Nova and Quinton: No Regrets

by Jessica Sorensen

  My arms instinctively circle him and pull him closer as I rest my chin on top of his shoulders. "But what if it is her?"

  His muscles spasm, but when he speaks his voice is calm. "Then we'll deal with it together."

  "Can you... can you deal with it?" I wonder, looking him in the eyes. I honestly don't know, if it comes down to it, if he can be there for me without it hurting his recovery. If it is Delilah's body, will he be able to handle it? I don't think they were that close, but death is death. It's hard. Painful. And the weight of it grows with each person who passes, and never fully lightens again. Quinton's lost a lot and I worry the weight of another death will push him down.

  "I think so." His voice falters, but he quickly recovers. "I will for you... but Nova, let's not go to that place until we know for sure, okay?"

  I nod, reaching up and wiping some more tears away with my fingertips. After I pull myself together, I lean back and look him in the eye. "You're pretty good at this. You know that?"

  He raises his eyebrows with a look of disbelief. "Well, if that's true, then you can thank Wilson and his constant nagging words of wisdom."

  "Do I get to meet him?" I ask, changing the subject to a lighter tone. "While I'm here?"

  "Do you want to meet him?" he asks in surprise, his hands resting on top of my legs.

  "Of course. You've been talking about him nonstop for a couple of weeks now," I say, but when he frowns, I add, "But you don't have to introduce me if you don't want to."

  "No, I want to," he replies with reservation. "It's just that..." He scratches the back of his head. "It's just that it makes things so real." He gestures between us. "You and I."

  "It doesn't have to mean that," I say, hiding my disappointment. "We can still just be friends."

  His lips smash together as he holds my gaze. "I'm not sure if I can do that. Not when you're here now." He shuts his eyes and his chest rises and falls as he breathes in deeply and exhales. "Not after that kiss."

  "I'm sorry about that," I apologize, even though I'm not that sorry. "I feel like I just put a ton of pressure on you by showing up here. I should have thought this all through a little better."

  He opens his eyes, honey brown and reflecting the light of the room. I remember when I first met him how much pain they carried and in Vegas how empty they looked. But now they're different... he's different--more alive. "No, I want to be here for you... you've been there so much for me." He deliberates something with a lost look on his face. "Just tell me what you want to do and I'll make it happen."

  I consider what I want, but a lot of impossible scenarios come to mind, like making it so Delilah will be okay, so I decide to settle on something simple. "I want to see the city," I say. "I've never been here before."

  "How long are you planning on staying?" He gets to his feet and sits back down to eat breakfast.

  "I have to go back home tomorrow... I have to work the day after Christmas and I promised Lea I'd spend Christmas day with her."

  I can't tell if he's happy about this or not, but then he smiles. "Only one day in Seattle. I know just the place to go."

  "Oh yeah? Where?" I dig into my eggs.

  "It's a surprise." Then he winks at me and just seeing him happy makes me think that, despite all the darkness and wrong going on right now, everything's going to turn out okay.

  Chapter 13

  Quinton

  It's strange having Nova here, but not as strange as I thought it would be. In fact, despite my nervousness, it feels strangely right having her by my side. I wonder what this means. That it doesn't feel as wrong as it used to.

  But the settled feeling leaves me a little as we get onto a bus and head toward town to see the Space Needle. I keep thinking how Lexi and I used to do this and how I shouldn't be doing it with Nova, yet as I sit by her, holding her hand, I can't seem to bring myself to put any sort of space between us.

  "Seattle's a lot bigger than I thought," she says as she observes the city through the window. She has her phone out and every once in a while she records the stuff around us, always wanting to see everything through a lens.

  The city is extra busy right now, being that it's the day before Christmas. More people walk the streets, carrying bags. Lights sparkle around windows and everything seems to shine cheerfully.

  "It's definitely no Maple Grove," I tell her, leaning over her shoulder to stare up at the buildings with her. Her vanilla scent floods my body and I can't help it, I brush my lips across the side of her head. Just a soft kiss, to still the craving to smother her with passionate kisses.

  "It's so tall and busy," she says, leaning into me and sighing contentedly. "And shiny. Like a big mirror... and all the Christmas stuff... I swear I can actually feel Christmas in the air."

  "I used to draw it all the time," I divulge, turning my legs inward in the seat when a lady on crutches comes hobbling by. "I even won an art contest with one of my drawings when I was a senior in high school."

  She turns her head and we're so close our lips brush against each other. "I want to see some of your sketches while I'm here. Ones that you used to draw."

  My brows furrow as I realize that I think I might be able to handle that. "You know what? I think I'd like you to see them too... I'd like you to see that I wasn't always so tripped out and could draw stuff with meaning behind it."

  "I think everything you draw has meaning behind it," she says, the sunlight illuminating her greenish-blue eyes. "Some of the meaning is just sadder."

  Her words hit me in the heart. She's so understanding and all I want to do is kiss her. Without any warning I press my lips to hers, startling her. But she doesn't pull back, falling into the kiss, opening her mouth as I slide my tongue deep inside. I'm sure we have an audience, but I don't care as I lean into her, forcing her to lean against the bus wall.

  And that's how we stay until we reach our stop, almost missing it because we're so consumed in each other. We get off holding hands, the icy air just a bit more bearable as we walk side by side.

  "Did you come here a lot?" she asks, angling her head back to look up at the top of the Space Needle stretching toward the sky as she raises her camera phone to get a shot of it.

  I nod, not looking at the building, but at her. The awe in her expression is more fascinating than anything else going on around me. The way her eyes look crystal blue in the shadows, but greener when she leans into the light. The way strands of her hair move with the wind and the way she's biting her bottom lip nervously. Watching her makes me still inside and I wonder if this is how it could have always been with her if my mind had been undiluted enough to be aware of it. Although I feel high on her right now. Nova high. I wonder if that's okay.

  "What?" she asks, suddenly looking at me, and our gazes fasten.

  I shake my head, still not looking away from her. "It's nothing. You're just beautiful. That's all."

  Her cheeks turn a little pink and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen. It helps override the terror affection term I just told her

  "Thanks," Nova says shyly.

  I smile. "Come on," I say, pulling her toward the entrance before she can get too embarrassed. "It's much better at the top."

  She laughs and lets me guide her up the stairs that lead to the entrance doors, where we pay our way in and take the elevators to the observation area. The wind feels like ice from all the way up here and stings my cheeks. We're so high up it feels like I'm flying and I hold on to Nova while she records the view, staying behind her with my hands on her hips, afraid to let her go as she leans forward and glances at the view below.

  "The city looks so small from up here," she notes, then glances over my shoulder with her phone still up in front of her. "I feel like I'm a bird or something."

  Smiling, I span my arms out and bring hers along with mine, pretending we have wings. She laughs, turning back around and redirecting her attention to the view and her camera. We stand there silently for the longest time, watching people come and go
, the air getting colder and the sky darker. I think about asking her if she's ready to go, but I sense she's having some sort of moment so I remain silent, wondering what she's thinking and if she'll ever share it.

  "Landon was afraid of heights," she says unexpectedly, gazing straight ahead as she continues to record. "We couldn't even ride the Ferris wheel when the carnival came to town."

  "Lexi was afraid of bugs," I say quietly, resting my chin on top of her head, my fingers delving into her sides because I have to hold on to something, otherwise I'm pretty sure I'm going to collapse from the adrenaline and emotions barreling through me. "I had to squish one every time she saw it."

  "I'm not a fan of them either," she admits. "But that's not what I fear the most."

  "What do you fear the most?" I dare ask, tensing as I wait for her answer.

  "Life," she says, looking over her shoulder at me. "And what lies ahead for me. You?"

  My scar burns on my chest, feeling like it is splitting open, sending pain all over my body, but despite it, I manage to say, "The past and forgetting it."

  She nods, understanding, and I'm glad I don't have to explain it to her. It makes things easier, unlike with my therapist, who wants me to explain everything. Nova gets me without my having to explain everything, and when I do explain things to her, I feel terrified but better. God, it's amazing what she's done for me. How lucky I am that she's here with me.

  "Landon said he was tired of life," she whispers. "And that he couldn't find a point of living it anymore, so he just gave up... it always feels like everyone's giving up all the time and I don't understand why."

  "Because it's easier," I say. "Than living and fighting to survive."

  "But it's worth it?" she asks with so much hope in her eyes it makes me feel the slightest bit of hope, too. "Right?"

  "I didn't used to think so... I used to think that the only way to deal with everything was to give up, but now..." I trail off, searching her eyes. "But now it's not so easy anymore."

  She presses her lips together, turns toward me, and then slips her fingers through mine. "Good. Because I don't want you to give up. I need you here with me." Then she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me and for a moment everything seems perfect. I'm not sure if I deserve it or not. If it's right or wrong, but regardless I'm selfishly taking it at the moment because I want her, more than anything.

  Chapter 14

  Nova

  We spend the rest of the day exploring the city and I even stop at a few stores to buy a couple of last-minute Christmas presents. We chat while recording every moment, but only because I want to have something to remind me of this day. It's hard, I'll admit, to be walking around when there's such a huge fear looming over my head. Death. It only gets harder when I get a text from Jaxon, one I feared was coming.

  Jaxon: Did u seriously play with Lea's band?

  "Shit," I curse as I read the text. We're sitting on a park bench watching people go by and Quinton shoots me a puzzled look.

  "What's wrong?" he asks, putting his arm on the back of the bench behind me.

  I shake my head as I read the text over again. "Jaxon found out I played with Lea's band."

  "So? Tell him you did it because she's your friend," he says, the sunlight above shimmering in his eyes.

  "I think he's pissed," I say, and then I text Jaxon back.

  Me: I'm sorry, but she really needed me. I feel bad for doing it.

  Jaxon: You know that's like the ultimate betrayal. Nikko's freakin pissed off as hell. He has this huge grudge against Braxton... says he stole a girlfriend from him a year ago or some shit.

  Me: Tell him I'm sorry.

  Jaxon: That's not going to do any good at the moment.

  I'm about to text back when another text comes through.

  Jaxon: He wants to kick u out of the band.

  Me: Please don't. Tell him that I'm really sorry and that I'll make it up to him.

  "Or how about tell them to get over it," Quinton says, and I realize he's reading my texts over my shoulder. "Don't let them push you around like that, Nova."

  "They're not pushing me around. I promise," I say, but it doesn't feel like I'm being truthful to myself. "This is just how bands work."

  He brings his foot up on his knee and shakes his head. "Baby, you're too nice sometimes. You need to be more assertive."

  We both freeze a few seconds later when we realize that he called me baby. I'm not sure if I like the nickname or not, but at the same time I like that he's given it to me.

  "Sorry about the baby," he says, his fingers caressing the back of my neck. "I didn't mean for that to come out like that... in fact, I've always thought it was a silly pet name or whatever you want to call it."

  My phone is buzzing in my hand, but I don't look down at it. "It's okay," I say. "You can give me a pet name, but maybe just not baby."

  He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. "Then what do you want me to call you? Sweetie?"

  I shake my head. "Too sugary. And I'm not sugary."

  "I beg to differ," he says musingly. "But if you don't want me to call you that, I won't."

  "I've always liked when you call me Nova like the car," I admit, wanting to throw my phone against the ground as it buzzes again. I should be more worried that my band is upset, but being here, and why I came here, have got me distracted.

  The corners of his lips quirk. "That's a really long nickname."

  "Well, how about this," I say. "How about you just call me Nova, except for special occasions, like my birthday and yours, and then you'll call me Nova like the car."

  He wets his lips with his tongue and it makes me want to kiss him again... never stop kissing him. "Sounds good to me," he says, and then he leans in, brushing his lips across mine as if he's read my mind or something.

  It's a quick kiss, though, and we end up breaking apart as my phone buzzes for the fourth time.

  Jaxon: I told him u were sorry, but he's still pissed.

  Jaxon: Nova, I think we might really have to kick u out, at least for a while.

  Jaxon: Nova, what the hell. Please respond.

  Nikko: I can't believe u played for another band.

  I stare at the screen forever, wondering what to type. The more I think about it, the more anxious I get, which isn't what I need at the moment. So in the end I put my phone away and rest my head on Quinton's shoulder.

  "Are you okay?" he asks.

  I nod. "Yeah, or at least I will be. I just need to relax and breathe for a while."

  He doesn't argue, resting his head on mine, and we sit that way for the next hour. It's probably one of the best hours I've had in my entire life, and if I could, I'd just stay this way, frozen in time, but I know I can't. It's part of my problem. Never wanting to let go. Fearing big changes. Fearing what will happen if I alter my life. Take risks.

  Finally the sun starts to set and we get up from the bench and make our way home. But we stop at a construction site for Quinton to show me the house he's working on. It's not much at the moment, but I can see why he's so proud. Putting a home together for a family that needs it.

  "It's amazing," I say as I make a circle around the first floor, which doesn't have walls. The floor is plywood. There are spotlights set up on the ground to light up the area as people work hard in the dark to get the house finished. "It's like a real house and everything."

  He watches me as he grips a beam above our head. "As opposed to a fake one?"

  I laugh and then playfully swat his arm. "You know what I mean."

  He laughs and the sound is so breathtaking that I have to take out my camera and record it. "Smile for the camera, please," I tell him, lifting my phone up and aiming it at him.

  "Are you going to record everything?" he wonders as I zoom in on his face.

  I lower the camera, frowning. "Sorry. Is it bothering you?"

  He shakes his head, seeming genuine. "No, I just want to know. That's all."

  "Oh." I raise the camera back up and he
appears on the screen again. "I'll stop in a little while. I just want to remember all this... and recording makes me feel better."

  "Well, then record away while I give you the grand tour," he says, releasing the beam, then proceeds to lead me around the home, introducing me to people here and there. He smiles so much as he points out everything, telling me which pieces he's put together. He's proud of his accomplishment and he should be. It makes me want to accomplish more myself.

  "You look so happy," I dare to say as we head up the stairs to the second floor.

  His forehead creases. "I do?"

  I nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "It makes me want to do stuff like this," I say. "Well, not like this, since I can't build, but help people in some way."

  "You help people more than you think," he says, trailing off as we arrive on the top floor.

  There's a thirtysomething guy with a scruffy jaw, wearing a plaid coat, banging a hammer against a piece of wood. Country music plays on a stereo in the corner and a small light is perched in the center of things, illuminating the darkness night has brought on.

  "And this is Wilson," Quinton says as he approaches the guy with a sort of uneasy look on his face.

  Wilson glances up at Quinton, seeming startled. "Holy shit, I didn't see you even come in here." His eyes drift to me and he lowers the hammer to his side. "Who's this?" He asks it, but it sounds like he already knows who I am.

  "This is Nova," Quinton tells him, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  Recognition crosses Wilson's face as he sets the hammer down on the floor, then brushes his hands off on the sides of his pants. "It's nice to meet you," he says, approaching me with his hand extended.

  I grasp it and shake it. "It's nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you."

  Wilson glances over at Quinton with a cocky look on his face and Quinton rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Well, I hope good things," Wilson says, returning his attention to me.