I bet everyone likes her. She''s just that kind of person.


    Our food arrives and Delilah is well better with chopsticks than I am. One time though, she almost dunks her necklace in the bowl and I laugh at her.


    She narrows her eyes, devious grin on her lips and takes a big gulp from my coke, smudging my glass with lipstick.


    I tell myself I can taste her lipstick on my tongue.


    ?So, where are we going now?¡° she asks me, biting her lip and grinning.


    I think without her boots, we''d be the same height. I might even be an inch or so taller.


    ?I could show you around Williamsburg a little. I bet you''ll like that.¡°


    ?Oh, yes. Sounds great.¡°


    It''s not unbearably hot anymore and I can almost breathe again as I show her to Brooklyn''s most popular district.


    ?So many stairs,¡° Delilah muses, gazing at the house facades.


    I look at her and think she fits right in with those other rich kids playing tough. Thinking that if they throw on some black nailpolish and oversized denim, they''ll no longer be rich kids.


    People are looking at her and I wonder how it must feel to be drawing attention wherever you go.


    ?Look there,¡° she says and takes my wrist and I swallow. Her palms are a little sweaty.


    My skin is hot.


    We halt in front of some street musicians that are more than delighted to have Delilah''s attention.


    ?It''s so warm still,¡° she says when we leave the musicians again.


    ?Do you want something to cool off?¡° I ask her and she nods emphathetically.


    We buy overpriced milkshakes and Delilah obviously buys overpriced beverages almost every day and I usually hate people who do that, but somehow ¨C I can''t quite get annoyed at it when people means Delilah.


    ?Do you really like strawberry better than chocolate? I mean, can anyone actually prefer any other flavor over chocolate?¡° she asks me.


    We''re sitting on a low wall, the stone rough under our naked legs. I''ve put one foot up, arm slung around my knee, while the other leg is dangling down.


    Delilah has crossed her''s ¨C you''re not really allowed to sit any other way when wearing a skirt as short as her''s.


    Because no one knows she''s wearing panties and a woman showing her underwear isn''t at all okay and very disturbing, unlike when men are wearing jeans that keep sliding down until half their ass is exposed.


    I prove that to be true by thinking about what kind of panties Delilah might be wearing.


    ?Chocolate is overrated,¡° I tell her instead of asking her if she''s a girl for black lace.


    ?You''re overrated,¡° she says and takes a sip and I laugh.


    Before I can think of a good comeback, we''re approached by a guy.


    Or, Delilah is. He''s clearly only looking at her.


    ?Hey,¡° he says.


    She smiles at him, eyebrows slightly raised. I look at my milkshake.


    ?I saw you sitting there and I just had to tell you that you''re really pretty.¡°


    I keep looking at my milkshake.


    ?That''s sweet,¡° Delilah says.


    ?Yeah, so ¨C I was wondering if you want to go for drinks? I''d really love to get to know you.¡°


    He''d really love to get to know what kind of panties she''s wearing, he means.


    ?Well, I doubt my girlfriend would approve,¡° Delilah says and takes my hand.


    Both of our skin is a little damp. Her hand is smaller and softer than mine.


    The guy''s face is priceless.


    ?Oh. Yeah, then ¨C I mean, we could all go for drinks.¡°


    It might have been funny to watch how his brain is slowly registering all the new possibilities Delilah''s statement provides if it wasn''t so sad.


    ?I don''t think we can, sorry,¡° Delilah says.


    ?You sure? It''d be so much fun,¡° he says.


    I wonder if he thinks that smirk is sexy.


    ?No, thanks,¡° I say and he gives me a dark look.


    ?Whatever. Fine.¡°


    He keeps lingering.


    I stare at him until he''s uncomfortable ¨C if not as uncomfortable as most girls he approaches.


    ?Have a good night,¡° he says, meaning the opposite and finally leaves.


    ?Gross,¡° Delilah comments.


    She''s still holding my hand.


    ?Yeah.¡°


    I can feel the blood under her skin. I can feel her bones and some callouses.


    ?I often wonder if men simply can''t take a hint or if they just don''t want to.¡°


    ?Both,¡° I say.


    Delilah sighs.


    ?Probably.¡°


    She pulls her hand away and sips on her milkshake.


    ?Where are those callouses from?¡° I ask her and she looks at her own hand as if she''d have never seen it.


    ?Oh, they''re from my violin.¡°


    ?You play the violin?¡°


    ?I used to, when I was in highschool.¡°


    ?But not anymore?¡°


    She smiles at me and shakes her head.


    ?Not anymore.¡°


    I nod and tie my shoes new.


    ?Leah?¡°


    I look up.


    It''s starting to get dark.


    ?Yes?¡°


    ?Why aren''t you going to college?¡°


    I blink at her.


    ?Isn''t it rude to ask someone that?¡°


    Delilah shrugs.


    ?You tell me.¡°


    I look to the side.


    ?I feel like it might be rude.¡°


    ?Are you offended?¡°


    I look back at her.


    ?Not really.¡°


    ?Good.¡°


    She keeps looking at me and I tug at the heel of my converse.


    ?I don''t have the money. That''s why I work.¡°


    ?Okay. That makes sense, I guess. But what about student loans?¡° she asks.


    I give her a look.


    ?Student loans don''t usually pay your rent.¡°


    ?But -¡°


    ?My brother already has depts because of college. That''s enough.¡°


    ?How old is your brother?¡°


    ?Eighteen.¡°


    ?Do you love him?¡°


    I blink at her. What an odd question.


    ?Of course I love him.¡°


    Maybe the question isn''t that odd when I think about it. I''m the last person to say that blood is thicker than water.


    ?What does he major in?¡° she asks.


    ?English Literature. He wants to become an author. I mean, he doesn''t say that. But I know.¡°


    ?That''s awesome,¡° she says and smiles at me.


    ?Yeah. Caden is pretty awesome.¡°


    ?I wish I had siblings,¡° she says whistfully.


    ?You''re an only child?¡°


    ?That''s why I''m such a brat,¡° she says, smirking at me.


    I feel myself smile.


    ?I''ve already wondered.¡°


    We''re silent for a moment. Our milkshakes have melted and the stone under my butt must be wet from my sweat. It''s the most disgusting thing about summer.


    ?If you could do whatever you wanted, what would it be?¡° Delilah asks.


    I look at my nails.


    ?I don''t know.¡°


    ?Come on. I''m sure you have some idea,¡° she prompts, blinking at me.


    ?Something with a lot of science,¡° I say after a while.


    ?Oh God, you''re a nerd.¡°


    She grins at me.


    ?That''s hot,¡° she says and I snort loudly.


    ?Yeah. Super hot. You want me to talk physics to you? Or is chemics more your thing?¡°


    Delilah leans forward, propping her chin up on her hand, elbow digging into her thigh.


    ?Tell me more,¡° she says and I have to fight the laughter.


    ?Well,¡° I lean in closer and she pretends to be captivated. ?Did you know that a planet''s period of circulation is independent from its mass?¡°


    ?Fascinating,¡° she breathes and I widen my eyes a little bit and lower my voice to almost a whisper.


    ?And did you know that the entropy of the universe keeps increasing, which means that eventually, the whole universe will die?¡°


    ?Why is that?¡°


    ?Because the universe is drawn to chaos and entropy is defined by heat and there is only so much that can happen until everything collapses.¡°


    ?Scary. Tell me something beautiful instead.¡°


    I think for a moment.


    ?There is a certain point at which water is liquid, solid and gaseous at the same time. One tap against the glass and water turns to ice.¡°


    Delilah smiles.


    ?You''re so sexy. An ice witch.¡°


    Blood is rushing into my face and I start laughing. She joins me and draws back and I draw back and now we''re not talking physics anymore.


    ?You really do love science, don''t you?¡° she asks, smiling at me.


    ?I guess. I''ve always been good at it.¡°


    I do love it. I just don''t like to think about loving it.


    ?I haven''t. I''m the girl that felt stupid in every single class.¡°


    I glance at her.


    ?You''re not stupid.¡°


    ?I''m bad at science.¡°


    ?That''s not the same as being stupid.¡°


    She smiles at me. Dirt is sticking to the back of her thighs.


    ?So, are you planning to stay in New York or will you move to Hollywood as soon as you''re discovered?¡° I ask her, redoing my ponytail.


    She leans back onto her hands, stomach rising and falling with every breath.


    ?I mean, if they want me to move to Hollywood, I guess I could be convinced.¡°


    She turns her head to me, skin a strange tone in the artificial lights of the night.


    ?Do you want to drink with me?¡°


    I put my leg down.


    ?I don''t usually drink,¡° I say.


    ?Is today usually?¡°


    I hesitate.


    ?Yes.¡°


    She sighs.


    ?Okay.¡°


    We sit in silence and I think about the tanline on her shoulders.


    ?I think I have to go home,¡° I say.


    ?Really?¡°


    ?I should have been home three hours ago.¡°


    Delilah smiles.


    ?I don''t think you should have.¡°


    ?Maybe.¡°


    I avoid her gaze.


    ?Where do you live?¡° I ask her.


    ?In the dorms.¡°


    ?So how do you get there?¡°


    ?I''ll catch a cab, I think. You?¡°


    ?Oh, I''ll just ¨C walk.¡°


    ?Okay.¡°


    We look at each other for a moment.


    Then she starts smiling, lifting one eyebrow a little.


    ?So, will you pretend to have lost my number again?¡°


    I shrug. I know I''m smiling. Just a little.


    ?Not sure yet.¡°


    She laughs. I wonder if she smokes or if her voice just is like that.


    ?I can''t wait to find out,¡° she says and my chest is pumping too hard.


    I think of Caden.


    ?I really should get home.¡°


    ?Yeah, I know.¡°


    We smile at each other.


    I never know how to say goodbye to strangers. Even though it doesn''t really feel like she is one.


    ?I hope you''ll find my number,¡° she says and I just nod.


    We get up from the wall and my legs are prickling, half-asleep.


    ?Have a good night,¡° I say.


    ?You too, Leah.¡°

 Chapter Two

    I wake up to the smell of cinnamon, sugar and eggs.


    When I pad into the kitchen, I find Caden making French toast.


    ?Morning,¡° he says and I check the clock. It''s already past ten AM ¨C way later than I usually get up.


    ?Hi,¡° I say and take a peak into the pan.


    ?You''re making breakfast.¡°


    ?Yeah.¡°


    I get two plates and he serves the toast. My brother has always been the better cook out of the two of us.


    ?You were out last night?¡° he asks, shoveling food into his mouth.


    ?Yeah.¡°


    ?With?¡°


    He has this gleam in his eyes.


    ?You don''t know her.¡°


    ?Like a date?¡°


    ?No. Not like a date,¡° I say and then wonder.


    If in doubt, it''s not a date. But ¨C well, I''m in doubt.


    ?Okay,¡° Caden says, blinking at me.


    ?Do you want to watch some movies today?¡° I ask him.


    ?I actually made plans with a friend.¡°


    I frown.


    ?What friend? What plans did you make?¡°


    Caden''s mouth gets a fraction smaller.


    ?You don''t know him,¡° he says and I hate when he''s flipping the table on me like that.


    ?Then tell me about him.¡°


    Caden gives me a look. A look I know well and absolutely despise.


    ?He''s just someone from college. We have almost all classes together.¡°


    ?What''s his name?¡°


    ?Alex.¡°


    ?And what are your plans?¡°


    ?Can you stop?¡°


    He puts his fork down.


    ?I''m just asking.¡°


    ?Yeah, well ¨C stop.¡°


    My eyes narrow.


    ?How''s your cough?¡°


    He scoots back on his chair, jaw set. Not looking at me.


    ?Fine. My cough is fine, Leah.¡°


    With that, he gets up.


    ?When will you be back?¡° I shout after him.


    He pretends he didn''t hear me.


    I call Delilah when I''m sitting alone in my apartment on a Monday evening.


    ?You found it,¡° she says and I don''t know why I''m smiling.


    ?Apparently.¡°


    ?Cool. How are you?¡°


    I look at a loose thread in the couch cushion.


    ?Good. And you?¡°


    ?Me too. Why aren''t you working?¡°


    ?I''m off on Mondays.¡°


    ?That''s cool.¡°


    ?What are you doing? Are you at college?¡°


    There is a very short pause.


    ?No. I was just about to head to a coffee shop. Work on some applications. Do you want to join me?¡°


    My heart stutters. I press my hand against my sternum.


    It''s a genetic thing, afterall. Maybe I should be worried.


    ?I don''t really have anything to do at a coffee shop,¡° I say.


    I work and when I don''t work, I''m at home. Watching movies with my brother.


    ?I''m sure you can come up with something,¡° she says, putting on that flirty voice of hers.


    ?I mean ¨C I suppose.¡°


    ?Brilliant. I''ll text you the address.¡°


    I''m not a coffee shop girl.


    Maybe I would be if paying rent wouldn''t hurt so much every single month.


    ?I''m buying,¡° Delilah says as I''m scanning the menu for the cheapest beverage.


    Of course, she picked out one of those modern places. All chic and cool and expensive as hell.


    ?Oh, no. I''ll buy my own.¡°


    She smiles at me.


    ?I want to treat you,¡° she says and her fingers curl around my wrist, push my hand holding the wallet down.


    ?What would you like?¡°


    ?Just coffee.¡°


    ?Black?¡°


    I nod. Delilah smiles at the barista and orders sugar with milk (disguising itself as coffee) and a black coffee for me. And cake.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Delilah drinks milkshakes and eats cake. I was tending toward assuming that she''s one of the skinny-latt¨¦, salad-without-dressing and skipping-breakfast kind of people.


    But she''s not.


    Probably just awesome genetics then.


    Though it''s not like Delilah would be thin, come to think about it ¨C not really. She''s just stunning.


    ?Is that a sketchbook?¡° she asks me as we sit down on light-wooded tables.


    I nod.


    ?So you''re an artist?¡°


    ?No. I just sometimes draw to unwind.¡°


    I used to draw a lot, back in highschool. But I don''t really do it anymore.


    ?Can I see?¡°


    ?It''s nothing special.¡°


    I let her flip through the pages.


    ?Okay, your favorite animals are definitely birds,¡° she says, smiling.


    My mouth is a little dry.


    ?I just like drawing them.¡°


    ?Hm.¡°


    She hands me my sketchbook back.


    ?Those are really good. I love the details.¡°


    ?Thank you.¡°


    She gives me a smile and then pushes the coffee and cake toward me.


    Maybe it should be strange how relaxed I feel working next to her ¨C sharing cake with her. I''m not very used to feeling relaxed around people. I''m relaxed around Caden and Anne and that''s about it.


    ?What are you drawing?¡° Delilah asks me when the cake is finished.


    ?A house,¡° I say.


    She peers at the paper.


    ?Wow. That''s cool.¡°


    ?It''s just a house.¡°


    ?A cool house.¡°


    It seems like she''s done with her application because she closes her laptop. But she doesn''t make a move to leave, so I don''t either.


    ?Do you miss Boston?¡° I ask her.


    She shrugs.


    ?Not much. I like New York.¡°


    ?What about your friends?¡°


    Delilah dodges the question with a light shrug and a: ?They''re fine. We''re texting. What about your friends?¡°


    ?What do you mean?¡°


    ?Tell me about them.¡°


    She looks at me and I notice the very faint trace of golden eyeliner she''s wearing.


    ?I don''t really have friends,¡° I say.


    Maybe that was stupid. I don''t want her to think I''m weird ¨C even though I am.


    ?I don''t believe that.¡°


    I shrug.


    ?My best friend is my brother. And then there are my coworkers. That''s it.¡°


    She frowns.


    ?What about your friends from highschool?¡°


    I trace the handle of my mug.


    ?I don''t know. We kind of... grew apart after highschool.¡°


    Delilah just keeps looking and I hear myself continuing.


    ?I was ¨C quite the rebel, in highschool. Completely different. You wouldn''t recognize me.¡°


    She smiles with half of her mouth.


    ?What were you like?¡°


    ?I''d wear high boots and ripped denim jackets. I cut my hair once. And dyed it black.¡°


    Delilah laughs and I can see she''s trying to picture it.


    ?Do you have a photo?¡° she asks.


    My eyes widen and I shake my head.


    ?Nope, I definitely do not.¡°


    ?Pity,¡° she says.


    ?Anyway, I was mostly hanging with the other outsiders and we weren''t ¨C we were just convienient to each other.¡°


    I think about how no one was ever really there when it mattered.


    ?I wasn''t sad to lose them after gradutaion,¡° I finally say.


    Delilah blinks.


    ?Friends can be real assholes,¡° she says.


    ?That''s true.¡°


    I''m a little shocked I just told her all that.


    ?Good thing we''re friends now,¡° she says, grinning at me.


    I blink. My heart stumbles again. My stomach ¨C it feels like it would try to perform a backflip.


    ?I''ve only known you for two days, really.¡°


    ?Three days.¡°


    ?Fine.¡°


    ?I need friends here,¡° she says.


    ?Asshole friends?¡°


    ?Are you an asshole?¡°


    ?Totally,¡° I say seriously.


    Delilah laughs loudly. I can''t help but stare at her.


    ?Me too,¡° she says.


    When I get home, I find Caden asleep on the couch.


    It''s five PM.


    I stand there looking at him for a minute or so, then go to my room to change into sweats.


    Caden doesn''t wake while I''m cooking dinner. When I''m done, I shake his shoulder. It takes me a while to wake him up.


    ?Dinner''s ready,¡° I tell him and he blinks up at me, apparently trying to find back to reality.


    ?Oh. Thanks,¡° he says.


    Then he coughs.


    I swallow.


    ?It''s just soup,¡° I say.


    We''re eating together and I ask about Alex, his new friend. The friend I''ve never even seen.


    I know I should be glad that Caden is trying to be social again. Since Adrian left, there wasn''t really anyone.


    I never told Caden, but I think Adrian is the best thing that has ever happened to him. He was around so often, even I miss him.


    Even though I''ve always been jealous of them.


    I used to watch them laughing together on the couch or sharing a look at the dinner table and there was this tiny twist in my stomach.


    Whenever Caden casually mentioned Adrian in a conversation about ¨C anything, really, I tried not to listen too closely.


    It''s not easy watching such a bond and having to realize that you have nothing of the sort. Not even close.


    ?You seem tired,¡° I say.


    Caden doesn''t look at me.


    ?Classes were hard today.¡°


    ?I think we should go have a check-up.¡°


    Caden grits his teeth and looks to the side.


    ?That''s not necessary.¡°


    ?I''d feel better.¡°


    He gives me a look. His eyes are huge and dark and his lashes gorgeous. I wonder why I didn''t get those.


    ?Leah, I don''t need to go to the doctor, okay? Everything''s fine.¡°


    ?Are you sure?¡°


    ?Oh my God. Yes. I''m fine.¡°


    I drop my spoon and stare at him.


    ?I don''t believe you.¡°


    He takes a deep breath.


    Then he reaches for my hand and squeezes it.


    ?Stop worrying about me so much, Leah. I hate it.¡°


    ?Someone has to,¡° I say.


    He shakes his head.


    ?No one has to. Life is good. I''ve met a new friend. You''ve met a new friend. Everything''s okay.¡°


    He smiles at me and I don''t think I can describe the effect of one of his smiles. I''m not sure if it''s Caden or the fact that he is my baby brother, but when he smiles like that, I always cave.


    ?Alright,¡° I say. ?But you tell me when something''s not right. Understand?¡°


    He grins and solemnly nods.


    ?Will do.¡°


    ?So that''s your home,¡° Delilah says, already looking around as she''s setting foot over my doorstep.


    I nod, having a hard time to keep my hands still.


    Delilah is wearing short-shorts and not a lot of make up and she''s standing in my apartment.


    I wonder if this was a mistake ¨C to invite her here. But it was her who asked and I didn''t want to say no.


    Maybe part of me wants her here.


    ?Where''s your brother?¡° she asks.


    ?With his friend.¡°


    She runs her fingers over my kitchen table. Her nails are painted in a girly ros¨¦.


    ?Are you hungry?¡° I ask.


    I don''t know her schedule, but she strikes me as a girl that wouldn''t have already eaten breakfast at eleven on a Sunday morning.


    ?I could eat,¡° she says and smiles at me.


    ?Sweet or savory?¡°


    She gives me a look.


    ?Always sweet.¡°


    I rummage through the pantry, hoping I have everything I need for pancakes and feel her presence like something palpable.


    ?For how long have you lived here?¡°


    She hops on the counter, long legs dangling down, hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward.


    ?I''ve had this for three years now. My brother moved in with me when he started college last fall,¡° I say, mixing the batter.


    ?I like it,¡° she says.


    ?Me too.¡°


    It''s not the best and the tabs might be leaking, but it''s mine.


    ?I have bananas. If you''d like some with your pancakes,¡° I say.


    Delilah smiles at me and nudges my leg with her foot. I almost drop the spatula.


    ?Yes, I''d like some,¡° she says. ?You sound very sophisticated.¡°


    I glance at her sideways.


    ?For a hairdresser, you mean?¡°


    She bites her lip.


    ?You like maple syrup?¡° I ask before she can start defending herself.


    ?Please.¡°


    When I start baking the pancakes, Delilah slides down from the counter and comes up behind me, one hand on my shoulder.


    ?Looks good,¡° she says.


    I can feel her breath on my ear.


    ?Do you cook?¡° I ask her.


    ?No, not really. Not at all.¡°


    I smile. It would have really surprised me if she did.


    ?What? You think I''m a spoiled brat?¡°


    There is laughter in her voice, just a little.


    ?Kind of?¡°


    She laughs and puts her hand on my shoulder again.


    ?Well, I am.¡°


    We eat the pancakes on my couch and I ask Delilah about acting school and the way her face lights up when she talks about it has me forgetting my pancakes. They''re cold when I remember to pick up my fork again.


    ?Do you sing too?¡° I ask her.


    Delilah smiles.


    ?I do. And dance. I''m the perfect allrounder, Leah.¡°


    ?Impressive,¡° I say and make it sound ironic, even though it''s not.


    ?Do you sing?¡°


    ?I do not sing.¡°


    ?You can''t or you don''t?¡°


    ?I don''t.¡°


    ?That''s a lie.¡°


    She grins at me and steals a piece of banana from my plate. As if we''d be best friends. As if she''d known me forever.


    ?Okay, sometimes I do. But only when I''m alone.¡°


    ?Shower or car?¡°


    There is a little bit of maple syrup stuck to her bottom lip. I can''t quite look away.


    ?Both. I don''t drive very often. Do you have a car?¡°


    ?Not in New York,¡° she says and finishes her pancakes.


    I wonder how rich she is. I know she''s rich, but I''m starting to think she might be really rich.


    ?What do you think of some Netflix and Chill?¡° she asks me and I pause for a moment.


    She probably doesn''t mean it like that. Probably just joking.


    ?Sure.¡°


    I thought Delilah would most likely love romantic movies, maybe some highschool series. I took her for a Legally Blond girl.


    But it turns out that she actually loves mystery ¨C like I do.


    ?You don''t like romance?¡° I ask her after the third episode.


    We''re lying next to each other on our stomachs, her shoulder and hip touching mine.


    ?Sometimes I do. I love Sex and the City. But not always.¡°


    She smells like sugar and roses and something sharp. I find myself leaning closer, my nose almost brushing her hair.


    I think she smiles.


    ?Another one?¡° she asks and I nod, already drawn back again.


    We''re in the middle of the episode when my phone rings.


    I blink, disoriented in the dark. It''s so late already.


    ?Hello?¡°


    ?Miss Jones?¡°


    ?Yes?¡°


    It''s the hospital.


    I''m up before they''ve hung up and Delilah blinks at me, irritated.


    ?Everything okay?¡° she asks.


    ?My brother''s in the hospital.¡°

 Chapter Three

    Delilah wants to come with me and at first I don''t want her to, but then I''m too rushed to argue and so we take a cab to the hospital together.


    ?It was just a panic attack,¡° I tell her and myself.


    I need to calm down.


    It''s not good, but it''s not bad. Panic attacks are common. They don''t usually kill people.


    Everyone can get them.


    Still.


    ?It''s room 242,¡° the receptionist tells me and I hurry to the lift, Delilah on my heels.


    The air in hospitals is always pregnant with disinfectants and the general smell of illness. I''m very used to it, yet I absolutely despise it.


    ?I''ll wait here for you,¡° Delilah says as we reach the right floor.


    ?Yeah, okay.¡°


    She nods at me and I rush to the room, carefully pushing the door open.


    Caden is almost swallowed by the white blanket. He seems drowsy, but awake. They probably pumped him full with tranquilizers.


    ?Hey,¡° I say and he blinks at me.


    ?Hi.¡°


    I sit down on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. It''s large, but the bones seem so fragile. I can feel his veines under the dry skin.


    ?How are you feeling?¡°


    He blinks.


    ?Tired.¡°


    I reach up and stroke his hair. It''s so soft. It looks like it would be frizzy and dry, but it''s so, so soft. I remember countless nights when he was a little boy and I''d pet his hair, waiting for him to fall asleep.


    ?What happened, Cades?¡°


    He casts his eyes down.


    ?Panic attack.¡°


    ?Yes, they told me. But... was there a trigger? You haven''t had one in years.¡°


    He used to, when he hit puberty and our mother hit another low and I was sleeping at my friends'' places more often than at home.


    ?Nothing. It just ¨C I don''t know.¡°


    I don''t think he''s telling me the truth.


    ?Caden.¡°


    I make my voice stern.


    He meets my eyes, calm and defiant.


    ?It''s alright, Leah. I just freaked out. There was no reason.¡°


    ?You don''t just freak out for no reason.¡°


    ?Sometimes you do.¡°


    ?Talk to me.¡°


    I run my fingers over his head again.


    ?I was just out with Alex. I had a drink. It was a mistake.¡°


    My lips press together.


    ?You''re not supposed to be drinking.¡°


    ?Yeah, I know.¡°


    ?Was that the first time?¡°


    He looks away. I pull my hand back.


    ?Caden, what the fuck?¡°


    ?I''m sorry, okay?¡°


    ?That won''t fix it. What where you thinking?¡°


    He pushes his head back into the pillow, staring at the ceiling.


    ?I just wanted to have some fun. Won''t happen again.¡°


    ?You can''t drink. Did you take anything else?¡°


    If I don''t watch out, I''ll lose it. I''ll start screaming at him and there is nothing in the world Caden hates more. He doesn''t talk to me for days whenever I do.


    ?No, of course not.¡°


    We''re silent.


    I take some deep breaths. This is not the time for a fight.


    ?They said I can take you home today. Do you want to sleep a little before I do?¡°


    He nods.


    ?Yeah. They gave me some pills.¡°


    ?Okay. I''ll be back.¡°


    He nods again and I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.


    Before I go, I press a kiss to his forehead.


    ?Is he okay?¡°


    Delilah is waiting for me with a cup of coffee in her hand.


    ?Yes. Isn''t it a little late for coffee?¡°


    She shrugs.


    ?I was anxious.¡°


    I don''t point out that coffee isn''t the best idea when you''re anxious.


    ?Thanks for waiting,¡° I say.


    ?No problem. I''m just glad he is okay.¡°


    I nod and something in my face must show how shaken I am, because her brows draw together a little bit and she says:


    ?It''ll be fine.¡°


    When she opens her arms and draws me close, I don''t even think about it. I rest my chin on her shoulder and close my eyes for a moment.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Delilah doesn''t hug half-heartedly. She wraps her arms tightly around me and holds on.


    Not many people hug like that.


    I almost tear up. I refuse to think about how long it''s been someone held me.


    ?You okay?¡° she whispers and I nod, finally detangling myself from her.


    ?Yeah. It was just a shock.¡°


    ?Do you need anything?¡° she asks, her dark eyes big and open.


    ?No, I''m ¨C it''s okay. But thank you.¡°


    She smiles at me.


    ?Anytime.¡°


    When Caden and I get home on Monday morning, he goes straight back to bed.


    I try to stay awake, peering into his room every ten minutes, but when I find him sound asleep for the third time, I can''t fight my own fatigue anymore and fall into my bed without even undressing.


    I wake up to a text from Delilah, asking me if we''re okay. I text back quickly and then head to the bathroom. It''s five PM when I''ve showered and made my way into the kitchen.


    Caden is sitting on the couch, watching some stupid reality show on our old TV and eating cereal.


    ?How are you doing?¡°


    He gives me a brief look.


    ?Fine. You?¡°


    I roll my eyes.


    ?Fine.¡°


    I sit down next to him, one leg tucked under.


    ?Do you want to order pizza?¡° he asks me, eyes still on the screen.


    ?Sure. Sound good.¡°


    I lean my head against his shoulder. He puts his almost empty bowl away and drapes one skinny arm around me.


    ?How are things with Delilah?¡° Anne asks me when I come into work the next day.


    After waking up at five in the evening on Monday, I naturally couldn''t fall asleep until the early morning, so now I''m standing here half-asleep, clinging to a huge cup of coffee.


    ?There are no things with Delilah.¡°


    Anne peers at me over her glasses. She''s wearing red lipstick today.


    ?Really? So you haven''t seen her again?¡°


    I put my cup down and start sifting through my desk.


    ?I mean, yeah. I have. But not like that.¡°


    ?Oh. What a pity.¡°


    It stings how disappointed Anne sounds.


    ?So you''re friends now?¡° Brian chimes in, a huge pair of scissors in his right.


    ?I don''t know, Brian. I''ve only known her for, like, ten days or so.¡°


    ?But you''re not dating?¡°


    ?I don''t think so. How would I know?¡°


    I''m not sure I want to talk about Delilah. I''m not sure if I''d rather talk about Caden instead.


    He''s still hanging out with Alex. I kind of wish he wasn''t.


    ?Sounds crazy, I know, but you could just ask her,¡° Brian supplies.


    I give him my best death stare.


    ?Sure. I''ll just ask her over coffee, by the way ¨C are you into girls?¡°


    When I say it out loud...


    ?I mean, yeah. Why not?¡°


    ?Because ¨C it''s awkward if she isn''t. She''ll think I''m into her.¡°


    ?But aren''t you?¡° Anne asks.


    I look at my favorite razor.


    ?No, I''m not.¡°


    ?Sure,¡° Brian mutters under his breath.


    ?I don''t want a relationship. You guys know that.¡°


    ?But why not? She seems sweet,¡° Anne says.


    ?You don''t know her at all.¡°


    ?You could though,¡° Brian chimes in and I just shake my head.


    ?We''re done with this conversation.¡°


    The first customer comes in and before Brian tends to him, he walks past me and says: ?Just ask her, Leah.¡°


    But Delilah doesn''t text me that day. Nor the next.


    Caden is gone so much, I start pulling my hair out over his absence, texting him and receiving annoyed replies.


    When he wants to go out on a Friday, I say no.


    ?You''re not my mom, Leah,¡° Caden hisses and when Caden hisses, things are serious.


    I don''t care.


    ?The last time you went out, I had to pick you up from the hospital.¡°


    ?Can you just leave it, please?¡°


    He coughs into his hand.


    I swallow.


    ?Bring him over,¡° I say.


    ?What?¡°


    ?Just bring Alex over, if you want to see him. We can have dinner together.¡°


    Caden gives me a skeptical look.


    I stare right back.


    ?Okay. Fine. But...¡°


    ?But?¡°


    ?Be decent, okay?¡°


    I take a small step back.


    ?What? I''m always decent.¡°


    Caden doesn''t say any more to it.


    We make a casserole together and when the doorbell rings, Caden is nervous. I can tell by the way he keeps cracking his knuckles.


    ?Could you please stop that,¡° I snarl at him and he shoots me a pissed glance before opening the door.


    Alex is nothing like I expected. I think I thought of someone who looks like he used to be a football star. But despite that he does have the body of someone who hits the gym quite a lot, Alex doesn''t really resemble a football star.


    ?So nice to meet you, Leah,¡° he says, holding his hand out for me.


    He''s wearing a pink shirt and tight black jeans, a silver nose ring catching the light. His blue eyes are kind.


    ?Nice to meet you too.¡°


    I think he''s a little older than Caden. Or maybe he just looks like it.


    ?Thanks for having me,¡° he says and Caden keeps shifting his weight, smiling at Alex unsurely.


    I look between the two of them.


    Did I miss something?


    I have to wait until I''m alone with Caden in the kitchen before I can ask.


    ?Are you dating him?¡°


    Caden''s eyes widen.


    ?Alex and I? No. No, it''s not like that. He has a boyfriend.¡°


    I blink.


    ?But if he didn''t, you''d...?¡°


    My brother shakes his head.


    ?Nah.¡°


    I decide to believe him.


    Dinner is more relaxed than I''d anticipated. Alex is a good conversationalist and just generally very nice. Which is good because I''m not.


    And still, this is the guy that makes my brother go to parties and drink.


    I corner him in the kitchen when Caden is in the bathroom. His eyes are surprised when I block the door.


    ?Do you have a moment?¡°


    I almost feel bad, I have to admit.


    I almost feel bad when Alex leaves hurriedly, giving my brother a fleeting smile.


    Maybe I''ve been too blunt. I did intend to scare him. I could have said it differently. Caden looks between me and him. Then between the closed door and me.


    ?You didn''t,¡° he says and I actually flinch at his tone of voice.


    ?He needs to know.¡°


    ?That''s ¨C you... that was my fucking decision!¡°


    He''s shaking and for one moment, I''m scared.


    Then I remember it''s Caden.


    ?You''re acting irresponsibly!¡° I say.


    ?You''re crazy.¡°


    He''s still trembling and his agitation scares me a little.


    ?Calm down, Cades.¡°


    ?I''m not going to fucking calm down! You always sabotage me.¡°


    ?Jesus Christ, I didn''t sabotage you. I''m helping you!¡°


    ?You''re not helping, Leah.¡°


    ?You need to take care of yourself.¡°


    He stares at me, corners of his mouth pointing downwards.


    ?For you, that means not leaving the house.¡°


    ?No, it means staying away from bad influences.¡°


    ?Alex is not a bad influence! He''s my friend. And I don''t have a lot of those, in case you didn''t notice.¡°


    ?Just because you miss Adrian doesn''t mean you need to hang out with people that aren''t good for you.¡°


    ?Alex is good for me! I''m happier than I''ve been in a long time.¡°


    I swallow.


    ?Well, you can''t do the things you''re doing with him. No partying. No alcohol and whatever else you''re doing. If he wants to be your friend, he needs to adjust.¡°


    ?I don''t want to keep him from doing the things he likes! And I can be responsible.¡°


    ?I don''t think you can. If he''s your friend, he''ll understand.¡°


    Caden gives me a cold look.


    ?You wouldn''t know, would you? Afterall, you don''t have friends.¡°


    I open my mouth and close it again. Caden''s eyes widen a bit. It''s the face he makes when he regrets what he said. Yet he doesn''t take it back.


    ?I''m leaving,¡° I say and grab my wallet and keys.


    My hands are shaking a little.


    ?Good,¡° he says and stomps to his room, throwing the door shut.

 Chapter Four

    I call Delilah the second I step outside the building.


    ?Hey, Leah.¡°


    There is a lot of background noise, honking cars and the brisk steps of people hurrying along.


    We haven''t talked in days. I don''t care.


    ?Do you have time?¡°


    ?Um... yeah. Sure.¡°


    She must have sensed the urgency in my voice.


    ?Cool. I can pick you up.¡°


    ?I thought you don''t drink?¡°


    Delilah gives me an amused look.


    ?I don''t usually drink.¡°


    ?And today isn''t usually,¡° she concedes and takes a sip from her vodka soda.


    ?Will you dance with me?¡° she asks.


    I glance at the mass of people on the dancefloor, shaking their asses and grinding against each other.


    It''s a straight club, meaning all the girls look the same and all the men are only here to stare at the girls'' boobs.


    ?I don''t really dance.¡°


    ?Tonight you will,¡° Delilah says.


    Somehow, I have the feeling she''s right.


    ?I need another drink first.¡°


    I haven''t drunk in a year and the alcohol hits me with full force. It''s a great feeling. I''m warm and fuzzy and my limbs are so loose, I don''t protest at all when Delilah pulls me to the dancefloor. The music that''s playing isn''t necessarily my thing, but I find that I don''t mind. When Low comes on I scream along with everyone else.


    The whole night, I''ve avoided looking at Delilah too closely. But now I can''t help it. She''s dancing right in front of me and she looks just... she looks like someone that would get cast as the main role of a love story.


    The dress she''s wearing is short and tight and black and there is a zipper in front, which is silver and keeps shining in the disco lights. Her hair is messy in just the right way and her eyes rimmed with black and I just... I want to touch her.


    I dance like I haven''t since I was eighteen and angry and finally free. I dance and forget about everything that keeps my mind spinning.


    I don''t think about that I can''t dance. I just do it.


    When a dude grabs Delilah''s wrist, I glare at him and she takes my hand and I spin her around, away from him.


    For a moment, we''re face to face. Then I let her go.


    ?I love this song,¡° she shouts and I can feel the beat vibrating in my chest.


    I don''t know the song as well as she does, but it''s a good one.


    I''m watching her move and I''m certainly not the only one.


    There are at least three guys staring at her, salivating, contemplating how to best make their move.


    The song ends and Delilah laughs and comes closer as one of the man gets closer to her. My heart is beating loudly.


    ?Watch out,¡° I tell her, not sure if she can even hear me over the music. ?This one is gonna come over.¡°


    She grins. Her face is very close now.


    We''re not really dancing anymore. Her arms come up, rest on my shoulder. She crosses her wrists behind my neck. I stop breathing.


    ?You want to give them a show?¡°


    Her breath smells like tequila and her eyeliner is smudged.


    When she kisses me, my eyes close. Her lips are so soft and we just stay there for a moment, mouth on mouth, blood pulsing through me.


    She pulls back a fraction. Just a fraction and looks at me.


    I lock eyes with her, then kiss her again.


    She parts her lips and my tongue flicks over her bottom lip and there is no room for anything anymore. Anything but her.


    My hands are on her waist, her lower back. She touches my hair, my neck. Pulls me closer.


    I think someone is whistling, but I don''t care.


    I got the girl and they don''t.


    When we part, Delilah grins at me. She takes my hand.


    ?Dance with me.¡°


    I wake up hungover the next day. Hungover and happy. My mouth tastes disgusting from all the alcohol, but I still remember how tequila tastes on Delilah''s tongue and I bury my face in my pillow.


    I think of her when I roll out of bed, momentarily feeling terribly sick. I think of her when I pad into the shower, washing away the sweat and smoke and then brushing my teeth to chase away the foul taste. I think of her when I make coffee, the strongest brew I''m capable of making. I take a sip and that''s when I think of Caden.


    Caden, who I stormed out on yesterday.


    I slink to his room and knock.


    ?Cades?¡°


    No one answers. I sigh and push the door open.


    He''s not there.


    My heart starts beating.


    I know, I shouldn''t get this uneasy. He''s mad at me and when Caden is mad, he needs his space.


    But not knowing where he is, is and has always been, the worst feeling in the world for me.


    I call him, but he doesn''t answer. It''s almost noon. Maybe he''s with Alex. Or he went out to some caf¨¦ to write.


    I take my coffee to the couch and sit down with my phone.


    Maybe I should text Delilah. I should text her. But I''m not sure what to say. That I had fun last night? That much is obvious. That I want to do it again? I''m scared she''d say no.


    In the end, I settle for: Did you get home safe?


    She doesn''t answer. Maybe she''s still sleeping.


    I empty my cup and press a hand to my stomach. It''s been a long while since I''ve been hungover and I really didn''t miss it.


    And yet, I feel myself smiling. I can''t stop smiling.


    ?Don''t get too excited,¡° I tell the empty room.


    But I am excited. And maybe it''s okay to be. I mean, I just made out with the prettiest girl I''ve ever seen. A girl with big dreams and a lot of bite. I''m allowed to get excited about that. I sing along to the songs on the radio while I make breakfast (I always feel less sick after eating something).


    I almost miss my phone ringing.


    ?Hello?¡°


    Maybe it''s Alex. It''s possible that Caden''s phone died.


    ?Miss Jones?¡°


    I have a d¨¦j¨¤-vu. Only that it isn''t really. It has happened before.


    ?Yes?¡°


    ?Are you Caden Jones'' sister?¡°


    ?Yes.¡°


    ?We''re sorry to inform you that your brother suffered a heart failure.¡°


    I don''t notice that my legs give in. I just find myself on the floor, the whole room spinning.


    ?Is he dead?¡°


    ?No. We''ve successfully ressurected him. He''s currently in intensive care.¡°


    ?I''ll be there in twenty minutes.¡°


    ?Miss Jones?¡°


    ?Where is he? I want to see him.¡°


    The doctor holds me back.


    ?You can see him as soon as we''re done with the tests we''re currently running.¡°


    ?Will he die?¡°


    ?He''s stable at the moment.¡°


    I''m shaking.


    ?Sit down. Drink some water. We''ll get back to you as soon as possible,¡° she says, giving me one sympathetic look before hurrying off.


    I sit down and wonder if it''s possible that this is just a dream.


    I want it to be a dream, but I know it''s not.


    In the end, I only have to wait an hour before another doctor approaches me. He''s sturdy and not much taller than me, black-gray hair and round glasses plus a mouth that''s made for smiling.


    ?Miss Jones?¡°


    I get up. He shakes my hand.


    ?I am Doctor Navarro,¡° he says.


    His handshake is warm and strong.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ?How is Caden?¡°


    Even on his friendly face, I recognize the look. It''s a doctor''s bad-news look.


    ?Mr. Jones is stable. But his heart failure has been the result of a chronic heart insufficiency, which is not uncommon regarding his history. His records say he was born with a heart defect?¡°


    I nod.


    ?Yes.¡°


    ?And he''s had surgery twice before?¡°


    He did. Once before he could even speak, so small I didn''t think he could survive people opening up his chest. That was the big one, when they tried to fix his fucked heart. When he was twelve, he got a pacemaker to tackle his arrhythmia. That''s when they told us he''d likely experience complications in the future.


    No one wanted to get specific on that one. I assume they didn''t know what would happen.


    But that Caden''s heart has never been able to do its job properly is not a secret.


    ?So what do we do now?¡° I ask.


    Navarro looks at me with sympathy. He''s sorry.


    ?I''m afraid he''ll need a transplant.¡°


    I close my eyes for a moment.


    ?Okay. Okay, so ¨C how do we get one?¡°


    ?I already put him on the waiting list. I''m optimistic that he''ll recieve one in time. He''s way younger than most.¡°


    I''ve seen the statistics before. How many donors there are and how many people need a heart.


    ?Okay,¡° I say. ?Does he have to stay here? As long as we''re waiting for one?¡°


    ?We''ll keep him here for surveillance for a couple days and then decide if he''s well enough to go home. I expect he will be, but we can''t be sure at this point.¡°


    ?How... long does it take? Until he gets a transplant?¡°


    Navarro tilts his head.


    ?That varies a lot. Some people have to wait for years. Others only weeks. We can''t predict it.¡°


    ?Alright.¡°


    My hands are trembling, but I know I have to keep it together.


    ?So, how will he be feeling?¡°


    ?Chronic fatigue is common. Coughing. Sometimes, swelling of the limbs occurs.¡°


    I think about Caden''s cough. I think about him sleeping in the afternoon.


    ?He needs to rest. No school and no sports.¡°


    I nod.


    ?Yes. Of course.¡°


    I blink. My head is spinning. I feel sick.


    Navarro reaches out and squeezes my arm.


    ?I''m optimistic that he''ll be fine.¡°


    I nod, not able to talk.


    ?Thank you.¡°


    He leaves me and I can finally go to see my brother.


    Unlike the last time, there is now a myrad of tubes sneaking their way into his veins. At least he''s not wearing a mask.


    My hands smell of disinfectants and the mask I''m wearing seems to keep me from taking a deep breath.


    ?Hey, Cades.¡°


    He blinks slowly. Only half-awake.


    Very carefully, so not to hurt him, I sit down beside him and take his hand.


    ?How are you feeling?¡°


    He swallows.


    ?Been better.¡°


    His voice is hoarse.


    I run one finger over the back of his hand. Lightly.


    ?What''s happening now?¡° he asks.


    He can hardly keep his eyes open.


    Part of me wants to shield him from the truth. But of course he has to know.


    ?You need a heart transplant, Caden,¡° I tell him.


    He swallows.


    ?Oh.¡°


    ?I''m sorry.¡°


    ?It''s okay. I mean, we already knew my heart was doing a shit job.¡°


    He tries for a smile.


    I don''t smile back.


    ?You know I''d give you mine.¡°


    He frowns, his eyelids dropping again.


    ?Don''t say that.¡°


    ?It''s true.¡°


    ?You keep yours,¡° he murmurs and I''m fighting the tears.


    ?I need you to be strong, Cades,¡° I say.


    He nods, eyes closed.


    ?I''m here, love,¡° I say, stroking his hand.


    I think he smiles a little.


    I stay with him until I''m certain he''s fallen asleep.


    Standing in the white corridor again, I know that I''ll have to call my mother. I might be Caden''s emergency contact, but she will want to know. I guess she has the right to.


    When I look at my phone, I see that Delilah has texted me.


    My night with her at the club feels like years ago.


    I call my mother. As expected, she has no idea how to handle this and I''m not going to be the one to comfort her. That''s just too much right now.


    ?I''ll come over,¡° she says and I want to tell her not to, but Caden will want to see her. So I say nothing.


    ?Do you need anything?¡° she asks.


    ?A new heart for my brother.¡°


    I can hear her swallow.


    ?It''ll all be -¡°


    ?Don''t,¡° I cut her off.


    I hang up and call Delilah instead.


    ?Hey, you.¡°


    Her voice is sleepy and flirtatious.


    ?Caden is in the hospital,¡° I tell her without preamble.


    I can hear her sitting up.


    ?What? Why? Another panic attack?¡°


    ?No. He needs a heart transplant.¡°


    There is a short silence.


    ?Oh, fuck. Fuck. I don''t know what to say.¡°


    ?Me neither.¡°


    ?Do you want me to come?¡°


    I bite my lip.


    It might be wiser to say no.


    But, as Caden so nicely pointed out, no one else will.


    ?If you have time?¡°


    ?Sure. Wait, let me just get dressed.¡°


    My mother is the first to arrive.


    ?Honey,¡° she says and I turn my head away and hug her briefly.


    She''s wearing jeans and t-shirt, no make up. She must have rushed.


    ?Can I see him?¡° she asks.


    ?He''s sleeping.¡°


    ?He needs to rest.¡°


    ?Obviously.¡°


    My mother doesn''t say anything to that comment, just looks at me.


    ?Are you okay?¡°


    ?What do you think?¡° I snap. ?My brother might die. He needs a new heart.¡°


    ?Yes. That was a stupid question.¡°


    She reaches out to touch my shoulder, but I jerk it away.


    ?What exactly happened?¡° she asks.


    ?He collapsed at a caf¨¦. Heart failure. They brought him to the hospital immediately.¡°


    I fill her in on everything she''s missed and then we sit there in silence.


    ?Don''t visit Caden when you''re not well,¡° I say,


    She looks at me. Her eyes are blue, so unlike mine.


    My mother used to be really pretty when she was younger. Now it''s all gone.


    ?I''m well, Leah.¡°


    ?Yeah. Right now. Don''t come see him when it changes.¡°


    She swallows.


    ?It won''t. Not drastically.¡°


    ?Whatever. Just... don''t worry him.¡°


    Before she can answer, I see a very familiar figure approaching us.


    I get up and walk toward her, meeting her in the middle of the corridor.


    ?Hey,¡° Delilah says, crease between her brows.


    She''s wearing plain shorts and a loose shirt, no make up and her hair looks unkempt.


    ?I''m so sorry, Leah,¡° she says and hugs me.


    Feeling her warm, solid body calms me.


    ?Yeah,¡° I just say and she holds me a little tighter before letting go.


    ?My mother is here.¡°


    ?Oh. Okay.¡°


    ?We don''t get along well.¡°


    ?I can save you from awkward conversation if you want,¡° she says and I smile.


    ?You just did.¡°


    I go back to my apartment with Delilah to pick up some things for Caden.


    ?I bought you some food,¡° Delilah says and finally hands me the brown bag she''d been carrying.


    ?Thank you,¡° I say and mean it.


    I share the donuts with her and we head back to the hospital.


    My mother hovers a bit and then eventually leaves and Delilah and I curl up on the bench in a waiting area nearest Caden''s room. I''m not sure I''m allowed to touch her. Experimentally, I lean my head against her shoulder. She rests her cheek against the top of my head and drapes one arm around me. Her fingers are drawing circles on my upper arm and I close my eyes.


    ?Are you scared?¡° she asks quietly.


    ?Yes. Terrified.¡°


    She pulls me a little closer.


    ?I get it.¡°


    ?The thing is, even if he gets a transplant, he could still die,¡° I say.


    ?But he could also live.¡°


    ?He has to. He''s... you don''t have siblings, right?¡°


    She shakes her head.


    ?I don''t know how to explain it. But thinking about him die ¨C I can''t even imagine it. And I tried to. A lot.¡°


    ?He''s always had this desease?¡°


    ?A defect, yes. He was born with it. They tried to fix it when he was a kid. Didn''t really work.¡°


    Delilah frowns, one hand caressing my arm.


    I''m a terrible person for that hand taking up most of my attention. I don''t know why, but somehow, I feel like she''s slipping. Like she''d be half out of the door already, even though she''s right here with me. Holding me.


    I''m not allowed to take Caden home.


    ?It''s too risky,¡° Navarro tells me.


    I blink at him, nod. My throat feels sore.


    I can''t get sick right now. If I do, they won''t let me see my brother.


    ?But it might actually a good thing,¡° Navarro goes on. ?The more urgent his case is, the sooner he''ll be considered for a transplant.¡°


    ?Oh. Hi.¡°


    Alex clearly did not intend to run into me.


    I can''t blame him.


    ?He''s in room 242,¡° I say.


    I''m more or less living at the hospital now. I don''t even go to work.


    ?Okay.¡°


    He turns around and I turn back to the coffee machine. I bet if they tested my blood, they''d find it to be half consisting of caffeine.


    ?Leah?¡°


    Alex'' eyes aren''t quite blue, but not really gray, either. Something in between. They''re overshadowed by strong brows.


    ?I''m really sorry this happened,¡° he says.


    I look at the cup in my hand.


    Last time I saw him, I very intentionally scared him away by telling him all about Caden''s condition. I think I''ve used the phrase his heart could stop any moment. Back then, I thought I was exaggerating.


    I know I should apologize to him. But my brother is slowly dying a couple metres away from me and I can''t bring myself to.


    ?Thanks,¡° I just say.


    While Alex slips into Caden''s room, I retreat back to my preferred chair, wrapping one hand around the cup.


    I check my phone.


    No new messages.


    Delilah spent hours with me at the hospital every day for the last week. But today, she couldn''t make it, so I have to keep checking my phone.


    ?Hey, honey.¡°


    My head snaps up.


    It''s my mother, brown bag in hand.


    ?I made brownies,¡° she says and I hate her.


    I used to love her brownies as a child. I told her so often.


    ?I''m not hungry.¡°


    She ignores me and takes the chair next to me. It creaks as she sits down. Her youthful cheerleader figure is long gone.


    ?You know, I was thinking,¡° she starts and I don''t want to hear it.


    The brownies'' smell pervades the paper bag, irritating my nostrils.


    ?When this is all over, maybe Caden should move in with me. Just for a while. I did some research and he''ll have to undergo weekly treatments and check-ups after he got the transplant. And he''ll also need a lot of rest.¡°


    ?Caden''s staying with me,¡° I say.


    My mom gives me a very slight frown.


    ?Leah, you don''t have as much time as I do. And you shouldn''t have to take care of your brother like that. That''s my job.¡°


    I give her a scoring glance that makes her flinch.


    ?Oh, is it now?¡°


    ?Leah.¡°


    ?Funny how it was me who was always around cleaning up his shit when he was a kid. Not you.¡°


    My mother''s face hardens, yet it appears brittle at the same time.


    It''s disturbing. It''s disturbing looking at her puffy, faded face.


    ?I can''t change the past. How many more times do I have to tell you that?¡°


    I get up.


    ?Until you finally realize that you can''t change the future either.¡°


    Without looking back, I leave the hospital in long strides.

 Chapter Five

    ?So this is your dorm?¡°


    It''s not what I expected Delilah''s room to look like. I was thinking many posters and pics of her with friends, maybe some books. But none of that is to be found in here. Only a lot of clothes thrown over the bedpost and a chair. Her desk is littered with make up.


    Delilah herself is wearing booty shorts and a loose shirt. It''s from a singer I know. I think of Delilah at one of her concerts and have to stifle a smile.


    ?My roommate is back home for break,¡° Delilah says and sits down on the bed.


    She pats the mattress next to her. Clumsily, I sit down.


    ?So? Any specific reason why you''re here? You sounded upset.¡°


    I shake my head and try not to be so overwhelmed by her intoxicating scent. Maybe I should write and essay about that ¨C why it is that we''re so attracted to smell. I mean, it''s not like Delilah and I could reproduce. So what is my nose telling me? What sort of match could we biologically make?


    I shake my head.


    ?Just my mom. I''d rather not talk about it.¡°


    Delilah hums and turns to me. I close my eyes before her lips have even found mine.


    Kissing is another thing I could write an essay about. Before Delilah, I thought kissing was often nice and sometimes gross. Now I''m scared of it because it''s so addicting. It''s like there is something in her saliva that makes my head spin.


    Which sounds gross enough. Yet it''s not.


    ?What happened with your mom?¡° she asks me, one manicured finger tracing my cheek.


    There are some barely visible freckles splattered over her nose. A little zit right next to her left nostril.


    ?I don''t want to talk about it,¡° I repeat.


    Delilah''s dark eyes flick to mine, then back to my mouth.


    ?Okay. Then let''s not talk.¡°


    I think I''m surprised when she takes off her shirt. At the same time, it''s like this is the only thing that could possibly be happening right now. Nothing else would make sense.


    I follow the curve of her waist to her hip and whisper against her skin: ?Have you? With a girl?¡°


    Her fingers are in my hair.


    ?Yes. Never with you though.¡°


    I respond by tasting her skin. It''s salty and warm.


    ?Don''t be shy,¡° she says, quietly.


    Teasingly.


    I smirk against her belly button.


    ?Oh, darling. I''m not shy.¡°


    ?I always knew you''d be like that,¡° she says, her fingers lazily playing with my hair, my head heavy on her chest.


    ?Like what?¡°


    I think she''s smiling.


    ?So unexpectedly confident.¡°


    I hold her a little tighter.


    ?You''re unexpectedly noisy,¡° I retort.


    She lightly swats my head.


    ?Shut up. You love it.¡°


    I smile against her warm skin.


    ?I do.¡°


    ?Why are you so smiley?¡°


    Caden eyes me curiously. I try to overlook the fact that his brown skin is ashey and find that I can''t.


    ?No reason.¡°


    ?You''re never smiley for no reason,¡° he states.


    I look at his hands. I want to tell him. But part of me wonders it might jinx it.


    ?I might have hooked up with someone.¡°


    Huge eyes with impossible lashes twinkle at me.


    ?Delilah?¡°


    I don''t answer.


    Of course Delilah.


    ?So you''re together now?¡°


    ?Jesus, stop.¡°


    I put my hair into a high ponytail.


    Part of me tries to fool itself into thinking I could still taste Delilah on my tongue.


    ?No, but seriousley. Are you?¡°


    Caden''s lips are a little blue.


    ?I don''t know, Cades. Dating in your twenties means you never know.¡°


    Listen to me, dating expert at twenty-one.


    ?Oh. So it is serious.¡°


    ?Cades, honestly. Just shut your mouth.¡°


    My brother smiles.


    ?Hey, it''s okay. You like her.¡°


    What a stupid fucking statement. I obviously like her.


    ?Did you talk about it?¡° he asks.


    ?I was thinking we could watch Netflix together?¡° I ask him.


    ?Don''t dodge the question.¡°


    I sigh.


    ?No, we didn''t talk about it.¡°


    I left, eventually. Left the bed with messed-up sheets that now smelled like sex. Left the girl in those sheets that told me she had to attend an audition in the evening.


    ?Maybe you should.¡°


    ?What the hell, Caden? It''s enough now, yeah?¡°


    He gives me another look.


    ?Okay.¡°


    ?Great.¡°


    I slip into bed with him and rest my head on his bony shoulder.


    He picks one of those stupid action movies he loves that I would never admit I like as well and for a while, we don''t talk at all.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ?Leah?¡°


    ?Hm.¡°


    ?If I die -¡°


    My head shoots up.


    ?Don''t say that.¡°


    He frowns and waves his hand.


    ?Listen to me, please.¡°


    My heart is stuttering in my chest, but I shut my mouth.


    ?I want to see Adrian. Just in case.¡°


    I''m still struggling to regain my ability to speak.


    ?Don''t worry, I''m not planning on dying. But... I''d really like to see Adrian.¡°


    I nod slowly.


    ?Yeah. Of course. Did you already... have you told him?¡°


    Caden shakes his head, not looking at me.


    ?Tell him. I''m sure you won''t even have to ask him to visit.¡°


    I''m positive Adrian will drop everything and fly over. He wouldn''t even have to miss classes, since we''re on summer break anyway.


    ?You think so?¡°


    ?Yes.¡°


    ?Okay, then...¡°


    I hand him his phone from the nighstand.


    ?Those are really good.¡°


    Delilah grins at me from her place on my kitchen counter with her mouth full of the muffins my mom insisted I''d take home.


    ?I don''t want them,¡° I say, knowing I''m being childish.


    Delilah swallows and puts a sticky finger over my lips.


    ?You''re stupid then. Whatever your mom did ¨C it''s not worth you refusing those heavenly muffins.¡°


    I open my mouth and close my lips around her finger.


    Delilah''s lips part. I swirl my tongue around the tip, faintly tasting a bit of sugary dough.


    ?Not bad,¡° I say, releasing her finger.


    Smirking.


    After a moment of recovery, Delilah grins, her eyes crinkling a little.


    ?Such a dirty one,¡° she says, sparkle in her eyes.


    ?But, really. What happened with your mom? Why are you so mad at her?¡°


    I look down and put one hand on her knee, slowly tracing the bones there.


    ?She just... didn''t do a very good job as a parent,¡° I say.


    ?That''s awfully vague,¡° she says gently.


    ?I know. Delilah?¡°


    ?Yes?¡°


    ?I want to ask you something.¡°


    I look up at her.


    ?Okay. What is it?¡°


    ?Will you be my girlfriend?¡°


    My heart is pounding.


    It seems so not like me. I never asked this question before. I don''t think I usually would.


    But my brother is in the hospital and might die any day and I''m painfully lonely because I never let anyone close to me and here is this girl. This horribly rich girl that is way too good for me.


    And I don''t care. I''m done fucking around.


    Delilah''s eyes are wide.


    ?Oh.¡°


    I bite my lip.


    ?Look, I don''t ¨C it''s not like I mean that much by it. Just... well. I''d like to be girlfriends. If you''re down.¡°


    My palms are sweaty now. Delilah looks down at her knees.


    ?Leah...¡°


    My heart is sinking. She takes my hand.


    ?I like you. I really do. But this is ¨C this is a little too fast for me, okay? I like how things are right now.¡°


    I try to swallow my disappointment.


    Part of me wants to object. Tell her that it really isn''t that fast. We''ve kissed for the first time weeks ago. We''ve slept together and she spent countless boring days with me at the hospital.


    I look at the strap of her white top. It''s always threatening to slide off her shoulder.


    ?Alright.¡°


    Delilah tilts her head. Searches my eyes.


    ?Really?¡°


    The two choices I have are either take what she''s offering or walk away. Which means it''s not really a choice at all.


    ?Yeah,¡° I say and try for a smile.


    She kisses me and I think that this might be enough.


    I need it to be.


    Seeing Adrian again is like taking a trip through a Pensive (if you peasant haven''t read Harry Potter, replace that with down memory lane).


    His shirt fits him a little tighter than I remember, his hair is shorter ¨C no bangs covering his dark brows anymore.


    ?Leah. Nice to see you again.¡°


    He grins at me and that is the one I remember. All teeth and shit-eating.


    ?I''m glad you could make it.¡°


    I hug him and his solid body calms me. He smells like one of those hyper masculine body-washs and fresh clothes.


    ?How''s your family?¡° I ask.


    ?Oh, they''re good. I mean, Mam¨¢ still won''t let me hear the end of it, how I ruined my life with moving to Chicago, but everyone else got over it. I actually think pap¨¢ is kinda proud of me.¡°


    He grins and I envy his ease.


    ?He should be.¡°


    Adrian shrugs.


    ?I''m trying.¡°


    When Adrian, to everyone''s surprise, got a sports-scholarship for a college in Chicago, his parents wanted to talk him into staying. Adrian was to take over his parents'' restaurant and having those dreams crushed took a while for the family to get over.


    But now, Adrian''s little sister took a liking to the business and his father is all too happy to teach her everything she has to know.


    ?What about your siblings?¡° I ask.


    ?Nina''s graduating this year, so everyone''s excited. And Louis ¨C I mean, you know him.¡°


    Adrian shrugs.


    ?He''s keeping Mam¨¢ busy.¡°


    I haven''t met Louis very often. He''s a lot younger than Adrian.


    ?Is he in highschool already?¡°


    ?No. He''ll start in two years.¡°


    ?Have you seen Caden already?¡° I ask him.


    He shakes his head.


    ?I''m kinda scared, actually.¡°


    He laughs, a little embarrassedly. Then he sobers.


    ?How bad is it? Like, for real.¡°


    I hold his gaze.


    ?If we find a donor in time, his chances aren''t too bad.¡°


    Adrian nods curtly.


    ?Then let''s hope someone dies.¡°


    Going back to work is a challenge. But I can''t use up all my free days ¨C I''ll likely need them after Caden''s surgery. Anne and the staff gift me with food and good wishes and I almost can''t bear their pitiful looks.


    ?I''ll take your shift if you''re needed at the hospital,¡° Brian tells me and that''s the first time I''m truly grateful.


    I''ve just cleaned up my equipment and taken off my apron, when the doorbell tingles.


    I almost trip at the sight of high-waisted shorts and expensive sneakers. Delilah smiles at me.


    ?Hey.¡°


    ?What are you doing here?¡°


    I stand in front of her and my heart is pounding as if this wasn''t just a person I''m having sex with sometimes.


    ?Picking you up,¡° she says.


    Her nailpolish is chipped and a thin layer of sweat makes her baby hair cling to her skin. I''m looking at her lips. She has a mouth out of a magazine for make up. Her mouth deserves a whole editorial.


    ?I was about to head to the hospital.¡°


    ?I figured. Maybe we could grab a bite on the way?¡°


    I nod. I''m not sure I''m smiling. My heart just keeps pounding away.


    ?See you tomorrow,¡° Anne calls after us.


    Outside the shop, humid air hits me, hot and stuffy, trapped between the skyscrapers. Delilah reaches for my hand.


    ?My palms are sweaty,¡° I say.


    ?Mine too.¡°


    It''s a little gross, holding hands like this, our sweat mixing. I make it even grosser by thinking about licking the sweat off her body.


    ?I was thinking wraps?¡°


    ?Alright.¡°


    Whatever you want, I might as well have added.


    I let her lead me to one of those places where the rich kids eat, with tiny portions and a lot of green and a working AC.


    ?My treat,¡° she says as I''m fishing for my wallet.


    ?You don''t have to pay for me.¡°


    She winks at me.


    ?I know. But I dragged you here, so I''m paying.¡°


    I can''t keep her from it without causing a scene, so I instead opt for staring at her legs.


    ?How was your audition?¡° I ask her as we''re eating our wraps on high stools, elbows on the table.


    ?Not very good,¡° she says, holding a hand in front of her mouth.


    ?I think they were looking for some blond model.¡°


    She shrugs as if it was nothing. I''m never sure it really is.


    ?The next one will be better,¡° I say.


    ?I hope so.¡°


    Under the table, her foot bumps against my shin. Then, she puts it on the rod of my stool, between my feet. We''re staring at each other, smiling, mouthes smeared with sauce.


    ?Think I''m pretty?¡° she asks cheekily.


    I swallow.


    ?Almost as pretty as when you''re naked in my bed.¡°


    That makes her laugh and almost choke and blush and I wait for her to regain her composure.


    ?You''re horrible, Leah.¡°


    But her eyes are shining and I know that labels don''t matter. I don''t need to call her a certain thing to know that what we have, no one can touch.


    I''m smiling on my way to Caden''s room, hand in hand with Delilah.


    Dr. Navarro stops me in the hallway. His face is serious. I stop smiling.


    ?What is it?¡°


    ?Caden''s condition worsened. We had to mechanically stabilize his heart function to prevent another failure.¡°


    My skin tears open.


    ?Oh. What does that mean?¡°


    ?That we need a donor, as soon as possible.¡°


    ?Can I see him?¡°


    ?He''s asleep now. I''d adivse you go check on him later,¡° the doctor says, brown eyes full of sympathy.


    I think I might faint. I almost don''t feel Delilah squeezing my hand.


    Navarro hold my gaze.


    ?There is no reason to lose hope. We can keep him in that state for many days, often weeks. I''m sure we''ll find a donor in time.¡°

 Chapter Six

    ?Are you okay?¡°


    For the first time since I''ve met her, I can''t stand seeing Delilah''s face.


    ?Could you maybe just... leave?¡°


    Dark eyes look at me. Unsure. I drop my own gaze to the ugly greenish hospital floor.


    ?If that''s what you want, sure.¡°


    ?It''s what I want,¡° I say, not knowing if it is at all.


    ?Okay. Then I''ll see you soon?¡°


    I nod, not looking up at her. I can''t bear it.


    ?I''m here,¡° she says and there is the ghost of fingers on my jaw before she leaves and I''m alone with the floor.


    ?Leah?¡°


    It''s my mother. The last person I want to see right now.


    ?Go away.¡°


    She doesn''t.


    It''s hilarious, how now, that I don''t want her to, she always seems to be around.


    ?Dr. Navarro talked to me.¡°


    ?Great.¡°


    I keep my eyes on the floor. Inside of me, my own heart feels about to give up its job. Her eyes on me feel like the plague. I want her to look away.


    ?You shouldn''t be alone right now,¡° she says.


    ?I want to.¡°


    ?We should stick together. Caden is...¡°


    Her voice breaks and a scream is building in my chest.


    She wants comfort. She always does.


    ?Go home, please,¡° I say.


    ?You''re the only one who understands,¡° she says and I think she''s crying.


    She expects me to be the old Leah again. The one that would have opened her arms and told her that everything is going to be okay. That she is strong and will get through it.


    The new Leah wouldn''t. The new Leah would spit fire at her.


    But in reality, there is no old and new Leah.


    There''s just me.


    ?Please,¡° I say again. ?I can''t do this right now.¡°


    I want her to go and I don''t want her to. I hate myself.


    ?Honey,¡° she says.


    My lip is trembling.


    ?He might die,¡° I say loudly.


    A hand is put on my shoulder. Cautiously. I pretend that I don''t notice.


    ?They put him on machines.¡°


    ?He''ll get through this, honey.¡°


    I squeeze my eyes shut. The hand on my shoulder moves to my upper back. I stand up.


    ?I have to go.¡°


    With that, I flee the hospital.


    ?I hate her. I want her to leave,¡° I tell Delilah, knees drawn to my chest.


    She tucks her own legs under, my old couch squeaking a little bit.


    ?It''s her son,¡° she says quietly.


    ?A fact she used to forget about whenever it was convenient.¡°


    My lip is trembling again. I don''t know what''s wrong with me ¨C I don''t usually cry. But then again, my brother is dying.


    Delilah strokes my knee.


    ?What did she do?¡°


    I look across the room, at the slowly yellowing tapestry.


    ?It''s more about what she didn''t do. She didn''t break up with Caden''s father when he started hitting us. She didn''t go to rehab when she should have. And she was never there when we needed her to be.¡°


    I stare at Delilah''s hand on my knee. The nails are dark blue.


    ?I''m sorry, Leah.¡°


    I shrug.


    ?Being sorry doesn''t change anything. I''ve been trying to explain that to her for years now.¡°


    ?Was she a drug addict?¡°


    ?Alcoholic.¡°


    ?Is she sober now?¡°


    I snort and shrug.


    ?Who knows? I guess so. She was sober, then she wasn''t ¨C I honestly don''t care anymore.¡°


    Looking at her still seems impossible.


    ?It''s okay if you do,¡° Delilah says quietly.


    I close my eyes, but can''t keep the tears from rolling. So I stare at the ceiling, head tilted back.


    ?I was always there, comforting her. It took me so long to see ¨C everything was always, always about her. But I had to live with him too, you know? Maybe he was worse to her. But it wasn''t easy for me either.¡°


    ?Leah.¡°


    Delilah reaches out and wipes the tears away. Her voice is breaking just a little.


    ?I''m fine now,¡° I say, clearly not fine. ?I don''t need her. And I made it clear that she can''t need me either. I just ¨C her being at the hospital, it makes me so... I don''t know.¡°


    ?It''s okay to want her comfort,¡° Delilah says and I start sobbing.


    She holds me until my phone rings. It''s Doctor Navarro.


    ?We found a donor.¡°


    Everything has to happen very quickly once a donor is found, so I''m rushing to the hospital with Delilah.


    Navarro explains to me that Caden is currently undergoing some perfunctory tests before the surgery can begin.


    ?Can I see him?¡° I ask, blood already thrumming.


    ?Yes. Caden, you and your mother will all be informed about risks and possible complications.¡°


    I nod and try to stay calm.


    ?How long...?¡°


    ?I''ll get you in around an hour. It would be best if you''d wait here.¡°


    I nod again and he leaves me, always busy. Delilah squeezes my hand.


    ?This is good, Leah.¡°


    ?I know.¡°


    I do. It''s what we''ve been waiting for and I''m happy.


    Yet I still don''t like the prospect of Caden''s chest being cut open. Of his heart being taken out.


    ?Will you stay with me?¡° I ask Delilah.


    I don''t want to be, but I''m surprised to see her hesitate.


    ?I would, it''s just... I already have plans. I''m sorry.¡°


    I pull my hand away.


    ?Oh. Okay.¡°


    She has plans.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    My brother is about to undergo heart surgery, but she has plans.


    ?I''ll come by in the morning, okay?¡°


    I meet her gaze and I know that my own is steel.


    ?What plans do you have on a Thursday night?¡°


    Delilah frowns lightly.


    ?There''s a...gathering I have to attend. Very important people are going to be there.¡°


    I keep staring at her and she''s squirming a little.


    ?Then go.¡°


    ?I''ll be back early tomorrow, yeah?¡°


    ?Don''t worry about it.¡°


    I think she wants to say more, but I don''t look at her and finally, she just turns away. Taking a deep breath, I push her out of my mind. This is not about her right now.


    My brother is clearly the calmest of us (aside Navarro) as the doctor reads us all the risks and runs us through the process.


    ?What about afterwards?¡° I ask when he''s done with the procedure itself.


    ?Caden will have to take certain meds, right? And he''ll have a high risk of infection.¡°


    Navarro nods.


    I take Caden''s hand. More for me than for him.


    ?He''ll have to take immunosuppressants to prevent rejection. Unfortunately, we''re not yet able to do that without also weakening the immunosystem.¡°


    ?Can we talk about all that after the surgery, please?¡° Caden asks.


    Navarro nods and gives him a smile.


    ?You''ll have to sign this,¡° he says and Caden does without even reading it.


    It''s not like he''d have a choice.


    ?How long will the procedure take?¡° our mother asks.


    Navarro already said that, but no one points it out.


    ?Usually six to seven hours.¡°


    ?Can we stay here?¡° I ask.


    The doctor shakes his head.


    ?Unfortunately not. But we''ll give you a call when we''re done and you may come by in the early morning.¡°


    ?Everything is going to be fine, sweetie,¡° our mother tells Caden, her fingers trembling.


    Caden smiles at her.


    ?Yes, mom.¡°


    He kisses her cheek. I squeeze his hand.


    ?Be strong,¡° I tell him sternly.


    Caden grins at me.


    ?If I die, I''ll come haunt you.¡°


    I lean down and press a kiss to his forehead.


    ?I love you, Cades,¡° I murmur.


    His hand comes up to touch my cheek.


    ?I love you, too,¡° he says and I don''t know when the last time was we said that to each other.


    Maybe when he was five.


    ?I''ll tell Adrian, alright?¡°


    ?I already did,¡° Caden says. ?He said he''ll visit tomorrow morning. So be nice to him.¡°


    I nod and swallow and I know I''ll have to go now.


    ?Leah?¡°


    I turn around. My mother is standing on the corridor behind me.


    ?Do you want to come with me?¡°


    I shake my head and she takes two steps toward me.


    ?You''re coming with me,¡° she says and I do.


    None of us sleeps that night. We''re just sitting on her couch, the TV running in the background. Mostly silent. My mother makes tea and hands me cookies like some suburb Karen would do.


    It''s hard for me not to scream at her that she''s not that. She''s not a Karen. Not a mom with cookies and tea. I refuse to take a good long at her apartment, but I can''t deny I notice it''s clean and tidy. It looks like the home of a person who''s working and present.


    I wonder why she''s able to clean an apartment now, but wasn''t before.


    ?How is Adrian?¡° she asks me around two AM. ?I haven''t seen him in forever.¡°


    She always loved Adrian. It irks me, because I like him too.


    ?He''s alright,¡° I say and keep on rolling a small piece of paper I found in my pocket (probably a receipt or something similar) between my fingers.


    ?I have a job, you know,¡° she says.


    ?Wouldn''t be the first time.¡°


    She''s had a couple jobs over the years. As waitress, bartender and once barista. It never lasted long. She either got fired or quit.


    ?Don''t you want to know where?¡°


    ?Not really, no.¡°


    I think she''s looking to the side, shaking her head.


    ?Honestly, Leah. I get it. You want to punish me. You did, okay? Isn''t it enough?¡°


    ?You quit as a mother when I was four years old. Just because you now realize what you''ve missed doesn''t mean I suddenly want you back. I don''t need you anymore, Julia.¡°


    There is nothing she hates more than when I call her Julia.


    ?I know you don''t need me. But I want to be in your life. You and Caden are the best thing I have.¡°


    ?You don''t have me,¡° I say.


    Her blue eyes are dull now.


    ?Caden has forgiven me. Why can''t you?¡°


    ?Caden is way too nice for his own good. And he doesn''t remember as well as I do when his father ran amok and sent you right to the hospital.¡°


    ?I left him,¡° she says, voice so brittle.


    I shoot up.


    ?Are you crazy? You didn''t leave him. He left you. And it was the best day of my life, because no matter how much I begged you to go, you stayed. You stayed no matter what he did. To me, Julia. To Caden. Do you know the things he used to tell Caden? The things I then had to set right, so Caden wouldn''t grow up to be exactly like him?¡°


    Her lip is quivering.


    ?I was scared, okay? I didn''t know how it could work. I didn''t have a stable job, the apartment was his ¨C I didn''t think I could provide for you.¡°


    ?So better wait until he kills you and the problem solves itself.¡°


    For a moment, I think she''ll slap me. In the end, she doesn''t.


    ?Wait until you have kids. Then you''ll see it''s not all that easy.¡°


    ?I''ll never have kids.¡°


    ?Don''t say that,¡° she says.


    I pierce her with my eyes.


    ?You think you''d have been better off without us too.¡°


    ?I don''t think that.¡°


    ?Yes, you do. You told me so multiple times. Back then, that really sucked,¡° I say, shrugging.


    It hurt, would be the truth. It really hurt.


    ?But now I think you''re right. You should have never had kids.¡°


    Now she''s crying. Not loudly though. Just tears rolling down her cheeks.


    ?I didn''t know better, Leah.¡°


    ?Clearly. You let your highschool sweetheart ¨C who''s always been an utter jerk ¨C get you pregnant, then watch him leave and instead of trying to figure things out, you just went looking for the next jerk to fuck you over.¡°


    For a brief moment, I think that if she hadn''t, I wouldn''t have Caden.


    But I push that thought away.


    ?No one was there to help me, Leah. My parents hated me. My friends went off to college or work ¨C I was all alone, with a baby.¡°


    I hate talking to her about this.


    It makes me pity her. It makes me... understand. Just a little bit, but that little bit is already too much.


    ?I didn''t know how to do it alone,¡° she whispers.


    She looks at me, pleadingly. Always pleading.


    ?I really thought Carson would be a good man. I swear. And he was. For a brief time.¡°


    This is a time I hardly remember, but I know it existed.


    Carson, while my mother was pregnant, was a good guy. He was a guy that went grocery shopping for us and bought my favorite candy and treated me like a daughter.  When Caden was born, he was still good. When Caden turned one, he wasn''t anymore.


    ?Do you know why?¡° I ask.


    ?Why what?¡°


    ?Why he changed.¡°


    My mother sighs and it is a sound so full of fatigue it hurts.


    ?I''m not sure. I know he had trouble at work. His brother went to jail. Carson always said it wasn''t justified. But ultimately... I don''t know. Maybe it was me.¡°


    ?It was him,¡° I say.


    And I know it''s true, even though, during the darkest times, I thought with a festering hatred in my heart that it was all her. That she turned people that way.


    But that''s wrong.


    My mother looks at me.


    ?It''s been so long, Leah. Carson has been gone for... almost seven years.¡°


    ?It''s not like it would have stopped after him, is it?¡°


    She sighs again.


    ?Fine. Hate me if you need to.¡°


    It''s five in the morning when we get the call.


    ?Everything went according to plan. No complications. He''ll wake up during the next hour and you''ll be able to see him ¨C only for a couple minutes at first. He needs lots of rest.¡°


    I could kiss Navarro. I think I really would, in this moment.


    ?Thank you. Thanks, that''s ¨C thank you.¡°


    I turn to my mother.


    ?He made it through. Let''s go see him.¡°


    Caden isn''t really conscious when I sit down next to him and lightly squeeze his fingers, my skin reeking of disinfectants and my hair under a mask.


    ?It''s all good now, love,¡° I tell him.


    I think he blinks at me. Right now, he could be the same six-year-old that pouted at me, wanting ice cream on a summer day that smelled like fumes and sunscreen. He''s also the twelve-year-old that cheered for me at my school play, even though I was horrible, sweaty in a stiff costume.  And he''s the fifteen-year-old that hugged me and told me he''d miss me so much, but I''d have to move out. Only when you move in with me as soon as you can, I told him and he smiled his slightly crooked smile, zits all over his forehead and his eyes big enough to fit the whole universe inside them.


    I almost run into Adrian on my way out. He''s already in a mask that looks ridiculous on his tan skin, rough hands cleaner than I''ve ever seen them.


    ?How is he?¡°


    ?More or less asleep. But fine.¡°


    I smile at him.


    ?Can I...?¡°


    ?Sure.¡°


    Only after I saw Caden for the second time, this time awake, even though high on painkillers, the tiredness catches up to me.


    Adrenalin can only keep you up for so long and I haven''t slept in almost thirty-six hours.


    ?Honey, I''ll go home and sleep a little. You should too,¡° my mother says but I shake my head.


    She waits a moment, as if I''d change my mind.


    ?I''ll come back with some food,¡° she says and with that, finally leaves me.


    ?You know, it doesn''t really make a difference if you nap here or at home,¡° Adrian tells me, sitting down next to me.


    ?Yet you''re here too.¡°


    He gives me one of his grins. I always understood why he was the guy all the younger girls had a crush on.


    ?Did he talk to you?¡° I ask, stifling a yawn.


    ?Yeah. I made a video. Cades on painkillers is better than my roommates on Molly.¡°


    I smile faintly.


    ?I hope you''re not taking drugs, Adrian?¡°


    He gives me a canting smile.


    ?Sure I don''t.¡°


    ?I''m glad you''re here,¡° I tell him and his smile grows soft.


    ?Me too.¡°


    I''m half-asleep on Adrian''s shoulder when Delilah approaches me. Her face is bare and she looks like she''s had a long night as well.


    ?Hey,¡° she says.


    Adrian''s eyes give her a sweep ¨C while Delilah''s eyes are darting between me and Adrian.


    ?Am I interrupting?¡°


    ?Kind of,¡° I say, but when she turns to go, I grab her wrist.


    I know I''m making a mistake. But I''m an excellent liar, so I''ll just ignore it.


    ?Stay.¡°


    I can feel Adrian''s gaze on me.


    ?Okay.¡°


    Delilah''s smile gets me every time. Every. Single. Time.


    When she sits down on my lap without warning, my eyes widen and my sleep-deprived brain short-circuits. She kisses me lightly ¨C presses her lips to my mouth in the middle of a hospital corridor.


    Adrian clears his throat.


    ?I think I''ll go get some breakfast.¡°


    My hands instinctively come up around her middle. It''s soft when she''s sitting like this.


    ?Caden made it?¡° she asks, her upper body twisted so she can look into my face, one of my hands now resting on her hip.


    ?Yes.¡°


    ?I''m glad. Not that I had any doubt.¡°


    She gives me another light kiss.


    ?How was your party?¡° I ask her.


    ?Not bad.¡°


    She doesn''t seem to be interested in saying any more about it.


    ?Who was that?¡° she asks me.


    ?Adrian. He''s Caden''s best friend.¡°


    ?Oh. It''s nice that he''s here.¡°


    ?Yeah, especially because he lives in Chicago now.¡°


    Delilah smells like bodywash and her and a hint of smoke.


    ?He moved there for college?¡°


    I hum in confirmation.


    ?Caden was devastated. The two of them are super close.¡°


    I lean my head back.


    ?Do you have a best friend?¡° I ask her, suddenly curious.


    She frowns just a little.


    ?Hm. I don''t think so. I mean, I have friends, so one of them is probably my best one, but... not like that. Do you?¡°


    I shake my head.


    ?My bad, I think. Caden has always been much better at letting people in. I used to think...¡°


    ?What?¡°


    ?That I''m too selfish for a friendship like that.¡°


    Delilah nods slowly.


    ?I know exactly what you mean. But... I don''t think you''re selfish. You probably just haven''t met the right person yet.¡°


    I lift my brows.


    ?You make it sound like a relationship.¡°


    ?But isn''t it?¡°


    ?I mean... yes. But not a romantic one.¡°


    As I''m saying it, I realize I''m disagreeing with myself.


    I said before I always was jealous of Adrian and Caden. Because they basically were like boyfriends ¨C minus the physical.


    ?Where are your friends?¡° I ask Delilah. ?I mean, where do they live?¡°


    She blinks.


    ?Most of them in Boston. Some here.¡°


    ?Are we friends?¡° I ask her.


    She swallows.


    ?Yes. Right?¡°


    I nod.


    ?Not just friends though.¡°


    She says nothing.


    ?You hurt me last night, Delilah.¡°


    ?I know.¡°


    ?It''s not like I... Look, I know you don''t want the commitment. And even if you did, it''s not like I''d expect you to jump when I call. But I really needed you. And you ditched me for a party.¡°


    I search her eyes. Something''s in there that I don''t like.


    ?I would have been there,¡° I say quietly. ?If it was the other way around. I''d have been there for you.¡°


    ?I know.¡°


    Her voice is raspy.


    ?Leah, I have to tell you something.¡°


    But before she can, Navarro returns and wants to speak to me about Caden''s treatment and when he''ll be released and I can''t postpone that.


    I do look back at Delilah though as I go with the doctor and I swear, what I see in her eyes is guilt.

 Chapter Seven

    The next day, Caden is transferred to Intermediate ICU and we''re allowed to visit him as much as we like ¨C we can even stay night. Navarro says it would be good to, because Caden is now likely experiencing a lot of inner turmoil ¨C mentally and physically, a heart transplant is challenging. To say the least.


    So I spend the better part of my days in a hospital room with my baby brother, learning together with him how to take his temperature and measure his pulse and heartrate, what he should eat and how much weight he should gain and what things to avoid.


    I''ve never been more glad for Adrian. He''s there almost as much as I am, reluctant to leave Caden''s side.


    ?My mam¨¢''s mad at me,¡° he says. ?For never being there. But my dad gets it. He''s had a best friend too.¡°


    Caden looks at him with curious eyes.


    It''s very nice to see him without a breathing machine and painkillers moderate enough to not completely cloud his brain.


    ?He died,¡° Adrian shrugs. ?OD. Pap¨¢ says he had it coming.¡°


    Caden and I exchange a short look at this.


    ?It''s been a long time. I think they were, like ¨C twenty-something. But I know that Pap¨¢ still thinks about him.¡°


    ?What was his name?¡° Caden asks.


    ?Richie.¡°


    ?Not Mexican?¡°


    Adrian shakes his head.


    ?That''s why their families didn''t really liked their friendship much. But they didn''t care.¡°


    He grins, almost proud. Rules never really got along with him.


    ?Seems like my old man used to be cool.¡°


    Caden frowns.


    ?I thought your family likes me.¡°


    ?They do. Mam¨¢ adores you. Pap¨¢ thinks you''re gay and considering that, he likes you well enough.¡°


    Rolling his eyes, Caden snorts.


    ?Isn''t that nice of him.¡°


    The days are blurring, always the same.


    When Caden experiences his first brief period of rejection, I almost have a full-blown mental breakdown, while Adrian tries to tell me that Navarro told us this would likely happen and as long as it''s brief, there''s nothing to worry about.


    Caden gets through and for a while, we have to follow a strict hygiene routine so we won''t infect him with something his body can''t handle at the moment.


    Delilah comes to visit every other day, mostly just joking with Caden (who, interesting enough, doesn''t like her that much) and mock-flirting with Adrian (who tells me she''s smoking hot).


    She holds my hand and one time, we manage to find a quiet corner (getting coffee) and make out at the hospital.


    ?What did you want to tell me?¡° I ask her, still panting.


    ?I''ll tell you later,¡° she says, kissing me once more.


    It''s my mother who Navarro tells first that Caden is ready to be discharged.


    ?He''ll need a lot of attention,¡° she says. ?Lots of supervision and precautions and clinic-days twice a week. Maybe it would be better if he''d live with me.¡°


    ?He''s coming with me. I don''t trust you with all that,¡° I say and Caden frowns at us.


    ?Isn''t it my decision?¡°


    For a brief moment, my mother and I look at each other.


    ?Well, honey. Where do you want to live?¡° she asks him.


    I hold my breath as he glances up at her. For a second, I''m standing on the edge of a cliff.


    ?Sorry, mom. I love you. But I''ll go with Leah.¡°


    ?It''s hard,¡° I tell Delilah. She''s sitting on my couch, hands washed and legs curled under her body.


    ?I mean, not that I''m complaining. But those clinic-days ¨C they really are days. Our mother takes him on Thursdays now,¡° I say.


    ?How long will he need to do those?¡°


    ?From now on, once a week... like about three weeks, I think. Then once a month.¡°


    Delilah smiles at me. She''s wearing eyeliner today. I trace the left wing with my eyes.


    ?But he''s doing okay?¡°


    ?Yeah. He''s alright. I mean... we had a little fight yesterday. He wants to go out.¡°


    ?Clubbing?¡°


    ?What? No. Leave the house, I mean.¡°


    ?Oh. Isn''t he allowed to?¡°


    ?Well, he shouldn''t. Right now, a simple cold could potentially be fatal.¡°


    ?Isn''t he always going to be at higher risk for infection? I mean, he''ll have to take those suppressants for the rest of his life, doesn''t he?¡°


    Delilah quickly became a semi-expert on transplants. Afterall, she''s done the crash course with me.


    ?Yes. But now is worse. He''s not fully healed and I think ¨C I mean, they''ll change the medication again.¡°


    They keep changing it. I never really understand why exactly. Caden is fine. No second episode of rejection.


    Delilah hums and I watch her.


    ?Delilah?¡°


    She tilts her head.


    ?I was thinking... maybe we could go to the movies together. Tomorrow. Adrian will be here and Caden asked for some space, so...¡°


    As if that''d be the reason why I''m asking her.


    She lowers her gaze.


    ?You can pick the movie,¡° I say, heart beating.


    ?Leah, what I wanted to tell you ¨C please don''t hate me, okay?¡°


    Something in her voice, perhaps that faint tremble, tells me that this is going to be bad. My heartbeat is kicking.


    ?I already don''t like this.¡°


    Delilah glances at me and I wish she wouldn''t look so guilty. I wish she wouldn''t look like someone who is about to rip a heart out. Or blast it to pieces.


    ?What is it?¡°


    ?I''m... I didn''t actually move to New York. Not permanently. I''m just here because of an exchange program. I was hoping to make some connections.¡°This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I stare at her. My thoughts are racing, spinning.


    ?But... I thought you came here to become an actress.¡°


    Delilah smiles sadly.


    ?Yes, that''s my dream. But I''m actually still enrolled at a school in Boston. I''m here for the summer only. I''ll leave at the end of August.¡°


    I''m not sure my brain is able to process what she just told me.


    ?Why didn''t you tell me?¡°


    She bites her lip.


    ?I don''t know, honestly. I just... at first, I thought you wouldn''t want to get to know me if I did. And then the time was never right."


    ?The time was never right?¡°


    My voice has grown louder. My heart is pounding in my ears.


    ?I didn''t want to tell you while your brother''s life was on the line,¡° she says, defensive and pleading.


    ?Yeah, better drag it out so that it really hurts when you do.¡°


    We stare at each other. The air between us is made entirely of stone.


    ?I''m sorry,¡° Delilah says quietly.


    ?Was that fun for you? Did you enjoy playing with me?¡°


    I can''t lower my voice. What I really want to do is scream.


    Defiance flickers in Delilah''s gaze.


    ?I didn''t play with you, Leah. We''re not a couple. Yes, I should have told you. But it''s not like I ever promised you anything.¡°


    There is a distinct ringing in my ears.


    ?Get out,¡° I say.


    She stands up, smoothing down her shirt.


    ?If you don''t want to see me again, I understand. But I''d like to. So let me know.¡°


    With that, she leaves, door falling shut behind her.


    When I was twelve, I told my mother she had to leave Carson for the first time.


    I sat next to her on the couch and said, mom, he hurts you. That obviously means the relationship is bad. Even twelve-year-old me knew that much.


    My mother, arms blue, rubbed my back and told me it wasn''t possible. She couldn''t leave him ¨C he provided for us. And it wouldn''t happen again.


    But it always happens again, I said. My mother kissed my cheek and said it was alright. That she was fine and that he only did it when he was drunk.


    What it if he hurts us?, I asked, meaning Caden and I. Swallowing hard, my mother smiled at me.


    That will never happen, she said. I promise you.


    She was wrong, but she didn''t know that at the time.


    It isn''t so bad, she told me, braiding my hair. There are other women that have it way worse, sweetie.


    But just because others had it worse, it didn''t mean we had it good, I responded, one hand on my mother''s leg.


    We''re fine, she said, squeezing my hand.


    And I believed her.


    I don''t tell anyone about what Delilah told me. I tell myself it''s because I don''t want to worry Caden and not because I''m ashamed.


    At work, I''m distracted. I think about Delilah all the time.  It''s coming to a point where I seriously consider sneaking some of the painkillers that Caden no longer uses.


    Before I can do that though, Caden gets a fever.


    ?Are you in pain?¡° I ask him, hand pressed against his forehead, heart fluttering.


    He shakes his head.


    ?Just tired.¡°


    ?We have to get you to the hospital.¡°


    It might be an infection, which would be bad, or it might be an episode of rejection, which would be horrible.


    Caden is rushed to the hospital and they usher me out of the room while they''re taking blood samples and performing a biopsy.


    In the waiting room, I break.


    And with that I mean, I call Delilah.


    ?Caden''s in the hospital,¡° I tell her.


    ?What happened?¡°


    ?He has a fever. They don''t know why yet.¡°


    ?I''m coming,¡° she says and so she does.


    When I see her, it''s like some chemical reaction in my brain goes crazy, some floodgates breaking down and endorphines plus some hormone that makes you weak in the knees rushing through my system.


    She comes over and hugs me and I cling to her.


    She asks me about Caden and I tell her there''s no news yet and then she draws back a little to look into my face.


    ?Are you still mad at me?¡°


    I swallow.


    I don''t know. All I know is...


    ?It doesn''t matter,¡° I say.


    It''s just an infection.


    ?We''ll keep him here for a day or two, then I''m sure he''ll be fine to go home.¡°


    Navarro smiles at me, bear eyes twinkling. Delilah squeezes my hand.


    ?That''s good,¡° she says.


    She doesn''t even ask me, just comes back to my place with me.


    I close the door behind us and try to deny my beating heart as I always do. When Delilah toes off her shoes and then moves in to kiss me, I pull back.


    ?We should probably just be friends,¡° I say.


    We stare at each other.


    ?Oh. Sure. I can be friends,¡° she says, but doesn''t move away.


    Which, admittedly, would be difficult with how I''m holding her wrists in a dead-lock. I let go of them to grab her face, our mouths colliding.


    It''s a bad kiss. No finesse. Too much teeth.


    But I don''t care.


    I push her up against the wall and she makes sounds like a fucking kitten, biting my lip.


    This is probably wrong. Yet what do I know about right or wrong?


    All I know is that she''s here and that nothing has ever felt as good as touching her.


    Her hands card through my hair, momentarily slowing us down, pushing it out of my face.


    ?You''re gorgeous,¡° she says and I pull her hands away and walk her to the couch.


    She smiles at me and reaches for my face again.


    ?I -¡°


    ?Strip,¡° I tell her and she stills for a moment. Her eyes gaze into mine, searching for something I can''t name and don''t want to think about.


    ?Whatever you want, darling.¡°


    Delilah finds me in the kitchen making coffee, showered and dressed in plain clothes.


    ?Hey.¡°


    She comes up close behind me, almost brushing my skin. The smell of my shampoo on her hair makes the cup in my hand tremble.


    ?Since you didn''t want to join me,¡° (she means the shower ¨C she asked me to shower with her) ?I used your razor,¡° she says.


    I just shrug and lift the cup to my mouth, not drinking.


    ?So we''ll be friends on instagram?¡° I ask.


    Delilah leans with her hip against the counter and tilts her head.


    ?What do you mean?¡°


    ?When you''re gone. Will we be friends on instagram that say happy birthday twice a year?¡°


    Delilah plucks the cup from my hand and loosley wraps her arms around my neck.


    ?You''re overthinking, Leah. We''ll see what we''ll be when the time comes. But right now, we''re not friends on instagram, are we?¡°


    She rubs her nose against mine and part of me wants to fall to the floor. Kneel down and confess to her that I feel like I can''t live without her, that I don''t want her to leave ¨C that I''d do anything to make her stay.


    But this is not how the world works.


    We''re living in the twenty-first century ¨C most of the time, all you''ll get is an Imagine Us. We''re not waiting for each other anymore.


    And wasn''t I the one always saying that''s a blessing?


    ?How is your brother?¡° Anne asks me as I enter the salon, sporting some obvious love bites.


    ?He''s home again.¡°


    The infection was a minor setback, but overall, Navarro said we''re doing great. I want to believe him so badly, it hurts.


    The work day passes by rather quickly, even though I''m plagued by thoughts of Delilah I probably shouldn''t have anymore.


    Like that long-distance relationships are a thing. Boston isn''t that far. We could see each other every month if we wanted to.


    ?Leah?¡°


    I turn back, already halfway out the door.


    To meet Delilah, of course.


    ?Yes?¡°


    Anne beckons me closer.


    ?I have something to tell you,¡° my boss says, adjusting her glasses.


    ?Alright. What is it?¡°


    ?I''ll be moving to Europe in two months,¡° she says, green eyes piercing me.


    ?Oh. Why...?¡°


    ?You know that my husband has been working in London for the last two years. And we thought it would just be temporary, but now they offered him a new contract. He asked me if he should take t. I don''t really want him to, but I know he has to.¡°


    She sighs.


    ?He''ll never get such an opportunity again. I can have another salon in London.¡°


    ?I understand.¡°


    ?It''s mostly becaus of my daughter. I don''t want her to miss out on her dad.¡°


    I swallow and smile.


    I''m never sure if it makes me happy or sad to hear about other people''s healthy families. Families with parents supporting each other and moms wanting their children to be around their dads and dads asking moms about what would be best for the family.


    ?So you''ll close the salon?¡°


    ?I will, if you don''t want to have it.¡°


    I blink at her.


    ?What?¡°


    She smiles, glint in her eyes.


    ?If you want it, I''ll give it to you.¡°


    I smile uncomfortably.


    ?I don''t have the money, Anne.¡°


    ?I''d make you a special price.¡°


    She winks, warm eyes sparkling.


    ?You''ve always been my most diligent employee. Working with you was a delight. If you want to have this salon and make it your own, I''ll make sure you''re able to.¡°


    My mouth is dry.


    ?I don''t know what to say. Thank you, Anne.¡°


    She gives me another one of her kind smiles.


    ?Just think about it.¡°


    Before I can thank her again, Delilah enters the shop.


    For a moment, I can only stare at her. She''s wearing a dress ¨C flowy and pink. Her sneakers are white and I briefly think how only she can pull off Doc Marten''s and all black one moment and pink princess the next.


    ?Why, hello there.¡°


    Anne''s eyes are gleaming.


    ?I''m just here to pick up Leah.¡°


    Delilah smiles at me and I can''t help but beam right back at her. My heart is beating so much faster than it should.


    She''s carrying a small backpack.


    ?You ready?¡° she asks.


    ?Sure.¡°


    I throw Anne one last glance.


    ?You''ll let me know when you made a decision,¡° she says and I nod.

 Chapter Eight

    ?A decision about what?¡° Delilah asks me as we enter the New York afternoon heat.


    I tell her about the salon and Delilah''s eyes widen.


    ?Wow. That''s nice of her.¡°


    ?Yes.¡°


    I look at my worn shoes. Delilah intertwines our fingers.


    ?But you''re not sure.¡°


    It''s not a question.


    I lift my head, only to be bumped into by some business man whose every single taken shit is more important than my entire existence.


    ?No,¡° I say. ?But that''s crazy. I should say yes.¡°


    I think she wants to answer me, but the crowd makes it difficult.


    ?Where are we going?¡° I ask her, clinging to her hand so not to lose her.


    She grins at me.


    ?Surprise.¡°


    It doesn''t take me long to figure out she''s taking me to Central Park and it makes me smile. Today is a nice day for being outside. Warm ¨C almost hot, to be precise ¨C but not scoring and the air isn''t as stale as most of the days.


    ?Here''s nice.¡°


    She picks out a free spot on the lawn and pulls a small blanket out of her backpack.


    ?Very prepared,¡° I comment with a smile and help her lay it out.


    ?Oh, you haven''t seen half of it.¡°


    I''m impressed when she presents me with crackers and strawberries and Nutella and a bottle of champagne.


    I don''t think I''ve ever had real champagne in my life. My mother was always more the pure vodka kind of woman.


    ?I know, you don''t usually drink,¡° Delilah says. ?But I thought we could make today unusal.¡°


    I smile at her and my chest hurts so much that I think I should have Navarro check it out.


    ?I''m down,¡° I say and she grins.


    She didn''t bring glasses, so we share the bottle ¨C after I spilled approximately half of it over the grass, Delilah giggling and gasping.


    ?That was horrible,¡° she says.


    ?I''ve never opened such a bottle before,¡° I defend myself, grinning. ?And you didn''t want to open it,¡° I remind her.


    She smiles sweetly at me and kisses my cheek.


    ?My heroine.¡°


    I roll my eyes and hand her the bottle. Her eyes never leave my face as she takes a generous swig.


    When it''s my turn, I feel like I could taste her on the bubbly liquid. But then she kisses me and now I know what champagne tastes like in her mouth and I feel like I''m truly doomed.


    We eat strawberries with Nutella and crackers with Nutella and I''m starting to think Delilah has some kind of weird food fetish because she keeps kissing me.


    ?You do know that''s gross,¡° I tell her as she licks chocolate cream off my lips.


    ?You don''t think that,¡° she says unconcerned and of course she''s right.


    Sunset is approaching and drunk people are disturbing our bubble. When one creep hits on Delilah, I just lean over and kiss her, the French way, right before his eyes.


    ?You need a third?¡° he asks after a moment of recovery.


    ?Sorry, we''re all set,¡° Delilah says and smiles sweetly.


    We''re lying on our backs, watching the slowly darkening sky, when Delilah asks me: ?Don''t you want to take over the salon because you feel like that would be too permanent?¡°


    I turn my head to her and wonder how she can possibly know that.


    ?You''re scary,¡° I tell her.


    She smiles.


    ?I''d call it intelligent, love,¡° she says and I have to tell her to stop this petname crap.


    I''m not one for petnames.


    We''re not for petnames.


    ?It''s stupid. I''ll probably never get another opportunity like that ever again. She''s more or less giving me the salon as a present,¡° I say.


    Delilah turns her head to look at me. There are some smudges of strawberry juice on her chin.


    ?That''s bullshit. You''ll have a lot of other great opportunities.¡°


    ?Says the daughter of a real estate agent. Or whatever your dad is doing.¡°


    Delilah rolls her eyes.


    ?I think you''re not thinking big enough.¡°


    ?I''m thinking about paying rent, Delilah.¡°


    ?That''s what I mean. I know that you''re not as privileged as I am, but there is a lot more you can ask for. You could go to college.¡°


    ?No, I can''t. There''s no money for that.¡°


    ?You could take on a student loan. I''m sure you''d be able to pay it back before you''re thirty-five.¡°


    I shake my head.


    ?I''m not like you. I can''t just trust everything''s going to turn out alright. If I mess up, my whole existence is at stake.¡°


    I turn to her, meet her eyes.


    ?I worked my ass off to be where I am now. I''m paying rent myself, I''m paying for food and clothes and everything. The only thing my mother gives me money for are Caden''s treatments. That''s the only thing.¡°


    Delilah reaches out and gently brushes my hair back.


    ?I know. And that''s incredible, Leah. But it''s also why I just know that you could go anywhere. Be anything. I think you''re meant for more.¡°


    I snort.


    ?I''m not meant for anything. No one is. There is no grand plan.¡°


    ?Maybe not. But I still think that, if you wanted to, you could be a great physician. Or a lawyer. Or manager. You''re smart, you work hard and you adjust. That''s all you need.¡°


    ?I''m not good with people.¡°


    ?You''re better with people than you think.¡°


    I reach for another strawberry.


    ?Do you believe in free will?¡°


    ?How do you mean that?¡°


    ?I mean... do you think we''re truly free in our decisions? Or do you think that our personality, our genes ¨C whatever ¨C only ever make one choice possible.¡°


    ?Why are you asking that?¡°


    I shrug.


    She frowns, thinking about it. Looking at the sky while I''m looking at her.


    ?I don''t think it matters, to be honest. It feels like we''re making the decisions. If it''s truly determined what we want, then we can''t change it anyway.¡°


    I look away.


    ?Why are you asking?¡° she repeats.


    ?I''m so afraid to become like my mother,¡° I say.


    Delilah takes my hand, her thumb brushing over my skin.


    ?You''re not like her at all.¡°


    ?You don''t know her.¡°


    ?I know what you told me about her. You''re nothing like that.¡°


    I swallow and gaze at her. I''m afraid there is so much vulnerability in my eyes.


    ?Children with fucked up childhoods grow up to be fucked up adults.¡°


    ?We''re all fucked up.¡°


    ?Not everyone grows up like I did.¡°


    She squeezes my hand.


    ?No. But it doesn''t matter. You''re not your parents, Leah. You''re you.¡°


    ?But they made me.¡°


    ?And they did a good job.¡°


    I snort.


    ?Things aren''t black and white. No one is always good. We all make mistakes.¡°


    I''m not sure what she''s trying to tell me. If she''s talking about my mother.


    ?I wonder who I''d be if they would have been better parents.¡°


    ?You think you''d be a better person. But what about Caden?¡°


    I look at her.


    ?What about him?¡°


    ?Isn''t he a good person?¡°


    ?Yes. Of course. But...¡°


    ?But?¡°


    ?That''s different.¡°


    ?Why?¡°


    ?Because ¨C he is different. No one could ever make him do something bad. I mean, truly  bad.¡°


    ?Everyone is capable of doing truly bad things,¡° Delilah says.


    ?Who''s the pessimist now?¡°


    She smiles at me.


    ?No one but you decides who you are, Leah,¡° she says.


    I kiss her, mostly because I don''t want to talk about this anymore.


    She kisses me back, tasting like chocolate and strawberries and now I''m kissing her because I don''t want to stop.


    ?I wish we wouldn''t be in public,¡° she whispers.


    I hum and we''re walking a thin line between decent and absolutely indecent. The creep from earlier would have been delighted.


    ?You want to get a cab?¡° she asks, grinning.


    ?If you want to,¡° I say, rather destracted by the strap of her dress that keeps falling off her shoulder.


    ?We haven''t made out in the back of a cab yet.¡°


    I laugh.


    ?Is that on your bucket list or what?¡°


    She grins and nips on my bottom lip.


    ?Most definitely.¡°


    Half of my mother''s cups and glasses look like they were plastic. Maybe she lied to me about the job. Her apartment doesn''t look like she''d spend any money on it.


    ?My place is nearer his college,¡° she says, putting a brownie on a small plate that''s chipped and pushes it over to me.


    The brownie''s smell is assaulting my nostrils.


    ?I don''t care. Caden stays with me.¡°


    She hands me a fork.


    ?I always baked those on your birthday,¡° she says as if I didn''t know.


    ?Yeah.¡°


    They''re just chocolate brownies. It''s what every mom makes for her kids.


    Shows how very much not creative my mother is.


    ?Do you remember when you turned twelve?¡° she asks me, smiling reverently.


    ?I''m not here to reminisce.¡°


    I''m here because, frankly, I need her money for the meds and I felt like I had to come. To somehow pay back.


    ?I bought one of those fancy cakes for you, with fondant and marzipan. We went to the zoo together, do you remember? Just Cades, you and I. I brought the brownies and we almost couldn''t seperate Caden from this goat he took a liking to. To console him...¡°


    ?I gave him two brownies,¡° I say.


    ?Yes. And then he had to puke.¡°


    My mother laughs.


    ?Right in front of the monkeys enclosure. Everyone was staring at us.¡°


    I haven''t thought about this day in forever. But now that I do...


    I swallow thickly.


    ?That was a good day,¡° she says.


    It''s what I was thinking.


    ?Honey, it''s really not fair you''re paying rent for yourself and your brother.¡°


    ?Caden isn''t working. He has, like, three hundred dollars.¡°


    ?I can pay his part.¡°


    I give her a look.


    ?Can you now? It doesn''t really look like it.¡°


    She frowns lightly.


    ?I''m saving most of my money for you. I don''t want you to think I can''t support you. I can, honey. I promise. You just have to let me.¡°


    ?We don''t need you.¡°


    ?I''m not saying you need me. I''m just saying I could make things easier for you.¡°


    I stare at her.


    ?I''ll take over Anne''s salon.¡°


    ?Oh. Wow. Congrats, sweetie.¡°


    ?It means I''ll make more money.¡°


    I feel the need to get my point across.


    ?Yes. That''s great.¡°


    I stare at the brownie. It''s staring back at me.


    ?It is.¡°


    ?Do you need me to help you around the house then? It surely means you''ll have to work more.¡°


    ?I got it,¡° I snap.


    Part of me doesn''t even know why I''m acting like that. My mother sighs.


    ?Alright. Give me a call if you change your mind.¡°


    I''m greeted by the sweet singing voice of my brother and the smell of melting cheese as I slip through the door to my apartment.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I''ve always thought it so unfair that I can''t sing for shit while Caden sounds actually good. I mean, I doubt he''ll be the next Shawn Mendes, but no neighbour has yet screamed through our closed door for him to please stop singing.


    ?I made like a pasta bake,¡° he greets me and I hug him.


    He''s gained back most of the weight he lost, so he''s just thin now, not emaciated.


    We eat in front of the TV and I get a second helping because ¨C well. Pasta and cheese. Do I have to say more?


    ?Leah, I want to go out again,¡° Caden says.


    I frown.


    ?What do you mean?¡°


    ?Adrian will leave next week and we haven''t done anything fun together yet.¡°


    I wait for him to continue.


    ?I just... I don''t know, want to get ice cream. Maybe hang out at the park or something. Have a sleepover.¡°


    My face seems to say it all.


    ?Navarro said it''s okay. It''s not like I''ll have to stay locked up forever. I''m as healthy as it''ll get. I want to have a life again.¡°


    ?You''ve never had a life in the first place.¡°


    He tosses a pillow at me, but laughs.


    ?Okay, but my best friend is here. For another seven days. I really, really want to make them count.¡°


    I wonder if this is Caden feeling like he might die any day.


    ?What if you get sick again?¡°


    He shrugs.


    ?Then I''ll have to go to the hospital.¡°


    ?Your immunosystem is shit. If you catch the flu, you could die.¡°


    ?Leah, it''s August.¡°


    I sigh, rubbing my face.


    ?I don''t like the idea.¡°


    He tilts his head and makes his puppy dog eyes.


    ?Please? I''m feeling better than ever, honestly. This heart is actually working like it should and I know ¨C look, I know there are risks. But there always will be. And I can''t stay in here forever. I''ll go crazy.¡°


    I know he''s right.


    ?Okay, but -¡°


    He''s sweeping me into his arms and I have to fight for my freedom.


    ?I''m not done! But you have to promise me not to be stupid. No alocohol, no drugs. No smoking, Caden. Understood?¡°


    He gives me a frown.


    ?I''m not stupid. I want to keep this heart too, you know.¡°


    ?Okay. Good.¡°


    The thing is, I know how Adrian is. I love him, but I also wouldn''t put it past him to offer Caden some cigarettes to celebrate his survival.


    ?What about the sleepover?¡°


    I sigh.


    ?I don''t like it. But if you promise to stay in...¡°


    ?We would. Just playing video games and stuff.¡°


    He''s grinning at me widely and showing off a little bit of basil stuck in his teeth and maybe, I did make the right decision.


    ?Keep them short though,¡° I say, eyeing Delilah a little worriedly.


    She laughs.


    ?No, I was planning on magically growing them out.¡°


    I blush a little.


    ?Fake nails are a thing, aren''t they?¡°


    With a grin, she flops down next to me on the bed, dark green nailpolish in hand.


    ?They are, but I''m not a nail stylist.¡°


    I didn''t expect Delilah painting my nails to be so meditative, but it is. I watch her, all concentrated, one hand gently holding mine.


    It''s been ages since I''ve last worn nail polish.


    ?Why green?¡° I ask her.


    She glances at me.


    ?Didn''t you say you''re a Slytherin?¡°


    I swallow.


    I did mention that. Casually. Once.


    ?I did.¡°


    She grins.


    ?So. Even though I don''t believe that.¡°


    ?What?¡°


    ?No way you''re a Slytherin.¡°


    ?What do you think I am?¡°


    ?Ravenclaw at best. Probably Hufflepuff.¡°


    She smiles at my nails.


    ?I am not a Hufflepuff.¡°


    ?Sure, darling.¡°


    Before I can ask her what her house is, a knock on the door interrupts us.


    A guy in a white shirt and even whiter shoes opens.


    ?Oh. Am I bothering you?¡°


    His eyes dart from me to Delilah.


    ?A little,¡° she says, smiling at him.


    ?I''ll make it short.¡°


    He winks at her as if he''d know her well. I wonder if he does.


    ?There''s a party tonight at my place. All the interesting people will be there.¡°


    He winks at her again. He probably thinks it looks cool. I''m tempted to tell him it resembles a twitch of his eyes. Maybe it is. He should get that checked out.


    ?I''m with Leah tonight,¡° Delilah says and I can''t suppress a smug grin.


    Mr. White Shoes doesn''t even bat a lash.


    ?Cool. Bring her. You''ll love it,¡° he tells me, eyes instantly back on Delilah.


    ?We''ll think about it,¡° Delilah says, clearly evasive.


    ?I''ll text you the adress.¡°


    ?I know your adress.¡°


    ?Just in case.¡°


    One last wink slash twitch of his eye and he leaves us alone.


    ?Is he always winking this much?¡° I ask.


    Delilah grins wryly.


    ?Yes. Except for when he''s drunk. Then it''s twice as much.¡°


    ?Jesus.¡°


    ?Yeah.¡°


    ?So he''s got a crush on you,¡° I say.


    ?I don''t think so. He''s gay.¡°


    ?He didn''t really seem gay to me.¡°


    Delilah lies down next to me.


    ?I''m almost sure that he''s looking for a beard so he can finally fuck his expensive rent-boys in peace. Without his parents always asking about a girlfriend,¡° she clarifies.


    ?Really? Are you just making that up?¡°


    She winks at me and we both have to laugh.


    ?Who knows?¡°


    I surely don''t and I really don''t care that much when she starts kissing me.


    ?Watch your nails,¡° she breathes.


    ?Get creative, then,¡° I tell her and regret it the next moment, when she accepts the challenge with a lift of her eyebrows and slides from the bed, kneeling, motioning for me to sit on the edge.


    ?Hands off,¡° she tells me and I take silent pity on the winking guy.


    If he only knew how lost his case is.


    It''s been a long time since I''ve last visited a rich kid''s house. And I''ve never been at a house like this before.


    It''s a house that could easily be inhabited by a Hollywood actress or maybe one of those pop singers Caden secretly loves.


    ?Maybe this was a mistake,¡° I say, nervously shifting, staring up at this mansion.


    Delilah frowns at me.


    ?You wanted to go,¡° she reminds me.


    It''s true. Delilah didn''t. But I insisted, because... I''ve never met her friends. I don''t know anything about the people she''s hanging out with here, in New York.


    ?We can still go back to your place,¡° she says, tugging at my fingers.


    ?No way.¡°


    And with that, I drag her behind me, right inside the lion''s den.


    ?Delilah!¡°


    Everyone here seems to know her.


    While I''m busy acclimating, taking in the high ceilings and many people and stench of richness and alcohol, Delilah is being hugged and greeted and kissed and I find myself pushed aside, not quite able to keep up.


    ?And who are you?¡° one of the guys asks me, a red-head with a beer in his hand.


    ?I''m Leah,¡° I say and try to reclaim my place at Delilah''s side.


    ?I have to introduce you to Jackson. He''ll love you, Dee,¡° another guy says and Delilah throws me an apologetic look before she''s gone, the large house swallowing her whole.


    I must look rather lost because the ginger takes pity on me.


    ?Come on, I''ll show you around.¡°


    With that he means, he shows me the way to something that probably qualifies as a kitchen, but is as big as my whole apartment.


    ?Hey, babe.¡°


    My companion kisses a girl leaning against the counter full of bottles.


    ?Who''s that?¡°


    The girl smiles at me, friendly.


    ?Leah, meet May.¡°


    ?Hi,¡° I say, beyond uncomfortable.


    May flicks her curtain of long black hair back and hugs me.


    ?So nice to meet you. Have a drink with me.¡°


    Her boyfriend vanishes while she pours me a vodka soda.


    ?He has to kiss a few asses,¡° she says as if I''d know what she''s talking about.


    Seeing my clueless expression, she explains: ?He wants to be a producer. That''s why he''s sucking up to all those rich guys. I''m just here for moral support. And to drink, of course.¡°


    I swallow and try for a smile.


    ?What brings you here?¡° she asks.


    It must be obvious that I don''t belong.


    ?I''m here with my... friend.¡°


    May gives me a knowing smile.


    ?And who might that be?¡°


    ?Delilah. Do you know her?¡°


    ?Delilah Carter?¡°


    I''m shocked as I realize I don''t know. I don''t know her lastname.


    I tilt my glass in my hand, just enough to make the ice cubes clink together.


    ?About my height. Dark hair.¡°


    ?Gorgeous?¡°


    I nod.


    ?Oh. Yes, I know her.¡°


    ?Is she a friend of yours?¡° I ask her.


    ?No, no. Chris ¨C my boyfriend ¨C knows her because she''s trying to impress the same people he is.¡°


    May gives me a curious look.


    Her eyeshadow is applied very professionally, I think. But her lipstick is already a little smudged.


    ?I met her at work.¡°


    ?What do you do?¡°


    She takes a sip from her own drink.


    ?I''m a hairdresser,¡° I say and lift my chin.


    She doesn''t bat a lash.


    ?That''s cool. I''d need a haircut. Maybe you could slip me the adress.¡°


    ?You''re hair is fine,¡° I say and it doesn''t really sound like the compliment it was meant as.


    But May just shrugs.


    ?It''s the Chinese genes.¡°


    ?Were you born in China?¡° I ask and decide to finally take a swig from my own glass.


    The tang of alcohol calms my nerves.


    ?Yeah, but my family moved here when I was... not even a year old.¡°


    We sip our drinks for a moment and I try not to be too obvious in my amazement of this house.


    ?So, you and Delilah... you''re friends?¡°


    May has tilted her head.


    I look into my glass. The ice is half molten now.


    ?Something like that.¡°


    ?So you''re having sex?¡°


    I glance up at her.


    In my experience, it''s unusal for straight people to so readily read between the lines ¨C especially when it''s girls. You could make out right in front of their eyes and they''d think you''re just besties.


    But maybe it''s different with rich people. Or maybe May isn''t straight.


    ?Why are you asking me that?¡°


    May reaches out and squeezes my arm.


    ?It''s none of my business. Just... do you know Delilah well?¡°


    Good question. Do I?


    I know how much she loves chocolate. I know she doesn''t know much about Harry Potter but watched every Game of Thrones season in two days. I know how she likes to be kissed.


    But does that mean I know her?


    What about her childhood? What about her family, her old friends? Do I know anything about her life at all?


    ?I feel like I do,¡° I finally say, not quite sure if I''m being honest.


    May regards me with an unsettling look.


    My heart starts beating in my chest, almost like it used to when I was lying in my bed and listening for heavy footsteps, for loud voices.


    ?I should probably go find her,¡° I say and put my drink down.


    ?Okay. I''ll be here,¡° May says, but I''m already on my way.


    Someone grabs my arm on my way to the stairs, but I just pull it away and ignore him.


    There are too many rooms in this house. I recognize the song that is playing. The bass seems to be resonating in my bones.


    I open doors and find people gathered around tables, smoking and making out and one time, I find two guys and a girl sniffing white powder, not even noticing me looking.


    ?I could take you there some time,¡° a deep voice says and part of me knows what I''ll see before I actually do.


    They''re not even in a room. They are standing in front of an open door, grinning at each other.


    He''s taller than her. Strong muscles and sandy blond hair. The embodiment of white male privilege.


    ?Sounds great,¡° Delilah says and she does so in her sweet voice.


    He doesn''t hesitate. Leans down and pulls her close and kisses her.


    And she kisses him back.


    They''re wrapped around each other, looking beautiful together and I can feel my skin crack, my heart tear. I turn around and flee, a ringing in my ear.


    The next door is a bathroom. I stumble inside and grab the sink, my knuckles as white as the china.


    ?You didn''t,¡° I whisper to my reflection.


    I don''t know whom I''m talking to ¨C her or myself.


    ?Leah?¡°


    It''s Delilah.


    ?Get out.¡°


    She doesn''t.


    ?Leah, come on.¡°


    Her words make me whirl around.


    ?Come on? Come on, what?¡°


    I can''t help my trembling voice.


    She swallows.


    ?I told you we''re not like that,¡° she says, quietly.


    ?Not like what, Delilah?¡°


    ?Not a fucking couple!¡°


    She flinches back at the sight of my stare.


    ?You''re a fucking liar.¡°


    ?I never said we were exclusive.¡°


    I stare at her. Everything is crumbling around me.


    ?So that''s how you manipulate luck, huh? By sleeping your way around until you finally fuck the right one?¡°


    Delilah slaps me.


    Her palm on my cheek stings. Hair is stuck to my face.


    ?You''re a lying slut. Get the fuck out of my face,¡° I say.


    I think her lip is trembling as she takes a step back.


    ?Go to hell, Leah.¡°


    I don''t have to. I''m already there.


    She storms out on me and I sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around my body.


    I can''t do anything about the surges of horror crashing over me, about the pain in my chest. My legs won''t carry me, my knees are bruising against the hard tiles.


    I''m sobbing, forehead pressed against the floor.


    I have no idea for how long I am lying on this bathroom floor ¨C it might have been ten minutes or two hours. But eventually, May finds me.


    ?Oh, shit. Come on. Come on, baby. Let''s get you home.¡°


    She gathers my remaining pieces and pulls them up from the floor. Then she guides me through the disgusting house and calls a cab.


    ?You have to tell me your adress, okay?¡°


    She only has to ask me twice before I give it to her.


    The whole way home, she doesn''t talk. Just pets my shoulder.


    ?I''ll help you get in. Do you live alone?¡°


    I shake my head.


    But Caden isn''t here tonight ¨C he''s at Adrian''s. I actually manage to feel thankful for that.


    ?I''ll stay with you,¡° May says, taking off her shoes in my shitty apartment.


    ?No. I''m okay,¡° I say with what little make up I had been wearing smeared all over my face and neck, hair a complete mess and snot on my nose.


    She gives me a long look.


    ?Can I call someone for you then?¡°


    I shake my head.


    ?You shouldn''t be alone right now,¡° she decides and stays.


    ?Take a shower,¡° she tells me and I do.


    I break down under the stream once more, sitting down, hugging my knees to my chest.


    ?I''ll sleep on your couch, alright?¡°


    I nod and then disappear into my room to go cry myself to sleep.


    I''m woken up by the smell of coffee and my eyes hurting.


    I don''t think I have ever cried this much since I''m older than ten.


    ?Morning,¡° May says, moving around in my kitchen as if she''d be at home here.


    ?I could make some pancakes for us,¡° she says. ?Sundays are pancake days, right?¡°


    I shrug. I honestly couldn''t care less.


    My face hurts and I look like I''d have fallen into a bee hive, all swollen and blotchy.


    ?Do you want to talk about it?¡° May asks as she stirs the dough.


    ?She was making out with someone else. End of story.¡°


    I cling to my cup as if it could somehow return my life force.


    ?You made it sound like things were casual,¡° May says cautiously.


    She won''t drop it unless I shut her up.


    So I do.


    ?I''m madly in love with her and she''ll leave in two weeks and was apparently sleeping with other people the whole time I thought we were together.¡°


    May gives me a look.


    ?I feel like that calls for more than just pancakes.¡°


    Caden comes back around three PM and I don''t want to know what he''s thinking as he walks in on his sister and a complete stranger being wasted on wine on a Sunday afternoon, the whole apartment smelling of pancakes.


    ?Hello?¡°


    His eyes wander from May to me.


    ?Hi, Cades. You okay?¡°


    I try my very best not to slur my words and fail gloriously.


    ?I''m good. What about you though?¡°


    I want to get up from the couch, but that seems very difficult all of a sudden.


    ?You''re the brother?¡°


    May blinks at me.


    ?He''s black. Does that mean your mom cheated or...?¡°


    ?He''s my half brother,¡° I explain, leaning close to May, then losing my balance and swaying into her.


    ?But we''re basically totally siblings because both our fathers were absolute assholes.¡°


    I laugh as if it was in any way funny and May is laughing with me and Caden seems to contemplate if the situation calls for him calling 911.


    ?You okay?¡° he asks again and I nod.


    Then I start crying again.


    The first week without Delilah, I don''t make it out of bed. She calls me three times, but I ignore all of them. Neither do I read her texts.


    It takes me all those seven days until I manage to block her number.


    Caden is hurting for me and that scares me. If I''m the reason for him going back to the hospital, I think I''d jump out of the next window.


    He''s cooking for me all the time and insists we watch all the Harry Potter movies. He even reads me parts of the story he started writing at the hospital.


    ?You''re a good writer,¡° I tell him and he smiles at me.


    The day Delilah leaves New York is a day like every other.


    I go to work and then go home and forbid myself to open another bottle of wine. Caden said nothing to me suddenly picking up drinking as my new favorite afternoon activity, but I can see he''s scared.


    So now that Delilah is gone, officially, it''s time for me to drop it again.


    It''s also time for me to make a decision.


    ?Hey, sweetie. How are you?¡°


    Anne treats me like a wounded bird since I''ve first shown up hungover and clearly done with life.


    I couldn''t really get around telling her about Delilah and now I think she''s afraid I might off myself or something.


    ?I''m fine.¡°


    I give her a reassuring smile and get to work.


    Only after six hours of cutting hair, I say: ?Anne? Do you have a minute?¡°


    She gazes at me through her glasses and I take a deep breath.


    ?I wanted to thank you again for your generous offer. I really can''t tell you how much it means to me. But I have to refuse. I''m not going to take over the salon.¡°


    Anne smiles at me. It feels sad and proud at the same time.


    ?I can''t say I''m surprised. So what will you do instead?¡°


    I nod slowly. Then look at her.


    ?I''ll go to college.¡°

 Chapter Nine

    Delilah


    The chewing gum in my mouth tastes stale already. I popped it in five minutes ago. I hug one knee to my chest, setting my foot down on the soft, used seat. It''s probably forbidden, but who cares? I''m sure this seat has encountered much worse than the sole of my boot.


    The youngish guy two rows in front of me keeps turning his head.


    When he first did it, I wondered what brought him here. If he''s visiting family in New York, or maybe he''ll meet some friends for a short trip. Maybe he''s there for work.


    He doesn''t look like your typical Boston kid. But maybe he doesn''t live in Boston. Maybe he was actually just visiting Boston and this is his trip home now.


    After he turned for the second time, trying to catch my gaze, I stopped caring and pointedly looked out of the window.


    Seeing the skyscrapers rise at the horizon for the first time sent my heart into overdrive.


    I haven''t been in New York since last year. It was warm then, my shorts clinging to my legs, sweat smudging my make up. I still remember how it felt, having those long locks that got all stringy and disgusting in the heat and humidity.


    The bus pulls up in a parking lot and stops the engine.


    My heart is beating again as I wait for the youngish guy to get out first, following him.


    This time, I''m not greeted by summer heat. Instead, there is a slight chill in the air that almost seems cold after the many hours curled up in a stuffy bus.


    ?Here you go, young lady.¡°


    The driver hands my luggage. He''s in his fifties and sports an ugly beard that can''t quite hide his warm smile.


    ?Thanks,¡° I say, giving him a smile of my own.


    I bet he has a daughter. Probably more than one. I wonder how old they are ¨C if they''re still around to keep him busy or if he started early and they''re already all gone.


    He seems like he''d be sad to see his kids leave, but I know appearances can be deceaving. If you''d saw my parents only once for a couple minutes, you''d think they''re the perfect couple too.


    I grab my way too heavy suitcase and fumble out my new phone (I dropped the old one when I was hammered) and make to call a cab.


    ?Hey, baby.¡°


    I turn my head and lift the phone to my ear, giving the youngish man an apologetic smile.


    ?Hello?¡° some cab driver answers.


    ?Are you new to the city too?¡° the youngish man asks.


    I ignore him and tell the driver my location.


    ?No, I''m actually from here,¡° I tell him after I hung up.


    The man grins at me. His receding hairline follows the example.


    ?Great. Then maybe you could show me around?¡°


    A fist closes around my heart.


    Apparently, I use the same pickup lines as thiry-something creeps.


    ?I''m afraid I can''t.¡°


    ?Oh, come on. Why not?¡°


    ?My brother is in the hospital,¡° I say. ?Heart insuffiency. It''s really bad and I have to be with him.¡°


    The man swallows.


    ?I''m sorry ''bout that.¡°


    I give one wavering smile, then turn away, looking for my cab that I know hasn''t yet arrived.


    ?I could distract you,¡° he says with a bad attempt at seductive.


    One of his greedy hands runs down my arm. I pull it away and give him one of my razor sharp smiles.


    ?I want you to leave now,¡° I say.


    His face changes.


    ?Chill out.¡°


    I almost laugh. Those guys are all the exact same.


    ?I''m chill. Now be nice and leave, please.¡°


    Finally, he does and that''s when my cab arrives.


    ?Those are your keys. The door is a little heavy. You''ll have to pull first, then push.¡°


    I nod at my housemate, who isn''t quite as pretty in real life as she portrays herself online, but still quite dashing.


    ?I''ll head out now,¡° she says.


    I''m not expecting to see her all that often at the apartment.


    The kitchen looks as if no one has used it in ages and the bathroom is stuffed to the brim with cosmetic products.


    My own room is significantly smaller than any of my dorm rooms during the last years was, but I''ll manage. There is a white closet for my clothes and a desk scrammed into a corner. The bed is small, but the mattress neither too hard nor too soft.


    I open the huge window and let my gaze wander over the buzzing streets that are Brooklyn.


    ?Nice to be back,¡° I tell the wind.


    I planned to wait a week or so to get settled. Tomorrow will be my first day at the theatre and I should probably use what''s left of this Sunday to unpack and relax. Maybe put on a face mask or something equally screaming Self Care.


    But I''m here now. I''m in New York, I''m back and I can''t wait.


    It''s been more than a year.


    Thirteen months and one day, to be exact, since I left.  Two weeks longer since I''ve last seen Leah.


    I used to whisper her name into my pillows at Boston (once I whispered it into a Strange Girl''s Boston Pillow ¨C that did not end well), but now, I might get to say it to her face.


    If she still lives in her old apartment, that is.


    If not... well, I guess then I''d have to track down Caden at the community college and that could potentially get awkward.


    I paint my face before I leave my new place. It''s my kind of meditation, I assume.


    And I also want to look good.


    I usually don''t worry about it much ¨C not to sound arrogant, but I know I''m beautiful. Men and women both told me that a million times.


    But today, I feel like I need my armour.


    I listen to the playlist I started putting together when I left New York last summer. It''s a wild mix that goes from the most mainstream Pop to Soul to Alternative with some French songs thrown into it.


    Those are all the songs that remind me of Leah. It might be embarrassing to admit that the playlist has exceeded the five hour mark now.


    I watch my reflection and touch my short hair. I had it cut just last week in an attempt to look exactly like I did when I left.


    Which might be stupid. I don''t really think I''m the same person that I was last year.


    I take the subway to Leah''s apartment and get lost.  I''ve never really been in this part of Brooklyn before and I feel disoriented. For a while, I''m just walking through the streets, gazing at the people around me.


    When I spot a very familiar donut shop, I up my pace.


    My heart is racing in my chest now.


    I almost smile at myself.


    Here I am, acting like I''m sixteen again, fingers trembling as I''m pressing the doorbell. It''s like diving into a d¨¦j¨¤-vu, ascending those dark stairs, the hallway smelling faintly of smoke and unwashed clothes. Standing in front of the achingly familiar door, my heart is beating at my throat.


    It opens ¨C but it''s not Leah.


    ?Delilah?¡°


    Caden looks at me, completely baffled. He somehow appears taller than I remember him.


    Or maybe he just gained some weight.


    ?Hi, Caden. Is Leah here?¡°


    ?What are you doing here?¡° he asks, not stepping aside to let me in.


    ?Shouldn''t you be in Boston?¡°


    ?I''m back.¡°


    I try to peer around him into the apartment.


    ?Leah isn''t here.¡°


    ?Oh. Where is she?¡°This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ?With May.¡°


    He doesn''t explain who May is, so I don''t ask.


    ?Can I wait here, maybe?¡°


    Caden hesitates.


    ?Why are you here?¡°


    I probably should have expected this. I meet his eyes calmly.


    ?Because I miss her,¡° I say and it''s the truth.


    He makes me wait for some more long moments, then finally steps aside.


    ?Be nice,¡° he says and I know that he means a lot more than just being nice.


    I swallow.


    ?Of course,¡° I say.


    Not much has changed since I''ve last been here. The wooden floor is still old and polished smooth from so many feet. It smells like coffee and laundry and ¨C and Leah.


    ?She should be back soon,¡° Caden tells me.


    ?You look good,¡° I say.


    ?I am,¡° he says and for the first time since I arrived, he smiles at me.


    I''ve thought about him a lot. The first year after transplantation is critical and sometimes, I feared he might be dead.


    But here he is, very much alive.


    ?How''s college?¡° I ask him.


    ?It''s normal. Nice to be back.¡°


    ?I''m glad you''re okay.¡°


    Caden frowns at me. Just lightly.


    He means to be nice. But he doesn''t understand what I''m doing here.


    Maybe no one has talked about me in this house for a year. Maybe I was wrong to think Leah missed me.


    Lying slut, is what she called me when I last saw her. Whenever I think about that, I regret coming back.


    But I don''t think I could have stayed in Boston, either.


    ?I''m home,¡° someone shouts.


    My heart stops. It simply stops right in my chest.


    Leah. That''s Leah.


    I get up without consciously deciding to do so. She stops the second she sees me.


    We stare at each other.


    It''s strange ¨C she looks exactly like I remember her and nothing like that at all.


    Her angular face with those incredible cheekbones isn''t quite as symmetric as my brain made it out to be. I forgot how shirts cling to her body ¨C how elegant her torso is. Leah isn''t an elegant person, but she looks like one.


    ?Hi,¡° I say and smile at her.


    It''s a weird smile. There are too many emotions swirling in my chest to be done justice by a smile.


    ?What are you doing here?¡°


    Leah''s voice is hoarse.


    I remember her calling me love. The flashback is so vivid, my knees nearly buckle.


    ?I''m here to see you.¡°


    She just stares. No smile.


    ?I''m back, Leah.¡°


    I take a step toward her.


    It''s like me calling her name made something snap inside her.


    ?Get out.¡°


    ?I -¡°


    ?Leave.¡°


    My feet are frozen to the spot.


    ?Please, let me explain.¡°


    ?Get the hell out!¡°


    She''s yelling now. Yelling at me.


    ?Leah...¡°


    A big hand settles on my shoulder and gently pushes me toward the door. Leah steps aside, not looking at me as I pass her.


    ?You should go,¡° Caden tells me and gives me a look somewhere between pity and accusation as he closes the door in front of my face.


    Leah


    I concentrate on breathing, hardly feeling Caden''s hands rest on my shoulder.


    ?You okay?¡°


    The floor beneath my feet is swaying.


    ?What does she think she''s doing?¡°


    ?I don''t know.¡°


    Caden pulls me close despite my struggles.


    I listen to his steady heartbeat and hold on tight.


    ?What''s she doing here?¡° I whisper against my brother''s chest.


    One second and Delilah turns me into a stupid troll like that. Again.


    ?You don''t have to see her again,¡° he says and I nod.


    ?Right.¡°


    I disentangle myself from him and smooth my hair down. His shirt is crumpled from my face, just a little.


    ?Will you be home for dinner tomorrow?¡° I ask, trying to shake the incident like a snake would shed its old skin.


    ?I''m working late,¡° he says.


    I don''t comment on it.


    I''m still not a fan of Caden working ¨C at a grocery store, of all places. Many, many possibilties to catch some virus or bacteria.


    But he had been adamant.


    ?It''s either that or having mom pay all the bills,¡° he told me and I couldn''t very well argue with that.


    Since I''ve started college, my time is limited. I''m now taking shifts at another hair salon, but it''s not nearly the same as it used to be.


    Ten hours per week just don''t cut it.


    ?You can eat with May,¡° Caden says and I give him a sharp look.


    ?I think I can decide that for myself, thanks.¡°


    He rolls his eyes.


    ?I''ll be at Alex'' for the evening,¡° he says and my mouth opens.


    ?I thought we''d have dinner together.¡°


    Caden tilts his head.


    ?Oh, sorry. I didn''t know.¡°


    ?What do you mean, you didn''t know? You didn''t know I''d like to have dinner with you?¡°


    Caden gives me a bewildered and, frankly, annoyed glance.


    ?Jesus, Leah,¡° is all he says.


    He leaves the apartment and me behind, shutting the door a little louder than necessary.


    ?And she just showed up? Just like that?¡°


    May is staring at me incredulously, the notebook in her lap forgotten.


    ?Yeah. Just like that.¡°


    It''s been three days and I still can''t quite believe it.


    I wish I could say I''ve already brushed it off. But of course I haven''t.


    ?What are you going to do?¡°


    I scrub at a stain on my jeans.


    ?I don''t know. Nothing, I guess.¡°


    ?It''s for the best,¡° May says, squeezing my leg.


    I nod.


    The fact that I''m sitting here with May in my apartment is astonishing enough ¨C regarding the fact that she had to endure me at rock bottom for months.


    After Delilah left, I was a mess. There''s no other way to say it.


    I was crying and drinking and not doing anything except making sure Caden attended his appointments at the hospital. I thought I''d known heartbreak before, when my first boyfriend broke up with me. I was seventeen back then and it felt like the world was ending.


    But it was nothing compared to this.


    What they say, the singers and books and movies ¨C it''s true. Hearbreak is a physical thing. Your heart feels like it would be squeezed by an iron fist that weighs down your chest and sucks the life force out of you.


    I couldn''t listen to any song, any at all, without thinking about her. I couldn''t really eat because everything seemed to taste like nothing, glue clogging my mouth.


    But just when I thought it would never end, I''d always remain stuck in that black hole, it got better.


    Slowly. Gradually. But it did. I applied for colleges and suddenly, I remembered that I had a life.


    My life wasn''t Delilah.


    My universe did not revolve around her. It was time to pick myself up and stop being pathetic.


    That was about six months ago, a little longer even,


    Since then, life got better. Granted, there was still that hole in my chest. It hurt especially at night, when the darkness forced its way inside me and sent my thoughts spinning.


    Listening to music was still difficult ¨C all the lyrics, written just for me. But it was okay. I laughed sometimes. Over time, I started to forget.


    Not really, of course. But I stopped thinking about her all the time.


    Now she''s here and it feels like I''m back at square one. Everything still feels so new and fresh.


    ?Leah?¡°


    I blink, May''s voice ripping me out of my musings.


    ?Yes?¡°


    ?Do you want to come along with me to one of Chris''s plays?¡°


    ?He wrote a play?¡°


    May rolls her eyes.


    ?Nah, we''re not there yet. But he''s involved in the production. Don''t ask me how exactly. And don''t ask him ¨C you''ll be there all night.¡°


    I grin.


    ?Noted. And yeah, sure I would.¡°


    ?Caden?¡°


    ?Hm?¡°


    Disoriented brown eyes find mine. I scowl at him from my place at the kitchen table.


    ?Did you listen to me?¡°


    ?Sorry. Say it again?¡°


    He''s always on his phone lately. Always texting.


    ?Who are you texting? Adrian?¡°


    Caden shoots me a look that borders on hostile.


    ?Seriously?¡°


    I decide not to start an argument about this right now.


    ?I just wanted to let you know I''ll be at the theatre tonight. With May.¡°


    ?Okay, cool. Have fun.¡°


    His eyes return to his phone.


    ?Caden?¡°


    ?What?¡°


    ?We have some leftovers in the fridge and there''s also cereal. I bought your favorite.¡°


    Caden nods, hiding his impatience quite badly.


    ?Okay. I''ll be out though anyway.¡°


    ?Out? Where?¡°


    ?Just for dinner.¡°


    I don''t miss how he''s trying a tad too hard to sound casual.


    ?You won''t be drinking, will you?¡°


    He drops his head against the armrest of the sofa.


    ?No, mom.¡°


    ?This isn''t funny, Caden.¡°


    ?No, it''s not. You''re being a bitch.¡°


    ?I''m not being -¡°


    ?I have to go.¡°


    And with that he storms out on me.


    The theatre Chris is now working at is a nice one. I like that it manages the limbo between small indie company and glamerous mainstream.


    ?We''re sitting over there.¡°


    Surrounded by people of any age group, the light dims and the play begins.


    I''m not very big on poetry or drama or anything like that. I''ve read Othello in school and saw the movie to Romeo and Juliet and that''s about it.


    So I wouldn''t say I necessarily understand what''s going on, but I do find it entertaining.


    Just as I''m starting to really sympathize with the main chracter, another side kick enters the stage.


    My hands are gripping the flesh of my thighs hard enough to leave marks.


    It''s astonishing what bad of luck the universe sometimes throws at you.


    I mean, yes, Delilah wants to be an actress. Yes, she and Chris used to move in the same circles.


    But, really ¨C what are the odds?


    Even just as a minor character, Delilah demands attention. I don''t think anyone can keep her eyes off her.


    Or maybe that''s just me.


    ?Isn''t that...?¡°


    May leans over to me.


    I nod, numb.


    ?Yup.¡°


    ?Shit. Do you want to leave?¡°


    I shake my head. That would just be pathetic, plus ¨C Delilah might see. And I don''t think I''d be able to live that one down.


    The rest of the play seems to stretch on forever while I''m at the edge of my seat, running my hands over my thighs and trying (and failing) not to watch Delilah.


    I''m the first one standing after the curtain call and May follows me to the entrance hall.


    ?How did you like it?¡°


    Chris wraps her up in his arms.


    She smiles at him.


    ?Good job, babe.¡°


    I look away. Happy couples and all that.


    I just want to leave, but Chris can''t and May doesn''t want to go without him and I can''t bring myself to just go alone.


    So, of course, Delilah finds me.


    ?Leah?¡°


    Her eyes on me make me think of the moment you breach the surface of cold water for the first time. Diving in headfirst.


    ?Hi.¡°


    ?I didn''t know you were a fan of Blink.¡°


    ?I''m not. I''m just here with May. Chris''s girlfriend.¡°


    ?That''s nice,¡° she says and her eyes never leave me.


    She''s still wearing the heavy stage makeup, but plain jeans and I can''t believe how anyone could be that beautiful.


    ?Would you like a drink?¡° she asks me.


    A drink is exactly what I would like right now, so I nod. She leads me to the bar, smiling over her shoulder.


    Delilah


    I''m nervous. I''ve just got off stage and back into my normal clothes, and yet now I''m way more nervous than I was the whole evening.


    It''s not like me, but I know how to handle it nonetheless. Not showing your nerves was the first lesson I learned when I started acting.


    I still remember my first coach, an elderly woman with snow white hair and blazing eyes, putting her hands on my small shoulders and tell me: ?Use the energy. Hide the fear.¡°


    Little Delilah took to the advise beautifully and that''s what I do now as well.


    I smile at Leah, who looks like she''d rather be anywhere else than here. With me.


    ?Whiskey on the rocks?¡° I ask.


    Leah arches one of her brows at me that are sharp without her plugging them.


    ?Since when do I drink whiskey?¡°


    I shrug.


    ?I could order you tequila as well, but I felt like whiskey fits the etablissement.¡°


    She blinks at me, then looks away.


    ?Whiskey''s fine.¡°


    I order two and look at Leah.


    As always, her clothes are rather simple ¨C but a little more thoughtfully picked than I''m used to. It''s like she knows how the simple blazer sets off her lean torso. As if she''d know that the jeans were made for her shapely legs.


    ?You look good,¡° I tell her.


    Leah doesn''t look at me.


    ?Thanks.¡°


    I use the energy and hide the fear.


    This isn''t going how I expected it to be.


    I knew Leah would be pissed at me. I didn''t expect her to be happy to see me ¨C not at first.


    But I did expect her to come back without so much of a fight.


    Instead, she kicked me right out. No intention to see me again at all. It''s not something I''m used to and it threw me off, like coming back home only to learn that all the rooms have been redecorated so you can''t find anything.


    But now she''s here.


    ?Cheers.¡°


    Our glasses clink together.


    Leah doesn''t look at me as she chugs the whiskey. I set my own down, glass still half full.


    ?I wish you hadn''t come back.¡°


    I swallow.


    ?I don''t think you do.¡°


    She gives me a look that has me shrivelling.


    No one has ever made me feel ugly the way Leah does right now.


    ?I do, Delilah. I really do.¡°


    I empty my glass.


    ?You''re free to go.¡°


    And there we have it. Of course Leah knows she''s free to go.


    But she can''t.


    Because she doesn''t actually want to.


    ?I hate you,¡° she says quietly.


    ?Do you want to talk?¡° I ask, equally quiet. ?I''d like to talk.¡°


    Leah shakes her head.


    Her long hair looks as soft as I remember it.


    The pain is sharp and sudden, cutting right through me.


    ?I should leave,¡° Leah says and I stop breathing.


    She can''t leave.


    Without hesitation, I put my hand on her knee. Slowly trailing upward, over her thigh.


    She stops breathing.


    ?We don''t have to talk.¡°


    I can see the moment she breaks and in that moment, she looks like she truly hates me, but neither of us cares.


    She kisses me with a fever I''ve never felt in her kisses before ¨C not quite like that.


    I kiss back and wrap my arms around her neck.


    She breaks the kiss and grabs my wrist. I''m dragged to the next bathroom and then pressed up against a the door of a stall.


    It''s quick and dirty and so hot that I can''t breathe.


    I''ve had sex in a public bathroom before, but it wasn''t like this at all. I just remember it to have been uncomfortable ¨C and maybe a little sexy, because I''ve always been a mild exhibionist.


    I like to be watched. Sue me.


    But that''s not what makes this hot.


    It''s clearly Leah.


    I try to kiss her when we''ve zipped our pants up again, but she turns her head away.


    ?This means nothing,¡° she tells me, eyes hard and unforgiving and then she leaves me.


    I take a few more minutes to catch my breath and process what just happened.


    Something cold, cold and slimey is crawling over my skin and I wrap my arms around myself.

 Chapter Ten

    A week later, I''m standing in front of Leah''s apartment once again.


    This time, it''s her who opens.


    We stare at each other for a moment.


    ?Can I come in?¡°


    She hesitates. Then wordlessly steps aside to let me in.


    ?I''ll make coffee,¡° she says and I nod.


    I love this apartment. I loved it from the first time on I was here.


    I don''t think any of my friends would guess that this is my favorite place in New York. They all say I like shiny things and I guess I do.


    But it always smells like coffee and Leah in here.


    ?Here.¡°


    I take the coffee from Leah and smile at her.


    She didn''t give me my favorite mug, but I don''t mention it. I know I''ve lost the right to.


    ?Why are you here, Delilah?¡°


    I blow on my coffee. ?To talk.¡°


    Leah gives me a look. ?I mean, really. Ultimately. What do you want?¡°


    I look at her.


    I wish she''d stop asking questions. I wish we could go back to how it was before I fucked it up.


    Because I know I did. I know I did and I hate myself for it.


    And I don''t really understand why I''m here now, insistent to fix it.


    I just know that I can''t sleep anymore. I couldn''t really sleep for more than a year because something was missing.


    ?To see you again,¡° I say.


    ?You have.¡°


    ?I meant permanently. I want to be in your life again,¡° I tell her.


    Leah shakes her head. ?No. I can''t.¡°


    I swallow. ?Leah, I''m so sorry for what I''ve done. I''ve been... horrible. I know you''re mad at me. I understand.¡°


    ?Mad doesn''t really cut it,¡° she says.


    I close my eyes for a moment.


    Someone really should give me a medal. I''m brilliant when it comes to hurting people.


    ?I''m sorry. I wish I could take it back.¡°


    ?But you can''t.¡°


    ?Yes. So I''ll have to ask you for forgiveness.¡°


    Leah stares into her cup. ?I can''t forgive you. I''m sorry.¡°


    My heart feels offbeat. ?What can I do?¡°


    Now Leah does look at me. ?I don''t think you can do anything. I simply don''t trust you.¡°


    I take a deep breath. ?Leah, I came back for you.¡°


    She turns her head to the side. ?That''s not true.¡°


    ?Yes, it is. I could have taken internships in Boston or LA. But I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with you.¡°


    It looks as if I''d cause Leah physical pain.


    ?Stop, please,¡° she says.


    But I can''t. I have to tell her.


    I reach out and take her hand. ?I know I fucked up. But it doesn''t change the way I feel about you. I get that you can''t just... forget so easily. I want to earn it.¡°


    I don''t know where those words came from.


    ?I''ll earn your forgiveness,¡° I say.


    Leah still won''t look at me.


    ?Say something.¡°


    Now she does. ?I can''t fucking believe you. You''re doing that on purpose, aren''t you? You always have. You just won''t let me go.¡°


    ?I''m not doing this to mess with you.¡°


    ?Really? It feels like you are.¡° She stands up and runs a hand through her hair. Then she turns to me, looking at me accusingly. ?Over a year, Delilah! I''ve worked on getting over you for over a year. And I''m fucking good now, okay? I don''t need you to swoop in and make a mess out of everything again.¡°


    I get up too.


    ?That''s not what I''m doing.¡°


    Leah laughs. It''s such a cold sound that I recoil as if she''d have bitten me.


    ?It''s what you always do.¡°


    Now I can''t hold her gaze anymore.


    Ugly.


    I feel ugly again.


    ?Alright. I''ll go then.¡°


    Leah nods, not looking at me. ?I think you should.¡°


    Already standing in the open door, I turn around, facing her once again.


    ?Did you love me?¡° I ask her.


    The stare she gives me goes right through me, bone and marrow and everything else.


    ?That''s not the question, Delilah.¡°


    I grip the doorknob tightly.


    ?Please leave now,¡° she says.


    I do as I''m told.


    Leah


    May rests her head on my shoulder as we ride the subway back to her place.


    Alcohol is making my head fuzzy and I watch the everchanging lights, smell different perfumes and the reek of whiskey.


    Whiskey.


    ?May?¡°


    ?Hm?¡°


    ?Have you ever got your heart broken?¡°


    She sits up so she can look at me. Her eyeliner is a little smudged and her lipstick even more.


    ?Yes. I was eighteen when I met him. He was Chinese, like me and we bonded instantly. I''ve never... fallen in love so quickly. You know that I don''t believe in love at first sight, but...¡° She shrugs. ?That felt like it. It was the summer of my graduation and he was working at the waffle house me and my friends loved to go to.¡°


    I study her face. She has the look of someone deep in their memories, so deep, they feel like they''re not here anymore.


    ?He was older than me, one year.¡°


    She sighs.


    ?What happened?¡° I ask.


    ?Not much, to be honest. He had a girlfriend. That was it. But I... well. I couldn''t let it go, so...¡° Now she smiles. ?Of course, I didn''t stay away. And neither did he. I''ve hung out with him every other day during that summer.¡°


    ?And then?¡°


    ?Then I moved to New York for college and never saw him again.¡°


    The story sounds incomplete and that proves its truth.


    Real stories always are. They don''t happen like in the movies. Most of the time, there is not a clear beginning and definitely not a well-rounded ending. Those true stories, they just begin randomly and then they end. No conclusion. No climax of the story. They just begin and they end.


    ?I know I probably can''t compare that to your situation,¡° she says, wiping hair out of her face. ?I mean, we''ve never really been anything. But I loved him. As much as he''d let me.¡°


    ?That''s sad,¡° I say.


    ?Kind of. But I made my piece with it.¡°The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ?Did you think about him a lot after you left?¡°


    May frowns a little.


    ?In the beginning, yes. It hurt. I felt like... I missed the greatest opportunity of my life. Like I missed my great love. But I came to realize that I didn''t miss anything. It wasn''t my fault that we never had a chance. He didn''t give us one. Sometimes I like to think he regrets that.¡°


    She smiles, just faintly. ?Or I used to. Now I just hope he''s happy. He''s a great person and deserves the best. I have Chris now and I don''t miss him anymore.¡°


    ?I wish I could be as mature as you are about it,¡° I admit.


    ?Don''t be too hard on yourself. I''ve had years to come to terms with it. And it wasn''t like you and Delilah. It was just a... What If.¡°


    What If. The worst. The absolute worst.


    ?Delilah says she wants me back,¡° I tell the dark window.


    ?But you won''t take her.¡° May sounds sure about it.


    I shake my head.


    ?No,¡° I say, my voice weirdly distant. ?No, I won''t. I don''t think I can live though that again.¡°


    May drapes an arm around my shoulders and squeezes.


    I''m studying at home, trying not to think of Delilah, when the doorbell rings.


    My heart instantly goes into overdrive. It''s not May (she would have texted) and Alex usually doesn''t show up like that either.


    So it''s probably Delilah.


    I take a deep breath and open the door.


    It''s not Delilah.


    But I almost wish it was.


    ?What are you doing here?¡°


    ?Bringing you brownies.¡° My mom tries for her best smile and I let her in, not quite able to simply slam the door.


    ?How is college, honey?¡°


    ?I told you I don''t want you to visit us here,¡° I say, crossing my arms.


    She sets down the tupper ware. ?I know. But I wanted to see you. You haven''t come by in forever.¡°


    I avoid her gaze.


    ?Yeah, I''ve been... busy.¡°


    ?College?¡°


    I nod. That is not even a lie. College does keep me busy ¨C almost more than I would like.


    ?Well, I''m sure you''re doing great. You''ve always been such a smart one.¡°


    I roll my eyes.


    ?As if you could judge that.¡°


    I didn''t quite mean to sound so mean. I wasn''t trying to insinuate that she''s stupid. But she has never had any idea of my academics, not in highschool and not now.


    Her face falls a little.


    I open the box and fish for a brownie. An explosion of chocolate and sugar and butter is hitting my tastebuds and involuntarily, I close my eyes.


    I almost forgot how good these taste.


    ?You like it?¡°


    I nod. ?They''re awesome.¡°


    My mom smiles smugly. ?Yes, I know.¡°


    She doesn''t stay much longer.


    Before she goes, she says: ?Let me know when you can spare a little time. I could cook dinner.¡°


    I nod, slowly. Then, when she''s almost out of the door, I shout after her: ?Thanks, mom.¡°


    It''s already dark and cold outside when I slip into my brother''s room. He''s lying on his bed, phone in hand.


    ?Cades?¡°


    He turns the screen off. ?Yeah?¡°


    I crawl into bed next to him and he makes room for me.


    ?Can''t concentrate?¡°


    I shake my head.


    He sighs deeply. Our shoulders are pressed together. ?If you want to see her, go see her.¡°


    I turn my head. ?Who?¡°


    He laughs. ?Delilah, of course.¡°


    I hide my face behind my forearm. ?I don''t want to see Delilah.¡°


    ?Liar.¡°


    ?I don''t want to want to see her.¡°


    Caden turns his head so he can look at me. ?Okay. But... you know, maybe she''s changed.¡°


    ?That''s what everyone always says before they get cheated on again.¡°


    Caden is quiet for a moment. Then he takes my hand. It''s big and warm and spends comfort like nothing else.


    ?I''m a believer in second chances. Someone ¨C I think they were, like, a hundred-year-old ¨C said that you should always give people a second, but never a third chance.¡°


    I think about it for a moment.


    ?It feels like I''ve already given Delilah more than two chances.¡°


    ?But this is the first time she''s asking you for one, isn''t it?¡°


    I stay silent.


    ?Leah, she moved to New York for you.¡°


    ?She moved to New York because she works here now.¡°


    ?No, I think it''s the other way around.¡°


    I press my forearm against my eyes. ?I can''t do it again, Cades.¡°


    ?Maybe you won''t have to.¡°


    ?I still love her,¡° I whisper into the darkness,


    ?I know. That''s why I think you should talk to her.¡°


    ?It''s why I think I shouldn''t.¡°


    He pauses, but I know he''s about to say something. ?I''ve never seen you like this before. Not with anyone.¡°


    A new surge of pain crashes over me. ?You''re not helping, Caden.¡°


    ?I think this might be worth hurting for.¡°


    I call Delilah a day later.


    ?Leah?¡°


    Just hearing her voice is like everything crashing over me at once.


    ?I thought about it and I''d like to talk.¡°


    ?Oh.Yes. When?¡°


    ?Today?¡°


    It''s a Sunday, so I figured she might be free.


    ?Sure. Should I come over?¡°


    ?No, I thought maybe we could meet at a coffee shop?¡°


    ?Alright. Just text me the adress, yeah?¡°


    Delilah is already waiting for me when I arrive at the coffee shop.


    I can''t help but think she looks like a princess with her black tights and skater skirt, white turtle neck tucked into the skirt.


    ?Hi.¡°


    ?Hey.¡°


    ?I bought you coffee.¡° She smiles at me, unsurely.


    ?Thank you.¡°


    I sit down and clasp the cup, trying to not be stupid.


    ?I''m glad we''re doing this,¡° she says, smiling still.


    I nod. ?Yeah.¡°


    ?I could start with apologizing again,¡° she says.


    I bite my lip and finally look at her. ?I''d rather you explain.¡°


    Her face grows serious. ?Okay. I can try.¡°


    She takes a swig from her coffee (something awfully sweet, from the looks of it) and then looks back at me. ?Could you ask questions, please?¡°


    ?Why didn''t you tell me you''d leave?¡°


    ?I honestly have a hard time recalling that. I think that at first, I thought it didn''t matter and then... I guess I knew that you might end things if I did. And I was afraid of that. So I decided not to tell you. Which is stupid, I know. And I''m sorry for that.¡°


    I take a deep breath.


    ?Why did you lie to me?¡°


    ?About what?¡°


    ?About what I meant to you.¡° My fingers are gripping the cup so tightly now, I''m afraid it''ll break.


    ?I didn''t. Honestly.¡°


    I hate myself so much for still drowning in her eyes. I feel like scratching my own face open just to escape her pull.


    ?Yes you did. You knew I... liked you. And you pretended you felt the same.¡°


    ?No, I...¡° She closes her eyes for a moment.


    ?Okay. So... I thought I was lying to you. But I was actually honest with you and only lying to myself.¡°


    ?What the hell are you talking about?¡° I don''t bother hiding my annoyance with her.


    She looks down. ?I was telling myself what we had was only casual for me. But I think I always knew it wasn''t. It just took me a long time to admit it.¡°


    ?Why?¡°


    ?Because... I didn''t want anything else.¡°


    ?Because you knew you''d have to leave?¡°


    ?Not only. I just... I wasn''t looking for love, Leah. I never have. I don''t want all that crap other girls seem to want. Relationship. Marriage. Children. I don''t want that.¡°


    ?Okay.¡°


    ?But then I met you and... you make me rethink so many things. You''re the first person to ever... make me want to try. You make me want to know everything about you. I''ve never felt that before.¡°


    Her eyes are on me and she looks so honest.


    But I thought she had been honest before. ?How can I trust you? You cheated on me.¡°


    Delilah swallows. ?I understand that you think of it that way and it was definitely wrong, but it didn''t feel like cheating to me. I kept telling myself that things are casual. And you never said anything else either.¡°


    ?I asked you to be my girlfriend.¡°


    ?One time. And when I said no, you acted like it was fine.¡°


    I snort. ?Whatever.¡°


    ?No, honestly, Leah. I didn''t know you''d be that hurt by me hooking up with other people.¡°


    ?If you did, would that have changed anything?¡°


    She pauses. ?I don''t know. But I can promise you, it will be different now.¡°


    I look away.


    ?You can''t forgive me at all?¡° Her voice is quiet.


    I push my hair back.


    My heart is hammering and breaking and I want to scream at her and I want to kiss her and I don''t want to feel the things I''m feeling right now.


    ?Maybe someday. I don''t know.¡°


    She smiles at me. ?I''ll take that for now.¡° She reaches out to take my hand.


    I pull it away.


    ?Leah. We''ve made out already.¡°


    ?That was a mistake.¡°


    She actually has the nerve to look hurt by that.


    ?Okay, if you think so. I don''t think so.¡°


    We''re both silent, sipping our coffee. When I meet her gaze again, she gives me one of her oh so beautiful smiles.


    ?Are you free next Friday? I''d love to take you out.¡°


    I bear the tearing feeling in my chest because there is nothing else I could do.


    ?No, sorry.¡°


    ?Okay, then Saturday?¡° Her smile crumbles.


    ?I can''t, Delilah.¡°


    Her eyes narrow, search my face. I can''t meet her gaze.


    ?Why not?¡°


    My phone buzzes.


    The pieces fall into place in Delilah''s eyes.


    ?There''s someone else.¡°


    I don''t say anything. I don''t have to.


    She looks away. Swallows thickly. ?Who is it?¡°


    ?You don''t know him.¡° My voice is brittle.


    ?How long?¡° She''s looking at me now, eyes shuttered.


    ?We''re not really... we''re not official. But it might be headed that way.¡°


    She nods slowly. Looks at her hands.


    ?Well, I''m still here. And I don''t think there''s anyone better for you than me. But it''s your decision.¡°


    She gets up, graceful as ever and slings her bag over her shoulder.


    ?Give me a call when you miss me, Leah.¡°

 Chapter Eleven

    After my highschool boyfriend broke up with me and I had time to be heartbroken and then indulge in some self-discovery, I didn''t really expect to ever date a guy again. Men exhaust me and they lack the female finesse. I also don''t think they''re as sexy, but that''s just me, I guess.


    So, even after Delilah, I''ve been rather set on dating women.


    Then I met Finn.


    I met him the first day of college and he felt drawn to me instantly ¨C must be the queer vibes. I remember him scooting on the seat next to me in our first class together, blond curls short but messy and big blue eyes way too cheerful. Finn is always like that, I quickly learned.


    He struts around in highwaisted jeans and nailpolish and just smiles at everyone, with very few exceptions.


    I was absolutely convinced he''s gay, so when he asked me if I''d like to go out for coffee with him (in a very date-like fashion), I must have gaped at him like a complete imbecile.


    ?I thought you''re gay,¡° I blurted.


    He just laughed.


    ?Yeah, I get that a lot. But I''m bi, actually. Or pan. I really don''t see the difference, to be honest.¡°


    It''s been a long time since a guy has asked me out or shown any kind of interest in me, really. I''m not the type of girl most guys usually go for. Not to say I''m ugly, but I don''t fit the type of most straight men. I''m too plain and blunt. Not necessarily pretty, not in the way those men like it.


    But Finn seemed very interested.


    I had to turn him down though.


    ?That''s nice of you, but I''m not really dating right now.¡°


    ?But you''re into guys?¡° he wanted to make sure.


    ?Sometimes.¡°


    He smiled. It was a nice smile. I''m sure a lot of boys and girls are suckers for that smile.


    ?Okay, well, then let me know if you start dating again.¡°


    I nodded, still a little overwhelmed.


    He winked at me ¨C not in a creepy way. It was just sweet. ?Nice.¡°


    ?Finn?¡° I called after him. He turned around and looked at me with a faint smile.


    ?Yes?¡°


    ?We can still be friends, right?¡°


    He grinned. ?Of course we can be friends, Leah.¡°


    And so we were. We studied together and had lunch together and sometimes talked about Drag Race (I never really got into it until Delilah insisted we''d watch it together ¨C she''s a super fan) or the best falafel in town.


    Around Christmas time ¨C or, well. More like early November. Now is Christmas time, I guess. Anway, that''s when I leaned over and asked him if he''d like to have coffee with me after class.


    He smiled a very bright smile and said: ?Sure.¡°


    ?Hey,¡° Finn greets me.


    He finally switched his oversized denim jacket for a fluffy winter coat. The temperature keeps dropping.


    ?Hi.¡° We hug and there is this brief awkwardness of two people not knowing if a kiss would be the proper greeting. But we''re not really dating (I think), so no kiss it is.


    ?I know we said we''d go for a walk and I love walks, but it''s really cold,¡° Finn says and I have to agree.


    New York gets cold in the winter.


    ?We could go to my place. If that''s okay with you.¡° He smiles at me and I smile back and say yes, even though I can''t not think of Delilah.


    We walk hand in hand to his place in Williamsburg (of course it is in Williamsburg).


    ?So this is where you live?¡°


    ?Me and Hayden.¡°


    I let my gaze wander over the loft. ?It''s nice.¡° It truly is. Open and bright and with this ratty air of a young person''s home. I think I can spot smudgy wine glasses sitting in the sink.


    ?There he is.¡° A guy a few years older than us appears in the door to what I assume must be the bathroom.


    He''s tall and black and seems like he might be a med student or something equally prestigious.


    ?Hayden, this is Leah. Leah, Hayden.¡°


    ?Hi. Are you two staying in?¡°


    His nod is friendly, but we''re clearly intruding.


    ?Yeah, if that''s okay?¡°


    Hayden grimaces, then nods. ?I''ll go to the library then.¡° He starts gathering a laptop and an impressive amount of notes in a small bag.


    ?Have fun.¡° He gives Finn a pat on the back and rushes through the door.


    ?He''s really nice, actually,¡° Finn tells me, rolling his eyes.


    ?Is he in med school?¡°


    ?Almost. It''s law school.¡°


    ?So even worse.¡°


    Finn grins at me and saunters over to the kitchen. ?Most definitely worse. But he likes Gin Tonic and makes a mean Mousse au Chocolat, so he''s got the seal of approval anyway.¡°


    Finn makes me coffee and I stare at his back. He''s so cute. He really is so cute.


    I''m not being fair at all. I have to stop thinking about Delilah.


    ?I guess I''m a hypocrite,¡° I say.


    Finn throws a look over his shoulder. ?Aren''t we all? But why specifically?¡°


    ?Because I''m actually thinking about going to med school.¡°


    ?Oh. Wow.¡°


    ?It''s crazy, I know. And insane. I don''t have the money for that.¡°


    Finn hands me a steaming cup. ?I mean, I''m sure there are options. Plus as a doctor you can easily pay off your loans. But would you really want to? I mean, I''d feel so out of place.¡°


    ?Yeah, you''re right.¡°


    ?Is it because of your brother?¡° Finn''s voice is gentle. Of course, I''ve told him about Caden.


    ?No. Not primarily.¡° I take a swig from my coffee. ?Didn''t you say something about watching Netflix?¡°


    Delilah


    The bass is resonating behind my breastbone and the liquor running through my veins loosens my limbs.


    I let my gaze wander over my theatre girls, hoping one might come dance with me.


    They''re all pretty drunk already. I take Jade by the hand and drag her on the dancefloor with me.


    ?Dee...¡° she complains weakly, but I won''t let her.


    I love this song and dancing alone attracts too many creeps.


    We''re only two songs in, I''m not particularly sweaty yet, when I see her. She''s with May and Chris and a boy I don''t know. But it''s crystal clear that this is the guy she might soon be official with.


    He''s cute and blond and not at all what I''d thought would be her type.


    When he presses a kiss to her temple, something in my chest tilts. My whole face feels stretched and ugly.


    I''ve never felt anything like this before.


    Our eyes meet across the room and that pulls me back, almost makes me laugh.


    She can say whatever she wants, talk herself into whatever she needs to believe ¨C the way she''s looking at me right now, there is no mistaking it.


    I give her a slow smile and a raise of my brow before turning away. Dancing like I don''t know she''s watching.


    ?Dee!¡° It''s Chris who spots me, takes my hand and pulls me over to them.


    Leah looks like she is about to throw up.


    Good.


    ?Hey! What a surprise.¡° I give them all my brightest smile.


    The blondie returns it, so guilessly that I''d feel bad, if I was a better person. May is giving me strange looks and I guess she knows all about me. I''m trying not to let that make me uncomfortable.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The first chords of a new song make us halt, trying to find the new beat.


    May groans. ?Oh God, I can''t listen to that anymore.¡°


    ?Same,¡° her boyfriend agrees.


    Blondie shrugs and smiles. ?I like it.¡°


    I hate him for it because I do too.


    ?Just because you''re gay as fuck,¡° Chris tells him.


    ?What does that have to do with anything?¡°


    Leah is looking at me. I look back at her.


    This is ridiculous.


    I want all of the others to disappear so we can be alone. And I know that she wants that too.


    So why are we still here?


    Blondie turns to her and pulls her close, hands on her waist and now I have to turn away.


    I turn away and close my eyes and dance.


    When I open them the next time, the guy is kissing Leah and something that feels like a bright clear glass bubble inside me breaks and shatters.


    I excuse myself and head to the exit.


    I''m waiting to get my coat back when Leah catches up to me.


    ?I''m sorry,¡° she says and I know she means it.


    I don''t look at her. ?If you want him, go back.¡°


    Her fingers close around my wrist. I pull my arm away.


    ?I thought you''re better than me, Leah.¡° With that I leave her standing there and head out into the cold air of the night.


    I don''t make it far though.


    ?Delilah, wait!¡° She spins me around and there is no moment of hesitation, nothing.


    She''s kissing me and I''m kissing her back and this is exactly what I should have been doing since forever.


    ?Your boyfriend is right inside that building, darling,¡° I remind her as I pull away.


    Her lips are soft, softer than they look and she''s always kissing me with such a desperation, it makes my knees weak.


    ?He''s not my boyfriend,¡° she says, but guilt is written over her features.


    ?What are we doing?¡° I ask her and I can feel my own confidence fading.


    ?You were kissing him just minutes ago. This is fucked up,¡° I tell her as if I had any right to speak.


    Maybe it really is me. Maybe I''m making them that way.


    Maybe I''ve been fooling myself all along and I really am exactly like my mom.


    ?I know.¡° She lets go of me.


    ?Just come home with me,¡° I say. It''s dangerously close to begging.


    Leah gives me a look, tiredness in her eyes. ?Is that all you want? Because it''s not what I want.¡°


    ?What do you want?¡°


    She narrows her eyes at me. ?I''m not making confessions anymore. I''ve already made enough.¡°


    I grit my teeth and swallow thickly. I know she''s right, but I can''t admit it. ?You''re the one making out with someone else.¡°


    ?You''re the one who cheated on me first.¡°


    I turn my head. Some passerby is looking at me.


    ?So that''s it then? You''ll never forgive me?¡° I try to meet her gaze without blinking.


    ?I think I would forgive you,¡° she says, voice uncharacteristically brittle. ?If I thought you were serious about this.¡°


    ?I am.¡°


    She shakes her head. ?No, you''re not. I believe you that you missed me, but I don''t think it''s why you came back. And I don''t think you really want a relationship. You''re scared. I don''t know why, but, honestly, as long as you''re not willing to even try for me, I don''t care.¡°


    I stare at her.


    How is it possible that she knows that? How can she voice things I''ve never admitted even to myself?


    ?So what are you saying?¡° I ask.


    Leah crosses her arms. Long strands of hair are falling into her face. ?If you''re not commiting, I don''t want to see you again. I''m done with this shit and I don''t want someone who''s only ever halfway in.¡°


    I kiss her. She lets me and for a brief moment, we''re one.


    Then she looks at me. I think there are tears in her eyes.


    But Leah never lets those spill. Not for me, at least.


    ?Alright, then. I wish you the best.¡° And with that, she turns and leaves me.


    I want to say that I just stand there and look after her, but I don''t really see anything. My vision is blurred from something liquid and salty.


    I think that means I''m crying.


    When I get home, my roommate isn''t there. It doesn''t surprise me. She hardly ever gets home before five a.m. on a Saturday night.


    I walk straight into the kitchen and open the fridge. There is half a bottle of vodka stored in there. I think it''s Casey''s, but I couldn''t care less. She''s taking my stuff all the time.


    I curl up on the sofa with the bottle in my lap.


    The first swig burns its way into my stomach.


    It''s sad to think that, with all my attempts not to become like my parents, it seems like I''m achieving the exact opposite.


    If Leah only knew how much we truly have in common.


    ?Fuck me,¡° I whisper into the empty room.


    My cheeks are wet again and I don''t think I''ve ever felt this lonely before. Which says a lot.


    If I''m honest, I feel lonely all the time.


    I take another sip, clutching the bottle tight to my chest. Almost as if it was a baby.


    I sigh and wipe at my cheeks that are probably black from mascara. Then I take another swig.


    Just like my father would do.


    Pathetic. I am pathetic.


    My life feels like it''s skidding since Justin showed up again this summer.


    Or maybe that''s not true. Maybe it really started when he left ¨C and I met Leah.


    But maybe that''s all wrong and it was way before that ¨C when I decided to go to that stupid party and met him.


    In the end, it''s impossible to pinpoint the exact moment something went wrong. Because there''s always another moment that led to that moment and then one that led to this...


    I think about what Leah said.


    You didn''t come back for me.


    I wonder if it''s true. I''m honestly not sure. Did I just want to get away? Or did I also want to come back?


    I lift the bottle.


    Leah


    ?Where are you going?¡°


    I look up from my laptop and at Caden. He seems caught.


    ?Out?¡°


    ?With whom?¡° Two words, and he''s annoyed. I don''t know why that is.


    Caden isn''t someone who''s annoyed quickly. He never has been. He is the patient one out of the two of us.


    And yet, he''s acting like a teenager again.


    I don''t want to think about whether it''s me, somehow.


    ?If you have to know... I met a girl.¡°


    He bites his lip. I need a moment to process that.


    It''s not like I didn''t expect it. It''s just... I didn''t expect it. Not really.


    Caden has never had a girlfriend before. As far as I know, there has never been anything with anyone.


    But he''s nineteen. Of course there would be, eventually.


    ?Okay. So she''s your girlfriend?¡°


    He''s smiling. He can''t fight it. Something in my chest tightens.


    ?I don''t know. Maybe.¡° His eyes dart over my face. ?Are you mad?¡°


    ?I mean, no. Who is she?¡°


    ?We met at work.¡°


    ?Jesus, go easy on the details with me.¡°


    He looks down. ?I''ll introduce her to you once I''m sure. Okay?¡°


    It''s not okay. Somehow, this seems dangerous and weird and I want to get to know her immediately.


    But I take a deep breath. I can''t very well tell him not to date anyone.


    ?Alright. Have fun, then. No drinking!¡°


    ?No drinking, promise.¡° He''s made it halfway to the door when I think of something else.


    ?Never without condom!¡°


    I don''t think I''ve ever seen him this mortified.


    ?Oh my God, Leah.¡°


    ?I mean it. If you get any STDs, you could die. And ¨C Caden, I swear to God, if you get anyone pregnant, you''re leaving.¡°


    ?I''d love to,¡° he snaps, face burning.


    ?Understood?¡°


    ?Yes! Yes, understood.¡°


    Then he flees before I can think of any more to add.


    Seeing Finn at class is awkward. More than awkward, actually. I feel horrible.


    During class, we pretend like nothing happened, but I can''t hear any word of what the prof is saying. My head is spinning. I''m not sure how much Finn noticed.


    But in the end, it doesn''t matter. I have to tell him everything.


    We''re silent as we leave the building, walking over the campus filled with steady streams of students. It''s cold and I wish for some hot coffee. Maybe a waffle. Something sweet.


    ?What was that on Saturday?¡° Finn has stopped, turning to me.


    He''s not smiling. There is a crease between his brows and he''s crossed his arms.


    I swallow. ?I''m sorry,¡° is the first thing I can think of to say.


    He runs a hand through his curls. ?Look, I''m okay with this being... I don''t know, casual. Or going slow. But if you''re seeing other people at the same time, I do want you to talk to me about that. I need to. Otherwise it feels like lying to me.¡°


    ?I know. I agree and I''m sorry.¡°


    His features soften a little.


    ?Who was that girl? Your ex? Or are you... together?¡°


    ?No. None of that. We... it''s complicated.¡°


    He''s smiling again. How the hell can he already be smiling again? That''s not normal.


    ?Aren''t you mad?¡° I frown at him.


    He shrugs. My gaze is captured by one of his trans lives matter badges.


    ?I mean, not really. I don''t need to be monogamous. I''m cool with an open relationship. I do need communication though.¡°


    Then he looks back at me. ?But I didn''t really think we''re together, anyway. So I don''t feel like it''s my place to get all mad and worked up about this. You don''t really owe me anything.¡°


    I don''t know what to make of this. He''s reacting way too well... and not well enough.


    I''d be pissed. If it was the other way around, I would have been pissed.


    ?Okay.¡°


    ?So?¡° He tilts his head. ?Who is she?¡°


    I sigh deeply. ?Her name is Delilah. She''s... we met last summer when she was here for a program. We...¡°


    We what? Whenever I try putting it into words, I fail.


    ?We became close,¡° I settle for.


    ?As in romantically.¡°


    ?Yes.¡°


    ?Are you in love with her?¡°


    I stare at him. When I realize he''s serious, I take a deep breath and shove my hands into my pockets. Take a moment to regroup.


    ?You''re cutting right to the chase.¡°


    He smiles. ?I like asking the important questions.¡°


    I look at my shoes. ?I was.¡°


    ?You''re not anymore?¡°


    There are students passing us, backpacks slung over shoulders, hair up into buns.


    ?I don''t know. I do... I like her. But I don''t think we''re compatible.¡°


    ?Why not?¡°


    ?Because she won''t commit.¡°


    ?That''s a different thing though.¡°


    I sigh, suddenly annoyed.


    ?It didn''t work last year. She actually was a total asshole. And I''m not at all convinced she''s changed.¡°


    ?But she wants you back?¡°


    ?She wants me to want her.¡°


    Finn nods slowly. ?Oh. Okay.¡°


    ?Yeah.¡°


    We''re standing in silence for a while.


    ?I''m sorry about Delilah,¡° he finally says.


    ?I''m sorry for being a jerk.¡°


    His eyes are so forgiving, it''s crazy. ?It''s okay. Feelings are hard. But I think we should just be friends. You probably need to figure things out with Delilah first.¡°


    Hearing him say that actually makes me sad.


    Finn is such a good one. He is just such a good person.


    Those are rare.


    I''m almost sure he is a better person than Delilah is.


    But then again, I''m also absolutely sure he''s a better person than I am.


    ?Can I kiss you?¡° I ask him.


    He laughs. Then his fingers capture my face and he kisses me with cold lips.


    I wouldn''t say I''m an expert when it comes to kissing, but I''ve kissed enough people to make fair comparisons.


    I like kissing Finn.


    I''m not going to kid myself into thinking that I''ll ever like kissing him as much as I like kissing Delilah. But I do like it.


    And maybe, the intensity of my feelings for Delilah wasn''t something positive at all. Maybe such an intensitiy always comes with heartbreak.


    Here is this cute and intelligent and nice person that is actually interested in me ¨C and in making me happy.


    Why is there even a choice?


    ?You''re so good,¡° I say when we break apart and I''m even sadder than before.


    Finn laughs again and his fingers caress my cheeks. ?Thank you.¡°


    ?Would you even want to date me?¡° I ask him.


    He pauses. ?I would, yeah. But... more in a let''s-see-where-this-goes way than in a oh-my-god-this-is-otherworldly way.¡°


    He grimaces. ?I hope that wasn''t mean.¡°


    Now it''s my turn to laugh. ?It wasn''t.¡°


    ?Okay. Good.¡°


    We grin at each other. In that moment, if I''m truly honest, I already know. But I''m not ready yet to voice it, so I just smile at him.


    ?I''ll see you,¡° he says and waves, then disappears ¨C probably heading to his favorite coffee shop.


    I keep standing there for a little longer, lost in thoughts.


    When I fumble for my phone and call May, she answers immediately.


    ?Are you in the mood for waffles?¡°

 Chapter Twelve

    I was planning to dump all my emotional baggage of today right on her, but the moment she walks in, I know I''ll have to listen first.


    ?What happened?¡° I ask her.


    ?Don''t get me started.¡°


    She throws her hair back and pretends to be annoyed, but it''s clear that she''s actually sad.


    May is really sad and it scares me.


    ?Hey. What''s the matter?¡°


    It takes me a while (and a chocolate-peanut-butter-waffle) to coax it out of her, but once she''s started, she talks for over half an hour.


    She once briefly insinuated that her parents aren''t that happy with her dating someone who''s not Chinese, but I never thought it was a big deal.


    It seems to be though.


    ?My mother hates him,¡° May says and closes her eyes and it hurts me how much this hurts her.


    ?Maybe they just need time?¡°


    May shakes her head.


    ?We''ve been together for three years. It hasn''t changed.¡°


    She hiccups and then takes a bite of our waffle.


    ?My dad isn''t even that bothered. He likes Chris because Chris likes football and the food my dad cooks. I think he''s got over the fact that he''s Irish pretty quickly. But my mom...¡°


    May shakes her head. ?I think she always wanted me to, you know. Teach my kids Shanghainese and Mandarin and follow the tradition and everything. And I do plan to teach my children the language and all that stuff, but... I mean, I live here. In New York. I''ve never lived in Shanghai. I love it, but New York is my home. And I love Chris.¡°


    ?There''s nothing wrong with that.¡°


    ?It''s wrong to my mom. She sees it as disrespecting my heritage.¡°


    ?Why did your parents move here again?¡°


    ?Because of my dad''s work.¡°


    ?So your mom never wanted to leave China in the first place.¡°


    May shakes her head. ?I know she misses it.¡°


    I take May''s hand and squeeze.


    ?I understand that this is hard, but in the end, it''s your decision, May.¡°


    ?I know. But... you don''t know my mom. It''s so hard. Having her disagreeing with me like that.¡°


    ?But it''s not like you''d be trying to erase your culture.¡°


    May looks at me offended. ?Of course not. I love my family. I just... wish my mom would understand I can love them and love it here too.¡°


    If I''m honest, I''m not sure I even quite understand the problem. I feel like May is giving her mother what she wants.


    But apparently I''m missing something.


    I don''t know what it''s like to have roots elsewhere. I mean, I''m sure if I''d look into it, I''d find out too that I''m partly Norwegian or French or something. But I have no idea how May must feel.


    ?I just want to make her proud,¡° May says and it''s scary how this confident girl suddenly seems so small.


    ?Stand up for yourself and eventually, she will be.¡°


    But May shakes her head. ?No. She''s be happy if I''d find a nice Chinese boy and married him and maybe spend some years in China to raise my kids there. Even when my dad tells her she''s being too strict with me, it doesn''t help. He tried talking to her, saying he doesn''t think I''m disrespectful, but my mom...¡°


    ?Then make yourself proud, May. In the end, that''s all that matters.¡°


    She blinks at me. Swallows and smiles. ?That''s difficult.¡°


    ?I know.¡°


    She shrugs and stuffs another huge bite into her mouth. ?Okay, your turn.¡°


    ?Sure? We can talk more about it if you want to.¡°


    She shakes her head. ?I''m done talking about it for now.¡°


    ?Okay. Well...¡°


    ?Well?¡° she prompts, scanning the menu for beverages.


    ?I talked to Finn today.¡°


    ?Oh. Interesting. What did he say? What did you say?¡°


    I give her a short summary of our talk and by the end, she puts her hand on her heart.


    ?He''s such a sweet one.¡°


    ?I know.¡°


    ?But if Chris would be saying shit like I don''t need to be monogamous, he''d find himself cuffed to my bed sooner than he can say unfair.¡°


    May grimaces. ?Okay, that sounded crasser than I meant it. But... you get the idea.¡°


    ?Yeah. I don''t think it''s for me either.¡°


    ?So... tell me about your feelings.¡°


    I give May a look. ?I''m bad at that.¡°


    ?I know. Try anyway.¡°


    I sigh and finish the remains of the waffle.


    ?Okay, then I''ll start for you. One, you''re still in love with Delilah. Two, see number one.¡°


    I resist the urge to drop my head on the table. ?I hate myself.¡°


    May pats my shoulder. ?We''ve all been there. So what about Finn?¡°


    ?I want to like him better than her.¡°


    ?But you don''t.¡°


    ?I mean... I think he''s a better partner than she is.¡°


    ?Yet you don''t see him like that.¡°


    ?Like what?¡°


    ?Like someone you''d want to be in a relationship with.¡°


    I fiddle with my fork. ?I think I might be getting more of a friendship vibe.¡°


    ?Yeah, I think that too.¡° May sounds so convinced that it surprises me.


    ?You hardly know him.¡°


    ?I''ve seen you together at the club.¡°


    ?And that''s why you think now that I''m not interested?¡°


    ?Yup.¡°


    ?Okay. Wow. Why?¡°


    She frowns at me. ?I mean, sorry, but... to me, it seems like there''s zero chemistry. I believe you when you say you like him, because he is very likable, but... he just seems like your gay best friend.¡°


    ?That''s stereotyping.¡°


    ?If it helps, I could also say it the other way around. You seem like his gay best friend.¡°


    I blink at her. ?Fuck.¡°


    ?Leah, are you even into guys?¡°


    ?Yeah. I mean, I usually prefer girls. But...¡°


    ?If I may be frank, it seems almost strange to see you with one.¡°


    ?That''s just because you always think of Delilah. I''ve had a boyfriend before.¡°


    ?When?¡°


    ?In highschool.¡°


    ?That doesn''t count.¡°


    ?Why doesn''t it count?¡° I''m starting to get annoyed with this. I hate when people are trying to erase bisexuality.


    I hate it even more when I have to question myself over and over again.


    Because, yes. May is kind of right. It feels strange to be with Finn. Not painfully strange, but... just like something would be a little off.


    I try to remember how I used to feel with Owen, my first (and only) boyfriend. It''s hard. I know I thought I loved him. I''d run my hands through his curls and smile when he kissed me on my cheek.


    But did I ever picture him at night ¨C smooth brown skin over impressive muscles (he was a basketballer ¨C jackpot)? Was I really attracted to him?


    I shake my head.


    ?What does it even matter?¡° I ask.


    ?It doesn''t,¡° May concedes. ?It only matters if you''re into Finn. And, sorry, sweetie, but you''re not. Everyone can tell you''re not.¡°


    I sink back in my chair and sigh. ?Why is that?¡°


    ?Why is what?¡°


    ?That we always want things we shouldn''t?¡°


    I''ll meet Caden''s girlfriend next week and I''m not sure who of us is more nervous about it.


    Well, him. Definitely him. But it''s strange to me too.


    ?Be nice,¡° he tells me now every day and after the third time, I''ve snapped at him that if he says that one more time, I''ll make sure his girlfriend will never set foot over our doorstep again.


    That had him sulking in his room and gave me a much needed break.


    I''m always sitting in front of my notes, trying to be productive, but it''s hard. I''m thinking about Delilah all the time. And I mean, all the time.


    I can''t even brush my teeth without thinking about her. It''s absolutely crazy.


    There is this fist around my heart again, the fist that makes breathing so fucking hard.


    I don''t want this again. I don''t want to be such a wreck because of some girl. I''m the queen of not needing anyone, aren''t I?


    It''s ridiculous to get this caught up in someone else. And it''s pathetic if that someone else is a liar and a cheat.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Even now, I can feel that Delilah isn''t completely honest with me. That should be enough for me to finally let her go.


    But it seems like I''m unable to.


    When May tells me she''ll take me out this Friday, I don''t really want to go. I''m not in the mood to party.


    But I am in the mood for drinking and I know that it''s probably better to go out with her than to be sitting around in my apartment all day, pretending to study.


    ?Wear something pretty,¡° she tells me and hangs up.


    I go for some mom jeans and a long sleeved shirt.


    Not for the first time when I look in the mirror, I contemplate whether to cut my hair. Cut it really short, shorter than Finn''s. But that''s what everyone does after a breakup, so up until now, I refused to.


    Maybe someday.


    The bar May and Chris bring me to appeals to me instantly.


    It''s small and dimly lit, everything wooden and the faintest smell of smoke in the air. Across the room is a small stage.


    ?Is there going to be a show tonight?¡° I ask.


    May doesn''t look up from the menu. ?A small one.¡°


    ?What can I get my girls?¡° Chris asks, grinning at us, one hand on May''s shoulder.


    I take a Gin Tonic and May a beer and when Chris gets back with the drinks, I feel myself starting to relax.


    ?This place is nice,¡° I tell them.


    ?Yeah, it is. I used to come here with my friends all the time,¡° Chris says, taking a sip from his beer.


    ?You don''t anymore?¡°


    The ginger shrugs with one shoulder.


    ?Not often. Gabe moved to Boston for his residency, Sang has a son now and Lionel goes clubbing with his boyfriend basically every weekend.¡°


    A strange feeling shoots through me as I listen to Chris. Compassion and envy and sadness, all mixed up.


    ?They used to hang out all the time when Chris started college,¡° May says.


    Chris smiles. ?We did.¡°


    ?How did you meet?¡° I ask, genuinely curious.


    ?Well, so. Sang and I''ve known each other since kindergarten. We were, like, best bros since day one. In highschool, Gabe joined our two-man-team. Mostly because his mom always drove us to swim practice. Lionel and Gabe hit it off in college immediately and so we all started hanging out with him too.¡°


    ?Sounds nice,¡° I say, not really knowing what else to say.


    ?It was. I mean, we spent most of our time being stupid shits, but it was fun. Man, we had some great times.¡°


    May and I nod, even though I don''t really understand. I''ve never had anything like that. I always wanted to, but I guess I never met the right people. Or maybe I wasn''t in the right place.


    ?But you''re still close,¡° May says to Chris with a slight frown.


    ?Oh, yeah. I guess. Sang and I still talk at least once every week. But it''s just different from how it used to be. Especially with Gabe in Boston. He''s never free.¡°


    ?You said residency. Does he want to become a doctor?¡° I ask.


    ?Yup. An orthopedist. And that seems to kick ass, because he literally has no days off.¡°


    I want to ask him more about his friends, but before I can, the lights dim even further and someone steps on the stage only a few metres away from our table.


    As soon as I see who it is, I want to run.


    May puts a hand on my knee. ?Stay, please. Give her a chance.¡°


    My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty as I stare at Delilah.


    She smiles and, Jesus. She looks oh so gorgeous in her black dress.


    With a smile directed only at me, she lifts the microphone to her mouth.


    ?Good evening, everyone. I''m here tonight for a very special person. Someone who''s been stuck in my head for one year and six months now.¡°


    She lowers her gaze for a moment. Then smiles back up at me.


    ?Leah, darling. This one''s for you.¡°


    I think I''m about to faint.


    The song she picked is not one I know. It''s probably also not one that I''d usually listen to, but right here, right now, it breaks my heart.


    Because it depicts all the good and all the uncertainty I felt when I first met her. It''s what I still feel so often.


    The last verse, ended on a breathy exhale, almost has me crying.


    All I do the whole day through is dream of you.


    Delilah puts down the microphone and gives a short little bow. May puts her hand on my knee and squeezes.


    I''m fighting my trembling heart.


    Delilah looks at me as she leaves the stage, apparently oblivious to all the people who applaud and want her to sing another one.


    She approaches our table and stops there, directly in front of me, locking eyes with me.


    ?I know it''s not that easy. I know I fucked up and I know you don''t trust me. But I want to make this work. I''ve never wanted anything so much.¡°


    I try to swallow the lump in my throat. ?Let''s talk outside, yeah?¡°


    May makes room for me and squeezes my hand before I follow Delilah out of the bar.


    It''s cold outside, so cold, I start shivering immediately.


    ?You''re not honest with me,¡° I say.


    She meets my gaze evenly. ?I am. I''ve been honest about my feelings for you all along. I like you, Leah. So much more than I wanted to.¡°


    I cross my arms. ?But you''re still holding things back. Why did you come to New York in the first place?¡°


    ?Why do you think there was such a specific reason?¡°


    ?Because I know you. And I know when you''re lying.¡°


    A strange expression passes Delilah''s face. ?Okay. Fine. I''ll tell you. Come back to mine?¡°


    I''ve never been at Delilah''s new place.


    It still looks like she''d just crashed here. Not really like a home yet.


    But there are her clothes carelessly thrown over a chair, her scent in the sheets.


    I don''t want to leave.


    ?Do you want a drink?¡°


    ?Do you?¡°


    ?Yeah, I need one.¡°


    I follow her into the kitchen.


    ?Didn''t you say you have a roommate?¡°


    ?Oh, I do. But she''s gone a lot. Especially on the weekends. Is vodka soda okay?¡°


    ?Sure.¡° I watch her preparing a drink for me and my heart slams against my ribcage as if it would want to get out.


    I''d let it, if I could. But I can''t. I''m stuck with it and so I''m stuck with her.


    Leaving feels so impossible.


    ?Come here.¡°


    I sit down next to Delilah on the brown sofa. She hugs one leg against her chest.


    ?This is not a pretty story,¡° she tells me.


    ?I didn''t expect it to be.¡°


    She watches me for a moment, then begins to talk.


    Delilah


    Justin Kincaid entered my life shortly after I graduated highschool.


    The story of our first meeting is a boring one.


    I went to a party of one of my girlfriends. He was invited along by one of his guy friends. I saw him first and thought he was cute. He saw me and was enchanted.


    We made out that night and I liked him well enough to agree to go on a date with him. What I liked most about him, I think now, was his unpredictability. He kept some things hidden at first and I was intrigued by the challenge.


    Many guys are rather simple and that''s boring.


    Our story isn''t even really worth telling, that''s how generic it is. Right up until I didn''t get my period in August.


    I didn''t think much of it first. My body isn''t a clockwork. Periods can be late.


    But two weeks late is a lot and so I bought one of those cute little pregnancy tests, bearing the judging looks of the cashier.


    When I found out I''m pregnant, I didn''t lose my head. I was shocked for about five minutes, cried maybe two, and then I knew what to do.


    I informed Justin with a text. We weren''t even a couple.


    I told my parents because I thought they wouldn''t hate me. Be mad, of course. But not hate me.


    I was only half right.


    None of them hated me when I told them at first. My mother was shocked and asked how that could have happened. I told her I don''t know. I must have forgotten the pill one time, even though that''s not like me.


    My father didn''t say much.


    When my mother started thinking about the best arrangements to help me raise a child, I went into my dad''s private office and told him I''m getting an abortion.


    He looked at me for a moment and nodded. ?Okay, honey. It''s your decision.¡°


    It was my dad who drove me to the clinic, who sat through the appointments with me and then picked me up when it was done.


    Getting an abortion is not fun, I can tell you that. It hurts and it''s shameful and you feel like shit.


    But I never regretted my decision. I know that having a child at that time would have destroyed all my plans for the future and as an unhappy mother, I''d raise an unhappy child.


    ?I think you did the right thing,¡° Leah says.


    I look at her.


    No one has said that to me before. Ever.


    My dad always made it very clear that it was my choice and mine alone and he''d support me whatever I wanted to do and he kept his promise.


    But no one looked at me with conviction in their eyes and said it was right.


    I swallow.


    ?Yes. I know. Thank you for saying that though.¡°


    Leah threads her fingers through mine. I squeeze, then take another swig from my drink.


    Maybe it was a mistake not to have a proper conversation with Justin beforehand, explaining my reasons and making him feel a little more involved.


    But I honestly just wish I''d have never told him in the first place.


    He asked me to meet him at his place a couple days after I got the abortion and he sounded so upset, I agreed. I wanted to give him the chance to express his anger or sadness or whatever it was that he was bottling up and also tell him that we wouldn''t see each other again.


    When I stood in his room and confirmed that, yes, I terminated the pregnancy, he slapped me.


    At first, I was too shocked to do anything. Then, I scrambled for my phone and was about to call the police, when Justin broke down.


    He was crying and begging and pleading and apologizing.


    When he said ?It was my child,¡° I couldn''t look at him any longer.


    ?I''ll let you get away with that. Only this once. Touch me ever again, I''ll have you put in jail.¡°


    With that I walked out on him.


    I thought I could close that chapter of my life now.


    But Justin wouldn''t let me.


    He started stalking me. He showed up at my home, at my friends'' houses, at every party I attended.


    I told my dad about it and he went to the police with me.


    They didn''t do anything about it ¨C until Justin attacked me again, at a party. He broke my arm and I went straight to the police, cradling my arm and with ten witnesses in the pocket.


    Justin did me a huge favor by losing his temper in front of my friends. His attorney was a good one, but he couldn''t keep him out of jail, not even with the help of his rich daddy.


    Justin went to jail for two years and six months and I went to college.


    Last summer, he showed up at my door again, murder in his eyes, and I decided to leave for New York.


    Leah runs her hand up and down my arm, eyes shocked. ?What an asshole.¡°


    ?He was.¡°


    ?So you left Boston because you were afraid of him?¡°


    I take a swig from my drink and think about it. ?Not really. I mean, I am afraid of him, sometimes. But it was more that... he was a ghost from my past. It''s been such a long time and the last thing I wanted was to have to think about that again. About what I''ve done and what he''s done. So I... opted for the coward move and left the city while my father took care of Justin.¡°


    ?What do you mean by that?¡°


    ?He threatened him, I guess. We''re really rich, Leah.¡°


    That makes her laugh. ?I noticed.¡°


    We''re silent.


    I set the drink down and slowly crawl over. Straddling her lap.


    She looks up at me.


    I love to be able to look at her like that. Sharp features softened. Eyes big and vulnerable.


    Her hand settle on my hips and I want her to hold me. I''ve missed it so much.


    ?Why did you come back this year?¡° she asks, quietly.


    I trace her cheekbones with my fingertips. ?Several reasons. One was definitely you. The most important one.¡°


    ?What were the other ones?¡°


    ?Work.¡°


    ?And?¡°


    ?I''d rather not talk about the last one right now. I''ll tell you someday.¡°


    She doesn''t like it, but for now, she accepts it.


    When I kiss her, it feels like finally lying down after a long, hard day of work.


    I''m not sure how long we sit there, arms wrapped around each other, just kissing. Like we''d have all the time in the world.


    Only when we come up for air and I notice Leah glancing at the clock, anxiety is flaring inside of me again.


    ?Stay,¡° I ask her.


    Her face turns into glass. Easily breakable. ?Do you really want me to?¡°


    ?Yes. Please stay with me.¡°


    And she does.


    She lets me drag her to the bed and we crawl under the sheets together, legs entangled.


    I pull her on top of me, her hair tickling my chest. A smile ghosts around her mouth and then she''s kissing me again.


    Her hands and kisses are wandering down, exploring my body. She has it all mapped out already and always pays attention to all of my hotspots.


    I''ve never had such a generous lover before. She makes me want to try so much harder to please her.


    When I moan into the quiet darkness, I feel her smile against my naked belly, my shirt pushed up .


    Leah likes to take her time. So much so, that sometimes I feel like screaming, shouting at her to hurry the hell up.


    But I know I love it. I''ve never been touched that way before. So sure and deliberate. So eager yet patient.


    She keeps me up until the early morning and we fall asleep with our limbs entangled, no space between us.


    When I wake up the next morning,for a split second I don''t know why I''m so happy.


    But then I notice the warm body pressed against me and the scent in my pillow and I smile widely.


    ?Hey.¡° Leah smiles at me.


    I grin back and rub my nose against hers because that''s what she makes of me. A goddamn baby. ?Hi.¡°


    We kiss and then she drags me out of bed.


    In the kitchen, we run into Casey who looks thouroughly debauched.


    ?Morning,¡° she says, merely glancing up from her phone. Her curls are an explosion around her head, almost like an afro.


    ?Morning, Casey,¡° I say and give her a pointed look.


    She rolls her eyes, grabs her coffee and says: ?I''ll leave you to it.¡°


    ?Thank you,¡° I call after her with my sweetest voice, before turning back to Leah and kissing her.


    I love that she''s just a tiny bit taller than me. I can reach her no problem, but I get to be the one to tilt her head back just a little, so our mouths fit perfectly.


    One of her hands sneaks its way under my shirt (a tee and panties is all I''m wearing) and I grin against her lips.


    ?Make me breakfast?¡° I ask her and she pulls back, shaking her head.


    A smile plays around the corners of her mouth. ?You''re such a princess.¡°


    I blow her a kiss. ?Thanks, love.¡°


    ?That wasn''t a compliment.¡°


    But she''s smiling.


    Leah makes breakfast and I make coffee and Casey is talking loudly on the phone in her room, making us laugh.


    We eat at my shitty kitchen table in my shitty kitchen, mismatched cutlery and glasses and delicious pancakes piled in front us.


    I can''t stop touching Leah. It''s bad, it''s really bad and I don''t know what to do with myself.


    But I don''t want to fight this anymore. I''m at that point where I don''t even care anymore if she breaks my heart.


    It''s a foreign thought. I''ve always been the one to break hearts. Always.


    And now I''m giving my own up, give it to her, allowing her to break it.


    It feels strangely right.

 Chapter Thirteen

    Leah


    I don''t want to leave Delilah''s apartment, but around noon, I have to.


    Caden''s girlfriend is coming over this afternoon and I know my brother will kill me should I be late.


    Delilah is pouting and I''m sure she knows exactly what she''s doing when she gives me those eyes, pursing her lips, pretending to be upset.


    ?Don''t leave,¡° she says, wrapping her arms around my neck.


    I almost give in when she kisses me once again, lips a little swollen, face free of any make up.


    ?I have to. I''ll see you tomorrow, okay?¡°


    She sighs, then nods. And smiles at me.


    ?Tell me all about Caden''s girl. I''m so curious.¡°


    ?Me too.¡°


    We kiss one last time and when I fly down the stairs of the building, I can''t deny that I''ve never been happier.


    Caden''s and my attempt at baking doesn''t go as well as we hoped it would. The cake we produce looks a little sad. It smells okay though so we decide that it''ll have to be enough.


    Caden is so nervous, it almost makes me laugh.


    ?Relax,¡° I say, one hand on his back.


    He gives me one weary look, then turns back to his phone, which he''s clutching tightly.


    ?She''s here,¡° he says a moment later and jumps up as if stung by a bee.


    ?Here we go,¡° I mutter and he gives me another look.


    ?Be nice. Please.¡°


    ?Of course I''ll be nice. Jesus.¡°


    Moon turns out to be nothing like I imagined her. Which is not that surprising, since Caden didn''t tell me much about her at all.


    She''s tall and her make up is impeccable. Her clothes aren''t necessarily stylish, but have the look that someone takes very good care of them.


    Her skin is darker than Caden''s and her hair long and black.


    I introduce myself and try to seem warm and welcoming. That''s not one of my strengths and I know it.


    Moon, despite her obvious nerves, is very polite and her smile seems genuine.


    When I see the way Caden looks at her, I know that I''m going to be in this for the long run.


    He''s completely gone for her.


    She baked muffins and unlike us, she''s actually talented when it comes to baking. Her muffins are the best ones I''ve ever had.


    Almost as good as my mom''s brownies.


    The longer we talk, the more relaxed Moon gets and I think I might see what has Caden so smitten.


    She might be shy and reserved, but at the same time, she''s opiniated and eloquent, especially considering that she seems to come from a family even poorer than our own.


    I ask her about school and baking and she compliments me on the apartment and everything else she can think of and Caden looks like he''s beyond relieved that we get along.


    Before she leaves, I catch the two of them kissing, but pretend I wouldn''t have seen anything.


    It''s strange, seeing my brother kiss someone. I wouldn''t say it''s a nice feeling, but I''ll have to get used to it.


    When she''s gone, Caden is smiling, and I feel bad because I want to ask him questions that are completely unnecessary. Rude, even.


    More so to Moon than to him.


    Part of me wonders if he even knows. My brother can be oblivious at times.


    But I can think of no way to ask respectfully, so I decide not to ask at all.


    It''s been a long time since I woke up Monday morning in such a good mood.


    At college, Finn asks me what''s the matter. When he notices my caught expression, he laughs.


    ?Delilah?¡°


    ?Yes. Is that... okay to talk about?¡°


    ?Of course. Are you guys together now?¡°


    I can''t suppress my smile. ?I think. We might be.¡°


    The genuine smile he gives me warms my heart. Maybe I have two friends now.


    Plus an amazing girlfriend.


    I hardly dare say, but my life seems as perfect as it gets right now.


    It''s not until twenty-four hours later that my mood starts shifting.


    Delilah hasn''t texted me back for a whole day now.


    That''s a lot. That is how long you let someone wait when you''re trying to make clear you don''t want any contact with them anymore.


    I don''t think Delilah would ghost me though.


    Not after that weekend. Not after what we''ve said and done.


    And yet, she hasn''t texted me back for a whole day.


    ?You''re overreacting,¡° Caden tells me.


    My mom is sitting in our kitchen. Somehow, my rule is starting to get subverted and I''m starting not to care much about it anymore.


    What I do care about though that Caden told our mom about Delilah.


    I didn''t want to tell her yet. She''s not someone I go to for love advise and especially not when I''m concerned.


    ?Maybe she is just really busy, honey,¡° she says and I roll my eyes.


    ?I''m meeting May to study,¡° I announce and leave the two of them in the apartment.


    Caden doesn''t even look up from his phone.


    ?That''s weird.¡°


    May and I are sitting on the floor of her apartment, notes scattered around us, an open package of cookies and empty cups of coffee our fuel.


    ?It is weird. I mean... why isn''t she texting?¡°


    ?I don''t know.¡°


    May is frowning.


    I''m trying not to let my desperation show. I won''t be desperate anymore. I won''t allow her to do that to me.


    ?It doesn''t matter. Let''s focus.¡°


    May pats my knee, which seems to have become a habit, and we turn our attention back to our notes.


    Around twenty minutes later, the screen of my phone lights up.


    I have a new message from Delilah.


    Flying back to Boston today. Not sure yet how long I''ll be. Miss you.


    Delilah


    The bomb drops straight out of nowhere.


    One moment, I''m hurrying through the building with a big smile on my face, the next I''m dropping all the files I was supposed to be copying and start searching for the soonest flight to Boston.


    It takes me a while to think of what to say Leah.


    Maybe I should just call her. Tell her everything.


    But the story is too long, feels too big for the phone and I don''t want to talk about it with her right now.


    At the same time, I know that I''ll risk our fragile relationship if I don''t.


    I can''t think about her.


    I think I might simply break if I did.


    Leah


    This time, I let her go.


    As far as I''m at all able to, at least. I can''t cut all the threads at once. But I stop trying.


    I cry for hours in my bed, then I cry in Caden''s arms and then in May''s and then I feel like I''ve cried enough.


    Somehow, it feels like, finally, I did everything I could.


    I was honest. I was open.


    I tried.


    And now, I''m tired of trying.


    Instead, I let May and Chris take me out and we get drunk. Seriously wasted, to be honest, especially May and I. Chris is nice enough to stay fairly sober so he can take us home.


    I sleep in May''s bed and the next day, I puke my guts out over her toilet.


    Aside from drinking too much on the weekend, I don''t let anything slide.


    I go to classes everyday and study with Finn. We go for coffee a couple times.


    He met a guy on Grindr and after at first cautiously testing the waters, he''s talking my ear off about him. He''s apparently tall and handsome, looks like Alfred Enoch (you know, Wes, the puppy dog eyes from How to Get Away With Murder) and is a true sex god.


    ?But I just don''t know if he really likes me or if he''s just in it for the sex.¡°Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I tell Finn to take a step back if he''s catching feelings. He doesn''t want to hear it, but agrees with me in the end.


    ?It''s Grindr. There''s only so much you can expect,¡° he says and sounds so sad that I give him a hug.


    He crooks a smile.


    ?Fuck men,¡° he says and we toast to that with sweet coffee over our notes for maths class.


    Caden is out all the time now and we keep getting into fights about it. I tell him he''s not careful enough. He tells me I''m coddling him.


    Deep down, I know that he''s right and I''m wrong, but I can''t admit it to any of us.


    ?I''m proud of you, Leah,¡° May says to me on another drunken night.


    Since Delilah is gone, I like to end my nights with whiskey. Or tequila or vodka or rum. I''m really not picky.


    ?Why that?¡°


    ?You''re doing well. I was prepared for another month of depression,¡° May says, downing her drink.


    ?Oh, don''t worry. I''m depressed.¡°


    We exchange a look.


    ?Sorry. I won''t joke about it anymore.¡°


    But I do feel depressed, whenever I''m alone.


    I''m just tired of it. Tired of Delilah and her stupid games.


    I haven''t texted her. I haven''t called. Not even once.


    It''s not on me anymore to make this work.


    Delilah


    ?Will he ever speak again?¡°


    The doctor gives me a sad look. ?Probably. We can''t make any promises yet.¡°


    I nod slowly and look at my father. He seems so weak in the white hospital bed.


    ?He''s receiving the very best treatment, Miss Carter. You can be assured of that.¡°


    I give the doctor a slightly strained smile. ?I appreciate that.¡°


    I wish I could say I would have known.


    Since I''m sixteen or so, I feel like I know all of my family''s secrets.


    I know about my mother''s affairs and my father''s drinking. I know about the remote he once threw at her and how he went to therapy after that.


    But maybe I didn''t know everything.


    I didn''t see it coming. I didn''t expect it.


    I didn''t think my dad would ever try to kill himself.


    I always thought he loved me too much for that.


    My parents marriage has been an unhappy one from the day my mother got pregnant.


    She didn''t want that child. Not yet. She was only twenty-one and had plans. Big plans.


    But of course, having an abortion was out of the question. So she had me and then handed me over to an army of nannies who were to care for me while she grieved the life she wanted to have and now would never get.


    I''ve never quite understood why she married a man she didn''t love. I know that their families put pressure on them. They were such a good match.


    My dad is older than her and was already successful when they met, having taken over the business from his father.


    My mom was expected to be pretty and polite.


    She never wanted to be that, but she didn''t know how to get out.


    I always understood her unhappiness with the situation as it was back then.


    But that''s about where my understanding ends.


    While my dad busted his ass at work and at home, trying to make my mom happy, she became cold and distant. She put all the blame for the life she didn''t want on my dad''s shoulders.


    I blame her for his alcoholism, even though I know it might not be entirely fair.


    Instead of divorcing him, she began having affairs when I was nine or ten. Back then, I didn''t know about that of course.


    I only knew that my father spent the nights in his private office at home, drinking bottles of wine and whiskey. Sometimes accompanied with some pills.


    I was put to bed by the nice nannies and rewarded with pretty gifts for being such a good girl.


    For a long time, I didn''t care.


    Only when I was fourteen, I found out about the affairs. My father was yelling at my mother, drunkenly.


    She didn''t even try to deny it.


    When he was done, she just said: ?Go take a shower, Harold. You reek of whiskey.¡°


    A week later, he threw the remote at her and a bottle on the floor.


    I screamed at him and he became a crumpled pile on the floor, suffocating in self-hatred.


    My mother put a hand on my shoulder and led me away, up to my bedroom. She tucked me in and said: ?Don''t worry, Dee. He''ll never do it again.¡°


    And she was right.


    Sometimes I wonder if they could have fixed their marriage, at least a little, if Justin didn''t happen.


    But he did happen and I did have an abortion.


    As I said, my dad supported me. He understood.


    But my mom didn''t.


    The woman who I was absolutely sure would understand better than anyone else lost it when she learned what I had done.


    She yelled at me. Screamed at me I''d go to hell for that.


    I ran up to my room, locked the door and screamed into my pillow.


    My dad came up some minutes later. ?She doesn''t mean it,¡° he said, as always, unable to fix the mess around him.


    ?Yes she did,¡° I said.


    I believed that.


    Then I went to college and made new friends and new experiences and my view on my mother started to shift a little bit.


    I wondered, if maybe, her reaction had to do something with her being unable to do what I did. Back then, when she wanted nothing more than to get out of this unlucky relationship.


    It doesn''t make much sense and I''m not a psychologist, but I do think that her reaction had more to do with herself than with me.


    I was ready to forgive her.


    But she couldn''t forgive me.


    And when I was out of reach, she started putting that blame on my father as well. He was the one who knew about it, afterall. He helped me through it.


    When Justin resurfaced, I was home for summer break. I told my dad about it, even though I wasn''t sure if I really should. He was in a bad place. I didn''t want to add to the stress. But in the end, I had to, because Justin was stalking me again.


    When my mom found out, she looked me dead in the eyes and said: ?You deserve it, Delilah.¡°


    That afternoon, I applied for the exchange program.


    Seeing my mother at the hospital has me crawling in my skin.


    ?Are you happy now?¡° are the first words I say to her.


    She chooses not to answer.


    ?How long are you staying?¡° she asks instead.


    ?As long as I have to. But don''t worry. I''ll take a hotel.¡°


    ?That''s ridiculous. You can stay with me, of course.¡°


    ?The hell I will.¡° And with that, I turn my back to her.


    It''s kind of ironic how I always encouraged Leah to talk to her mom. To make it right.


    I know very well what it feels like to know that there is no making it right again.


    When I got back from New York to finish college, I didn''t speak to my parents much.


    My dad and I talked on the phone sometimes and he took me out for dinner every other week.


    I love my dad.


    He''s a very flawed man, but so are all of us, and he is the one person in the world who never made me doubt that he loved me.


    I knew his drinking had worsened. You could see it just by looking at him.


    ?Dad, you have to divorce her,¡° I told him more than once. ?You''ll both be happier.¡°


    He always looked down and just said: ?I love her, Leah.¡°


    He''s a flawed man.


    Now, at age twenty-two, going on twenty-three, I understand that my parents are probably the reason why my own love life is so fucked up.


    I just don''t really believe in love.


    Logically, I know that my parents are just one example. Not every relationship is like that.


    But it''s all I know and I can''t help but think it always turns out that way, in the end.


    Two months before I returned to New York, my mom finally showed mercy


    She divorced my dad.


    I''m not quite sure why then. Maybe she met someone. Maybe my dad lashed out again and none of them ever told me. Maybe she had to pick up one too many empty bottle.


    I don''t know. I just remember getting the call and being euphoric. It were the best news she ever told me.


    I really thought that everything would be better from now on. I felt like it was okay to leave.


    So I started applying for jobs and internships and allowed myself to think of Leah. Of seeing her again.


    Of loving her.


    Three nights before my flight to New York was scheduled, my father called me. Drunk.


    I drove two hours through the night to find him with his head on the steering wheel of his Mercedes, vomit all over his expensive trousers and leather seat.


    ?Did you drive drunk?¡° My heart was pounding in my chest and I almost had to throw up myself from the smell of it all.


    He didn''t answer me. He was on the verge of passing out.


    I cleaned him up as well as I could, suppressing my urge to gag, and wanted to drag him into my own car. I didn''t manage to. He was too heavy and not responsive.


    In the end, I succeeded to push him into the passenger seat of his own, reeking car.


    I drove home for two hours on a seat that was sticky with vomit in a car that wasn''t mine, my own car parked in the middle of nowhere.


    That was when I knew nothing would be better from now on.


    ?It''s good you''re here,¡° my mom says and I can hardly look at her.


    She has a nice house. It''s in the suburbs, where all the buildings are big and expensive and homely.


    It''s not quite as high class as she''s used to, but I can tell that she loves it here.


    I almost kill her for being happy.


    ?It wouldn''t make sense to waste money when I have a beautiful guest room set up for you,¡° she continues.


    She''s wearing a cardigan and a pair of those soft trousers she loves so much. She looks like a business woman, even though she hasn''t worked a day in her life.


    ?Brilliant,¡° I say through grit teeth and drag my suitcase into the room.


    It is a nice room, but I want nothing more than to tear the tapestry and paint everything in bloody red.


    Living with my mom is hell.


    It''s hell because there are no corpses in her house. It''s all oh so very bright. She has a fridge full of vegetables and yoghurts and a pantry full of chocolate and the dark bread she likes so much.


    I visit my dad every day. He still can''t talk.


    Apparently, when you try to hang yourself and almost succeed, your vocal chords are severely damaged afterwards.


    And not just those. His brain is damaged too, from all the time it had to go without oxygen.


    He might never walk without a cane again. If he''s really unlucky, he won''t speak again either.


    Whenever I visit him, I notice the signs of withdrawal. I know he''s suffering and they don''t even have him do it cold turkey. He probably wouldn''t survive that.


    I don''t talk to him a lot.


    I don''t know what to say. I used to blame my mom for almost everything that went wrong in our house and I think I still do, but now I''m not sure if maybe, he''s just as bad as she is.


    I don''t feel bad for him.


    I''m mad at him.


    And that probably only confirms what I''ve already known: That I am one hell of a selfish person, but I can''t bring myself to care.


    I''m here every day and I''m suffering with him.


    If he wants my compassion, he''ll have to do a lot of explaining first.


    I think about Leah a lot, but I don''t call her. I wouldn''t know what to say.


    I''ve lost my job at the theatre. I try not to cry about it.


    ?Would you like to go out today? I know a lovely restaurant in the near vicinity. I''m sure you''d enjoy their crepes.¡°


    My mom tries to smile at me, but this woman has never known how to smile.


    ?Are you seeing someone?¡°


    ?Excuse me?¡°


    ?You heard me.¡° I''m sitting on her painfully stylish couch, watching her in her painfully stylish clothes.


    ?I am, yes. But we''re taking it slow.¡°


    ?Who is it?¡°


    She seems almost weary, which is an unusual look on my mother. ?He used to by my physical therapist. We ran into each other by accident and started talking. He is divorced too.¡°


    ?So you didn''t fuck him behind dad''s back?¡°


    My mother''s features grow hard. ?I understand that you''re angry, Delilah, but I won''t let you insult me.¡°


    ?That''s funny. You don''t have a problem with insulting me though, do you?¡°


    I''m trembling all over. My mother looks at me.


    I hate, I really hate, how much we look alike. My eyes are hers. My legs, my hands, my mouth. All hers. Only my hair is my dad''s. And the collar bones, I was told. My mom''s collar bones are very prominent, almost like wings. Her hair is lighter than mine. Now she dyes it blond.


    ?I assume I owe you an apology.¡°


    ?Do you.¡°


    ?Yes.¡° She leans forward. Her hands are manicured, nails painted in a sweet shade of ros¨¦, but they still look old. Veiny and knotty. Older than her forty-four years would justify.


    ?I''m sorry for all the things I said to you regarding... regarding the abortion. I recognize that I''ve crossed some lines.¡°


    I clench my jaw and refuse to look at her. ?I don''t care about what you say.¡°


    We''re both silent.


    ?Delilah, you can ask me. Whatever you have on your chest. I''m tired of us fighting.¡°


    I turn my head so fast, I feel something pop.


    ?Are you now? After twenty-two years, you''re tired now.¡°


    She swallows. ?I know I''ve made many mistakes.¡°


    ?Yeah. First one was marrying Dad when you didn''t love him.¡°


    ?Yes.¡°


    I want her to be her usual, cold self. I don''t know how to deal with my mom admitting to having made mistakes.


    ?It''s not an excuse, but I want to tell you so you understand me better.¡°


    I make a noise, half groan, half snort.


    ?When your dad proposed to me, everyone ¨C and I mean, everyone; my family, his family, my friends, my siblings ¨C told me I''d be crazy not to accept. He was making six-figures even back then and loved me stupid. I was young and I was a woman. I didn''t know how to say no. I couldn''t explain why I didn''t want to be his wife. No one wanted to hear that I''d rather work than have kids.¡°


    I don''t want her to keep talking.


    I want to be mad.


    ?Divorcing him seemed... impossible. I didn''t know how to rely on myself. I was scared to lose the support of everyone I loved. And I didn''t want you to grow up without him. He loved you so much, Delilah. From the moment on he first saw you. And you loved him too. I didn''t want to do that to either of you.¡°


    I give her a hard, unforgiving stare. ?Old story, mom.¡°


    She flinches. ?Alright. Fine.¡°


    She gets up and smoothes her clothes down.


    ?Why now?¡° I ask.


    She turns back to me and her schooled expression show an emotion I don''t want to see.


    Pity.


    ?Why divorce him now?¡°


    ?Because he pushed me down the stairs, love.¡°

 Chapter Fourteen

    I spend the rest of the day crying and my mother gives me space.


    I want to call Leah.


    I never want to talk to anyone again.


    It feels like my dad just died. It feels like I''m an orphan.


    Everything hurts. It''s like my heart would be inflamed. I have to think of Caden.


    If I could exchange this heart, I would. In the blink of an eye.


    It''s already dark outside when my mom returns to my room. She''s carrying a plate with sandwiches and a glass of coke.


    She doesn''t know my favorite comfort food are pancakes. Only my dad knows that.


    And Leah, I guess.


    ?Can I sit for a moment?¡° she asks.


    I shrug, not getting up. She sits down on the bed, setting the plate on the nightstand. One cool hand rests on my calf.


    ?I didn''t want to tell you. I didn''t want you to have to carry that weight. But I can''t stand the way you''re looking at me. I don''t want to take his blame too.¡°


    Another tear rolls down my cheek. She wipes it away.


    ?Honey, it doesn''t change who he is.¡°


    ?It changes everything,¡° I say.


    I know that she understands what I mean.


    ?Not for you. He loves you. He always has.¡°


    ?He loves you too.¡°


    ?He''d have never lain hands on me if he wouldn''t have been wasted.¡°


    ?But he''s always wasted.¡°


    My mom swallows. Her hand is stroking my calf.


    ?How many times?¡° I ask her.


    ?Only that once. I promise, Dee.¡°


    Some more tears are hanging on my lashes. I don''t know where they all come from.


    ?I don''t think he''s inherently bad. I was horrible to him. I admit that. And he is sick.¡°


    Her hand doesn''t leave my leg. ?I don''t want to take you from him. You''re everything to him.¡°


    Another sob escapes my throat. ?How can I love him when he hurt you?¡°


    Everything is wrong.


    ?Because it doesn''t make everything else a lie.¡°


    ?It does,¡° I say because it''s true.


    I take a week before I can visit my dad again.


    When I come into the room, his eyes find me immediately.


    ?Delilah,¡° he says and everything in me cracks open.


    His voice is hoarse and it sounds like speaking hurts him.


    I want to run out of the room.


    I think he knows. Maybe he can tell by the look on my face. Or maybe he assumed my mom would tell me.


    ?I''m so sorry,¡° he says and then we both cry.


    I don''t take his hand. I don''t say anything.


    But I don''t leave.


    My mom introduces me to her new boyfriend on my third week in Boston.


    He seems like a nice guy. A little boring, for my taste.


    But it''s clear that she likes him more than she ever liked my dad.


    When the fourth week begins, I visit my dad again.


    The splint around his neck is gone and they''re allowing him to eat liquid food again.


    He looks completely broken.


    This is the man who carried me on his shoulders when I was little, the man who set up my first desk and picked out every single one of my tennis rackets with me.


    It''s my dad.


    But now, I hardly recognize him.


    ?I understand if you never want to talk to me again,¡° he says.


    It''s difficult to understand him. Partly because his voice is still so hoarse, partly because the brain damage makes him slur his words.


    ?I haven''t decided yet,¡° I say and sit down on a chair.


    He nods. ?How are you?¡°


    I shake my head. ?I''m not talking about me today.¡°


    He nods again. His hands are shaking. ?I''m sorry. I don''t know what else to say.¡°


    ?I don''t think there is anything you can say.¡°


    We''re silent together and strangely, I don''t even have the urge to cry. I simply feel... done.


    ?I''m going to a clinic,¡° he says.


    ?Good.¡°


    He won''t get any credit from me until he really changes something.


    ?If you ever need anything, I''m here. No matter if you want to see me again or not.¡°


    It takes him five solid minutes to croak that out, but he manages and my heart clenches.


    ?I need time, Dad.¡°


    His eyes fill with tears and he nods. ?As much as you need, dear.¡°


    And there it is again, the urge to cry.


    I love this man. He''s my dad.


    But I don''t think I can ever forgive him for what he''s done.


    Just like I can''t forgive my mom.


    I''ve never felt this alone before.


    ?You know what I''ve always wondered?¡°


    I glance at him, then away again.


    ?How we managed to make such a good person.¡° His eyes are still watery.


    ?I''m not a good person.¡°


    I''m on the best way to become just as fucked up as the two of them are.


    ?You are.¡°


    I''m exhausting him. I should probably go.


    ?Delilah, please... know that you deserve the best. Better than me. And better than your mom.¡°


    I''m crying again. I can''t help it.


    ?Why, Dad?¡° It''s like I''m a little girl again. ?Why did you do it?¡°


    He''s crying too and I''m sure it must hurt like hell.


    ?I don''t know. When I drink... I get so angry. I can''t control myself. It''s my fault. If I can''t control myself when I drink, I shouldn''t be drinking in the first place.¡°


    I look at him and remember that he tried to kill himself.


    He hates himself so much for what he''s done, he couldn''t bear living with it.


    And yet I''m not sure it''s something I can forgive.


    But maybe I don''t have to forgive it to love him.


    Honestly, I don''t think I have much of a choice in that matter. I love him anyway.


    And hate him at the same time.


    ?I love you, Delilah,¡° he says and I believe him.


    ?I have to go.¡°


    He nods. He understands.


    ?I won''t call you if you don''t want me to. But I really, really want to hear from you.¡°


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I can''t make promises. I don''t know how I''ll feel a few weeks from now.


    ?I don''t know yet.¡°


    He gives me a smile, cheeks still wet. ?Be safe, dear.¡°


    I smile at him and nod and then I leave his room, barely breathing.


    Leah


    When Delilah gets back this time, it doesn''t feel like seeing a ghost.


    It hurts, but somehow differently.


    ?I don''t deserve your forgiveness, but I''m asking you for it anyway,¡° she says.


    She''s leaning against the door to my apartment, apparently having waited for me here.


    ?You just disappeared for a month,¡° I tell her.


    ?I know.¡°


    ?I''m not sure I want to hear any explainations.¡°


    ?I get it.¡°


    We look at each other.


    She looks so tired, so sad. I don''t know what happened, but I know that she didn''t leave me just because of a whim.


    I''m just not sure it matters.


    ?A relationship doesn''t work like that, Delilah. Not with me.¡°


    She nods. ?Yes. I''m sorry.¡°


    ?How often are you going to say that?¡°


    ?As often as I fuck up.¡°


    I sigh. ?Do you want to come in?¡°


    What Delilah tells me makes me forget all my anger.


    I hold her as she cries and pet her hair and hate her parents. I always thought that it doesn''t really get any worse than what I''ve got dealt in terms of parents. But I have to admit, Delilah''s come very, very close.


    ?Did he ever hurt you?¡° I ask her, stroking her arm.


    ?No. Never. That''s why...¡°


    She can''t talk. A sob interrupts her.


    I think I get it.


    Hating my father that I haven''t seen in twenty-two years is easy. Hating Caden''s father that was an asshole to all of us at least eighty percent of the time was easy, too.


    I don''t know what it must be like to love someone dearly, to trust them, and then be betrayed like that. I understand she doesn''t know what to make of it. I wouldn''t either.


    ?I just... I want to forgive him. Yet the last thing I want is to forgive him. It feels like... this is something I just can''t do if I call myself strong. I mean, what woman forgives a man for physically hurting her? Only the weak ones.¡°


    ?But he didn''t hurt you,¡° I say softly.


    ?But my mother. That''s basically the same.¡°


    ?Not quite.¡°


    We''re silent. I think she''s listening to my heartbeat.


    ?Give yourself time,¡° I say finally. ?And stop thinking about it so... black or white.¡°


    Delilah gives me a surprised look.


    I crook a smile. ?I know, sounds weird coming from me. But every situation is different. Your father isn''t Caden''s. Or mine. And no one is only bad. Or only good.¡°


    ?Yes, but there are things that are unforgivable.¡°


    ?Yeah. But only we decide what those are.¡°


    ?So you say I should forgive him?¡°


    ?No. I say you should wait and see and think about it. And if you want to forgive him, if you feel like he deserves it, then it''s okay if you do. And it would also be okay to not forgive him, but keep on loving him anyway.¡°


    She wraps her arms around me and cries into my shirt.


    We stay like that for a long time.


    ?Where''s Caden?¡° Delilah asks, lifting her head.


    ?With Moon.¡°


    ?His girlfriend.¡°


    ?Yeah.¡°


    ?What is she like?¡°


    I tell her a little about her and then we''re silent again.


    ?What about us?¡° Delilah finally asks, her voice small.


    I don''t look at her, my fingers running over the sofa cushions.


    ?I don''t know.¡°


    She doesn''t promise me she''ll never disappear again. I think she knows that words mean nothing at this point.


    But will I really tell her it''s over for good after she just told me her story? Finally?


    ?Maybe let''s just... wait and see, yeah?¡°


    Delilah nods slowly.


    ?I love you, Leah,¡° she says and it makes my heart stop.


    Gracefully, her face swollen from tears, she gets up. ?I''ll be busy looking for a job, but for you, I can always make time.¡°


    I nod.


    ?Thank you,¡° she says, genuinely.


    ?Always,¡° I say, knowing the dangerous implications of that word very well.


    She almost smiles at me.


    Then she''s gone.


    Two weeks later, after doing a lot of thinking, I find myself in the hospital once again.


    For Caden.


    When they called me, I almost fainted.


    But for once, it doesn''t have to do anything with his heart.


    Or maybe it does. Just in another way than usually.


    I storm into the hallway where he and Moon are sitting, both patched up and battered. Caden has a blue eye and one of his arms is in a sling.


    ?Hey.¡° His voice sounds very small.


    ?You got to be fucking kidding me.¡° I''m so mad, I don''t even know where all of my anger is coming from. It''s probably just fear, but I can''t channel it as such. It comes out as ugly, white-hot fury.


    ?It was my fault,¡° Moon says, but I ignore her.


    ?You''re in no fucking condition to play the fucking hero, Caden!¡°


    ?I wasn''t playing hero,¡° he yells back.


    ?Yes you were! Her shit isn''t yours!¡°


    For one moment, I think he''ll hit me.


    Caden has never touched me. Not once since he''s older than thirteen, which was the age when he pushed me against the fridge and realized that I couldn''t push back. That he could pin me there if he wanted to.


    Since then, he made a point to be the opposite of his father.


    But in that moment, I think he''ll hit me.


    ?She was assaulted by assholes, Leah,¡° he says instead, voice like gravel.


    I know I''m being insufferable, that I''m not thinking straight. But I can''t stop myself. Something inside of me is unleashed, something I have no control over.


    ?You''re not dating a black trans girl, Caden. I''m not picking you up from the hospital again.¡°


    Out of the corner of my eyes, I register Moon''s expression. It''s destroyed.


    Caden becomes very calm.


    ?Leave,¡° he says.


    ?I''m taking you home.¡°


    ?No.¡° He''s still eerily calm.


    ?Caden -¡°


    ?You''re not taking me home. I''m not coming home. Leave.¡°


    I don''t want to, but something in his gaze tells me that there is no choice.


    So I leave, unable to breathe.


    Caden moves out a week later and there is nothing I can do to stop him. He moves in with Alex, which consoles me just a little, but I still have a panic attack the first night he''s gone.


    The next day, I don''t call May.


    Not Finn and not Delilah either.


    I call my mom.


    ?I shouldn''t have said that.¡° My voice and hands are shaking.


    My mother listens attentively, never interrupting me. It''s a skill she had to acquire. She wasn''t able to just listen when I was a kid.


    But now she is, only humming sometimes to signal I''ve been heard.


    ?It''s not that I have anything against Moon, I just... I''m so worried about him. Still. All the time.¡°


    ?I know, honey.¡°


    That''s when she hugs me and I start crying.


    I haven''t cried in front of my mom in ages.


    ?I understand,¡° she says, stroking my back.


    ?Am I bad for him?¡°


    It''s what I''ve been wondering for months now, but couldn''t admit.


    My mom pauses. ?No. But I think you have to let him go. Just a little. He needs to spread his own wings. You can''t always lend him yours.¡°


    I roll my eyes.


    ?You''re being cheesy,¡° I say, but I know she''s right.


    ?I''m scared,¡° I admit.


    ?Me too,¡° she says and that''s all I need to hear.


    A week later, Caden agrees to meet me, so I can apologize.


    It''s painful, having him back at the apartment and knowing he doesn''t live here anymore.


    ?I''m sorry,¡° I say.


    He just keeps looking at me, but I don''t know what else to say.


    ?You should be,¡° he finally says. ?What you said was hurtful, Leah. Really hurtful.¡°


    ?I know. I shouldn''t have said it. It was wrong. It''s just... when it comes to your safety, Caden ¨C it makes me reckless. I don''t care about anything else. Keeping you safe is the most important thing to me.¡°


    He looks down and then finally sits.


    Relieved, I scoot next to him on the sofa.


    ?I know that. Sometimes, it makes me sick.¡° His words stab me in the gut, but I force myself to keep listening.


    ?Look, I know you do it because you love me. And I love you too. I want to keep you safe, too. But you can''t always be there. I don''t want you too. I''m nineteen. I don''t need to ask permission.¡°


    ?Yes. I know that.¡°


    ?You don''t act like it.¡°


    He''s right, so I don''t talk back.


    ?I really think it''s better for us not to live together.¡°


    I don''t want to show him how much that statement hurts me. But he sees it anyway. Of course he does.


    Carefully, he wraps one of his long arms around me and pulls me close.


    ?I don''t want to hurt you,¡° he says.


    ?I know.¡°


    I wonder why this is so hard. We both know what the other one''s feeling. We understand.


    ?It''s hard for me to accept you don''t need me anymore,¡° I whisper.


    Only now I realize that this might be the root of it all. Of course, I''m worried about him. Your brother having such an unreliable heart will do that to you.


    But maybe what really scares me, is not being needed anymore.


    Caden needed me so much when we were younger. I was the one he''d come to. Always.


    And now he doesn''t even want to live with me.


    ?But I love you still. Isn''t that enough?¡°


    ?It is,¡° I say, even though it doesn''t really feel like it.


    But I know it should be. It will be.


    He rests his chin on my head, like I always used to do. It makes me smile.


    The good thing about the love between family members is that it takes a lot, a lot, to destroy it. I think it''s the nearest we can get to unconditional love.


    ?Can you promise me weekly dinners?¡°


    I know he''s grinning.


    ?Only weekly? I was planning on raiding your kitchen every other day. Alex'' kitchen is shit.¡°


    Now I''m grinning too.


    I think I''m starting to see what he''s seeing. What he wants for us. For him.


    ?Sounds good to me. If you cook, that is.¡°


    The first time I see Delilah again is on New Year''s Eve.


    May invited me and Finn to the small party Chris is hosting. He managed to get his whole boy squad to come and May says he''s excited like a little kid.


    I thought about whether I wanted to invite her or not for days. Maybe it would be weird, seeing her again for the first time with all my friends right there.


    But then I thought that would be perfect. I want Delilah to get to know my friends. I want this to be real.


    I want to see if that''s what she wants too.


    So the next time I see her is at Chris'' house. She''s early and in her purple dress and silver heels, she knocks me dead.


    ?Hey,¡° she says, holding a very pretty bouqet of flowers.


    I swallow and smile at her.


    God, I missed her. I only realize now how much I really missed her.


    ?Are those for me?¡° Delilah nods and hands me the flowers.


    ?I actually wanted to buy you flowers too,¡° I say.


    ?Really?¡°


    Her smile grows a little more confident.


    ?Yeah. You seem like you''d appreciate that.¡°


    ?I would.¡°


    I smile at her and lead her inside the house. ?Next time.¡°


    I introduce her to May and Chris and we don''t have much time to talk before Chris'' friends are coming in and then Finn arrives and for some minutes, it''s awkward. But Finn and Delilah are both such likable people (and so eager to make nice for my sake) that it''s fading quickly.


    The evening will probably enter my top ten of best nights ever.


    There is a lot of food and a lot of alcohol and all my favorite people (minus Caden) in one place.


    And there''s Delilah.


    When the countdown to midnight starts, I take her hand.


    May is standing to my right and Delilah to my left and the champagne we had is making my head a little fuzzy.


    Everyone is erupting into drunken cheers and I turn and kiss Delilah.


    She smiles against my lips and wraps her arms around my neck.


    ?Do you want to move in with me?¡° I ask her when we finally pull away.


    Her eyes are huge. ?What?¡°


    ?Do you want to move in with me?¡°


    ?You''re drunk.¡°


    ?And honest. So do you?¡°


    Her smile shines brighter than the firework shooting into the sky. ?Sure. As soon as I have a job to pay half the rent.¡°


    I grin widely. ?Deal.¡°


    I kiss her again. She tastes like champagne and sugar and the nightsky.


    ?Leah?¡°


    ?Yeah?¡°


    ?I already have a job.¡°


    I grin against her lips. ?Good.¡°


    I''ll ask her where she works now later. There is a lot of things I''ll have to ask her. About her family and her career and the future.


    But for right now, it feels like there are no questions left between us anymore.


    Only answers.