by Emily Childs
“Well, keep in touch. There’s a storm moving in. I don’t like the idea of you out there at night.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake Nils,” Inez says. “She’s almost twenty-two.”
“I agree with Nils,” Farfar mutters. Of course, he does.
“I’ll be fine. We’re just going to dinner. Would you like to come chaperone, Dad?”
He scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, but I kind of think he’s considering the idea.
Agnes bumbles into the room, coloring book in hand. “Bye, Brita. You look weird,” she says and points to my pale-rose lips.
I chuckle and squeeze her tightly, but she winces. “What’s wrong kiddo?”
Agnes points to the brace on her left leg. “It scratches.”
“We’ll fix it munchkin,” Inez says. “Now, let Brita go out. She needs a life.”
“Wow, I feel so loved,” I say. “I’ll be back, don’t wait up,” I add with a scrunch to my nose. Dad doesn’t seem to appreciate my sarcasm.
My first step into the frigid air doesn’t settle with the guilt in the pit of my stomach. But the closer I come to the fluorescent lights of the gas station, the faster the guilt transforms into excitement.
Axel is waiting by the time I arrive. He leans against the passenger side of a blue coupe. A few paces off, I take a moment to absorb all of him. His brown jacket fits his strong arms with near perfection. I like the way his short blond hair shows off the defined shape of his face, but my favorite piece of the Axel canvas is the way his eyes always brighten when he looks at me.
“You made it. You look beautiful,” he says, his white teeth shining through the blue night. Axel moves away from the door and holds it open.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice cracking a bit with a new wash of nerves.
My insides do somersaults when Axel finds his way into the driver’s seat. He rubs his hands for a moment, reviving the blood flow from the frigid air and looks at me. “Ready?”
I nod, and resist the urge to bite my lower lip. When the car moves, Axel drops one hand and then like a dream, he takes mine. I can die a happy woman. Cliché but oh so true. I’ve had eyes for Axel and his brilliant wit, his handsome face, his…everything, since age seventeen. Nothing compares to this headfirst plummet into something unknown.
Axel takes us to a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Like his car, the space feels close, personal. The dark sets the mood, a warmth spreads in my gut. Nerves tingle along my spine, but then ease when the waiter brings us a basket of bread and we fall into lighthearted talk.
To my surprise, in the back a small stage is set up behind moth-eaten black curtains. Halfway into my lasagna the curtains pull back and a young woman with a middle-aged man step out to sporadic applause. They are dressed as if they were lost on the way to a renaissance fair.
The man clears his throat loudly, and Axel peers at me over the rim of his water glass. Something is happening.
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” the man says in a mediocre British accent.
My mouth drops, and I smile as the two performers play through the entire orchard scene of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. There are a few blunders, and at times the gasping passion and method acting as they profess undying love is a little hard to swallow. Still at the end of the scene I pound my hands together with such vigor that I’m teetering close to calling for an encore.
The curtains close and the lights brighten a little more. I’m sure Axel will tease me, but when I face him, he simply wears a satisfied grin. He’s thoughtful, but entertained.
“Did Jonas tell you?” I ask.
“Tell me what?” He seems genuinely confused. “Jonas hasn’t said anything to me. I didn’t even tell him we were going out tonight, although he said you did.”
“In my defense I wondered if it had been your brother who’d told you to take me out,” I say, but catch myself before I confess Jonas knows about my years-long crush.
Axel shrugs. “I don’t know why Jonas would tell me to ask you out. After we came to your dad’s office the other day, when I saw you—I don’t know, I realized I’d been letting what other people think stop me from something great. I mentioned that I thought you looked amazing when we left. Believe it or not, it was Logan who suggested we do this.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Logan?” Thinking back to the grocery store that morning, I can think of zero reasons why Logan would ever suggest Axel and I spend time together. “That’s hard to believe.”
“I know he’s rough around the edges, but he’s a good friend. He thinks we might hit it off.”
“And what do you think?”
Axel props one elbow on the table and flashes one of his smiles that means he is up to something. One of my favorite smiles. “You understand the circumstances aren’t really…normal.” Where is this going? I cover the anxious beats of my heart with a toss of my hair over my shoulder. He studies my face for a moment longer. “But so far, I think I couldn’t care less what anyone else says. This might be the best secret I’ve ever kept.”
He leans his shoulder against my arm, leaving an imprint of heat where we touch. I fumble with my words for a moment as I analyze what he means. If I understand him right, then the feud bothers Axel as much as it does me. This is the moment, the time I might be the person my grandmother asked me to be. With Axel’s help maybe we can bring the change our families need. Clearing my throat, I sip some water and stare down at the ratty stage.
“So, how did you know about my love of Shakespeare if Jonas didn’t tell you?”
Axel takes a long drink of his water before drawing his face inches from mine. I can smell his masculine scent and like a trap it draws me in until I am completely captured. “Logan again. He told me this place did performances on the weekends. I knew you were an English major, so I took a gamble that you’d enjoy a little bit of Shakespeare.”
I remind myself to put aside my frustrations with Logan and thank the man. Scooting a little closer an insatiable desire to feel his hand on mine again fills my insides with warmth. I don’t have to wait long. Like a natural reflex Axel curls his fingers around my hand, turning my palm over in his and tracing my lifeline with his thumb. A shiver shoots up my arm until it reaches my head and creates a pleasant fog in my brain.
“You were very right,” I whisper.
Axel smiles, then leans closer. Was this happening? I swallow, trying to clear the path for my airway to start passing air again.
“I’m glad we did this, Brita,” Axel says. His lips are so close, only a few more inches. My heart pounds like a war drum in my ears.
“Me too,” I breathe out.
Axel’s hand comes to the side of my face, and I lean into his warmth. You know in movies when couples kiss and sweet music plays all around as if heaven stamps approval on their love? I can check off the same thing from my bucket list.
With a perfect balance of steadiness and anticipation, Axel draws my lips to his. Right there in the back booth of the restaurant. From the stage a new scene is setting up, and over a pair of rumbling speakers plays the peaceful sonnet of a harp. I’ve kissed three guys in my life. Well, four if you count Lionel Hendricks in first grade, but I don’t. Yet in that moment all my training is lost. Axel’s palm cups behind my head, I tremble when his fingers tangle through my hair. Those perfect lips I’ve dreamed about move seamlessly against mine. I’m embarrassed that he knows what he’s doing ten times more than I do, but I don’t want him to stop. I lean against him; his hand traces the curve of my waist. Maybe we kiss for thirty seconds, or ten minutes, I don’t care. I’ve finally gotten my first addicting taste.
Chapter 9
Jonas will only drive me to the office on Thursday now, when Axel works at Clara’s. Every other day is spent in the blue coupe, my fingers laced with Axel’s. Driving with him is the only thing that makes the upcoming separation bearable. One more day remains before I bid farewell to Lindström and return to school.
My campus isn’t far from home, but tonight Axel heads to Wisconsin. Since he is in the first year of his therapy program, I have a feeling when classes start he will become a memory. I don’t know when we’ll talk, or see each other. Of course, he promises when we’re both home for weekends we’ll get together, but I’m a grown up; I know what the final semester of a year looks like at school. And I’m also not blind enough to realize that Axel seems less concerned about the separation than me.
When nights come, if he is aloof about leaving, those thoughts seem far away when he kisses me. The final week is spent together, every night building on the one before. I am falling headfirst into something. I’m not sure what yet, but I like it.
“You look tired.”
I startle and drop my pen.
Jonas smiles, lifts a brow and leans against my cubical wall.
“And you wear glasses,” I mumble.
I think his cheeks color a bit when he pulls off the stylish eyeglasses. “Yep, cursed with the worst eyes in the family,” he says. “I ran out of contact solution, so of course Axel and Bass are living it up at home with the dweeb, nerd, you name it, remarks. After living with them, I can take whatever you’ve got.”
“I was just thinking you look good in them, but I can see it’s a sensitive subject for you.”
I laugh and rock in my chair, a habit that happens when I’m nervous. And usually around Jonas. He’s not wearing a suit today, but he looks handsome in his navy polo shirt and dark jeans. Today is our final Friday at the Anderson-Collins law firm, and thankfully the firm set a New Year’s resolution to institute casual Fridays. I’m not debonair like Jonas, but Jane always tells me green makes my eyes pop and so a green tunic it is.
“So, I wanted to check on that report. Have you had a chance to run through it?” Jonas asks, a hint of anxiety in his tone. “I need to turn it in before we go today.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. I rummage through the top drawer and return his black leather folder. “Sorry it took so long, but Martin gave me two full grant applications to run through last minute. It’s all done.”
“Was it awful?”
For the first time since really talking to Jonas, he seems unsure about something. The last three weeks I’ve grown to admire his confidence and innate drive to work. Dad even mentioned he thinks Jonas will make a fine attorney. Yet I’ve been given control for a moment. And if I had a more sinister bone, I might twist his nerves more. He’s stepped into my realm of know-how. I do love seeing a bit of vulnerability from strait-laced Jonas Olsen.
Because he knows I am obsessed with words I even cackle, wickedly. “I sense fear, Mister Olsen.”
“Have I told you how dorky you are?”
“No, would you please?”
Jonas drags his fingers through his hair, a tell that he’s uncomfortable, but not enough to leave.
Mylanta, when did I start to know so much about this guy? I slump down in my chair. “Alright, I won’t make you sweat anymore, but I need to be honest.
He nods and scratches his chin. “I hope you are.”
I lean forward, steeple my fingers in front of my lips just to add a touch of theatrics. He looks at me like I’ve pulled a knife on him. “Jonas,” I say sternly. “If you wanted to switch majors, you would find a viable career in writing.”
“Don’t tease me. I need to get better, I know.”
“I’m not teasing,” I insist, standing so I can look him in the eye. “Your report was the first legal jargon mess I’ve actually enjoyed reading. You have a way with words. There may have been a few punctuation sins, but I mean it. You did really well.”
Jonas’s smile is different than Axel’s, I already know that. I revel in his impishness, but I won’t admit to anyone but myself that I find the same enjoyment in Jonas’s. He has a genuine look to his smile, trusting and gentle. He frees it only when he is truly pleased, or happy. When he’s nervous, his lips press together, or he messes with his hair. Agitated, Jonas gets a furrow over his nose. Okay, that’s enough. My palms start to sweat when I let my thoughts of his quirks run wild.
But I am not the only one studying. Jonas watches me, his eyes bounce between mine. A buzz jolts through my insides. Clearing my throat, I take a step back until the threat of blushing passes.
“You’re serious?” he asks. “You’re not just trying to make me feel good?”
“Yes, I’m serious.” I shove his shoulder gently. “I never thought of you as insecure before now.”
“I don’t like writing, and I especially don’t like other people reading what I write. But if you’re not just trying to make me feel better, it gives me hope. I have a writing class this semester. Obviously, I’ve been putting it off all these years and I swear it, if that’s the class that keeps me from graduating...”
“You’ll do fine. Now you get to come to my side of the campus. Do you know the professor?”
Jonas shakes his head. “I’ve hardly glanced at my schedule. But I needed a language class and the advisor suggested the one I picked. I believe his exact words were, ‘A sleep through it and pass class’.”
I wiggle my finger. “Don’t think language arts is an easy ‘A’. But you shouldn’t worry too much, I’m not just being nice. I know you need to write a good report, so I would tell you if it’s something you really needed to work on.”
Jonas flips open his folder, his eyes scan the contents before he flashes me a half grin. “Well, thank you for reading it.”
“No problem.” Jonas rocks on his heels as if he wants to say something more. I pause long enough to give him the chance, then determine he is bound to simply stand there, so I take the initiative. “It’s been interesting working together. I’ve actually had a good time getting to know you.”
Jonas lets out a long breath, and the corners of his mouth curl up a bit. “Me too, and you even got a little something more out of the deal.” I’m certain color stains my cheeks. Jonas doesn’t let it slide either. “Oh, is that embarrassment, Brita Jacobson? Maybe this is the part where I ask what your intentions are with my brother.”
“Okay, you can go back to work now,” I say, turning my back to him.
“I’m actually wrapping up the last few things for your dad and then I’m finished. I’ve got a few minutes.” Jonas steps into the small cubby and hops onto the edge of my desk, his legs dangle off the side. Those royal blues slice through me, but not in an intimidating way, sort of breathtaking.
“You’ve gone out with Axel a few times,” he says. “How is it going? Everything you ever imagined?”
“We’re not having this conversation.”
“Why not? Thought we were friends now.”
“We…are…” I stammer. “But do you really want to know what your brother does at night?”
Jonas lifts his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. What are you two going to do with school though?”
“It’s called a phone, Jonas.”
He chuckles, but it wasn’t as light as before. “Okay, sure. Axel has played the field a lot before, but he seems to like spending time with you. Maybe you can tame his wild ways. Are you seeing him before he leaves?”
“Just for a little while. He wants to get on the road early.”
It isn’t a secret Axel has his fair share of ex-girlfriends, and I’ve been thinking of little else the last few days. I don’t know who is in his graces in Wisconsin, but I’m not going to be that girl. I refuse to be the possessive, clingy one. I might want to be, but I won’t.
“Well, I guess time will tell,” he says.
“Your confidence is underwhelming.”
He hops off my desk, grinning. “Sorry. I’m sure it will be great.”
“Yeah, stop being encouraging, you’re not good at it.”
Jonas shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to inch out of my cubicle. Our carefree minutes are waning before adulting will take over. “What are your plans for getting back to school?”
“The bus tomorrow nigh
t, Sunday set up and move in day, then classes bright and early Monday. My roommate is already back at the apartment, so I don’t have too much to do. What about you?”
Jonas glances at his nemesis The Copier, and his lips together. The Jonas is Nervous About Something look. “Well,” he finally starts, “I was going to see if you want to skip the bus and just ride up with me. We’re going to the same place, and since we’ve both realized we aren’t the Devil’s spawn, kind of seems ridiculous having you sit on a smelly bus when I can take you.”
“I don’t mind the bus, for your information,” I say, poking his arm. But the truth is, I really like the idea of driving with Jonas.
“Okay, ride the bus then. I will enjoy snacks and eighties music by myself.”
“Wait, you said nothing about eighties music.”
“Oh, yeah. The entire time.”
“Jonas, you had me at eighties. I would love to road trip with you.”
He drums the top of the cubicle and smiles. “Great. So, we’ll meet tomorrow night at say, seven?”
“That’s perfect. Thanks for the offer.”
“Okay, have fun tonight,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
Axel’s mouth is near my ear, he kisses me there. A tremble runs down my spine. I pull away and lean against the window in the front of his car. My hair is wilder than before, and Axel keeps his hand on the top of my knee. He turns in his seat, facing me, a coy grin on his face. My grandmother would blush shamelessly if she were alive to see how quickly I’d fallen into such a relationship, and with an Olsen, no less. Part of me wonders how Axel and I went from very few interactions, to magnetized lips. I suppose years of pent up tension on my part has something to do with it. Axel’s reasons are still a mystery.
“So, you’re riding with Jonas tomorrow?”
I smile shyly. “Yes, he was nice enough to offer.”
“Maybe I’ve got competition with my own brother.” He kisses my lips, then my jaw, cheek, lips again.
I close my eyes, try not to make any weird sighing noises, and shake my head. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. It’s a good thing if I’m friends with your brother, don’t you think?”