Brighter (Brighter #1)

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Brighter (Brighter #1) Page 18

by Rochelle Allison


  I cringed.

  “She chose not to come back for Christmas break, and when I got back to the states after break...she was already fooling around with someone else. The end.”

  “That’s shitty.” I bit my lip, absorbing what he'd just told me. I felt for him; of course, I did—but was I supposed to pay for a high school girl’s sins?

  “Took me a long time to get over her. And there have been a few who moved down, and then left and... I don’t know. You learn to guard your heart after a while.”

  “I get that more than you think,” I said. “But if I’m going to try, then you have to try.”

  “St. Croix’s not for everybody.”

  “Are you listening to me?” I asked, exasperated. “I love it here. And even if I didn’t…I love you. I’d follow you anywhere.”

  It was like the tension in his body melted, just like that.

  “You trust me?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He picked up my glass of water and led me back inside. We turned the lights off in the kitchen and returned to bed, turning the TV off, too. I confirmed my flight on my phone, setting my alarm and responding to a text from my mother. She couldn’t wait to pick me up from the airport—we’d never been apart this long.

  I put my phone down, rolling over to find Jude watching me. He clicked off the light and curved around me, his lips on my neck. “You can trust me, too.”

  I smiled in the dark. “I know.”

  ~

  St. Croix fell away as we ascended, the buildings and cars growing tinier by the second. Pressing my forehead to the window, I stared until it disappeared, water replacing the land I’d grown to love. I sat back, chest tight, my stomach in knots. I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t stay—and it hurt.

  I tried to lose myself in a book. Mom had said they’d been having a series of cold fronts lately. Miami wasn’t that far from the U.S. Virgin Islands, but the sky grew cold and grey as we flew, and by the time we landed, I’d pulled a hoodie on over my shirt.

  I turned my phone back on, heart squeezing at the photo on my lock screen. It was Jude and me, a couple of hours ago, still in bed with lazy smiles and sad eyes. We’d had a quiet morning, making love in the shower as he pinned me to the wall, his hands running the length of my wet skin. Breakfast at the kitchen counter, eggs and toast and lemongrass tea. Promises to visit. We were doing the one thing neither of us had ever wanted to do: have a long-distance relationship. I didn’t cry until I walked through security, Jude disappearing behind me.

  But now I was back in the States, back at the Miami airport, carried along by rivers of people flowing through the terminals and emptying into baggage claim. My phone buzzed against my leg, and I stepped aside to look at it. Mom said she was in baggage claim.

  I took a picture of baggage claim and texted it to Jude. Miss you.

  He texted a minute later with a picture of the desk at Larsen’s. Miss you too.

  Warmed by the contact, I put my phone back in my purse and waited for my suitcase to make its way around on the carousel.

  “Alina!” Mom’s voice cut through the din. I spun, squinting around the chaos in arrivals seconds before she barreled into me with a hug. “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”

  I squeezed back, relishing the feeling of being held by my mother. “I missed you.”

  “I have missed you, too, more than you know.” She pouted, trying not to cry, I could tell. “You don’t even look the same, honey. You’re so tan! I’m jealous. And look at all that hair! You look like a mermaid.”

  I chuckled at her chattiness, nodding. “I know. I haven’t cut it since I left.”

  “Don’t; it’s beautiful. Did you color it?”

  “Nope, it’s just the sun.” My bags appeared on the belt, and I grabbed them as they passed.

  “How’s Adam?”

  “Fine—he’s over at Warner’s.” She slung one of my bags over her shoulder. “They just got out of school. Remember those days?”

  We stepped through the automatic doors and out into the hubbub. A fine mist fell, and it was surprisingly cool. Cars and people bustled by, heading every which way. Everything felt bigger, faster. It was surreal. Had I really been gone for six months?

  “It’s so good to have you home,” Mom murmured as we crossed over to the parking garage. She touched my bracelet, glancing at me. “This is new.”

  I smiled, but my stomach ached. “Yeah.”

  “From your new boy-toy?”

  “Ugh, Mom.” I laughed a little. “You make me sound like a cougar hunting for fresh meat. Jude is my boyfriend.” My tummy fluttered. I hadn’t been able to say that in years.

  “Am I going to meet him?” Her eyes glittered knowingly. It never failed—despite my mother’s many failed relationships and warnings I not follow in her footsteps, she still had a fairy-tale heart deep down. Sometimes I wondered if she saw things differently now that we were both older.

  She’d taken to Theo, her mistrust of his money soon giving way to adoration when she saw how well he treated me and how close we were. And while she hadn’t quite gotten there with Jude, yet, she wasn’t stupid. I’d spent the past month with him. He mattered, and she knew it.

  “I hope so.” My eyes filled with tears. “Where’d you park, Mom?”

  “Over here.” She quickened her steps, leading me to the ancient Toyota she’d been rocking since I was a freshman—in high school. We tossed my bags inside and hit the road, wanting to avoid rush hour if we could.

  Halfway home, she shut the radio off. “You’re a little quiet. Is everything okay?”

  I stared at the bracelet, fingering the little bits of chaney. They were like puzzle pieces into another time. Sort of like my memories of St. Croix. A flash of panic squeezed my gut. Is that all it was now? Memories? If he couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t go back…

  “Alina?”

  “I’m just tired,” I said, copping out.

  But my mother knew me. “You miss Jude.”

  “Yes.” I took a deep breath to avoid crying. This was why I stayed single. Who had time for all this?

  “Hey.” She clasped my hand. “It’s okay honey.”

  “It’s not, but it will be.”

  “Tell me about him.” She squeezed and then let go, flicking on the windshield wipers.” I know he’s easy on the eyes, but…”

  “He’s so much more than that.”

  “He must be, for you and Theo to break things off.”

  “Mom.” I side-eyed her. “Theo and I were not together. Not the way you’re thinking.”

  “Really? Well, if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck…”

  Classic—goading me with insinuations and raised eyebrows, knowing I’d inevitably fill in the blanks. I decided to give her what she thought she wanted. “Theo was…is…one of my best friends. I love him. And maybe I was a little in love with him at one point. I don’t know.” I blew my bangs from my face. “Yes, we had a physical relationship. No, it wasn’t going anywhere. We both knew that.”

  Mom’s silence was charged, and I knew she was trying to adjust what she thought she knew about me and Theo.

  “As for Jude, I fell for him the second I saw him. And I fought it until…I couldn’t anymore.”

  “Why would you fight something like that?”

  I didn’t have the energy for this. I was hungry and tired, and my heart hurt. “Can we stop somewhere to eat? I’m starved.”

  “Of course,” she said, pulling into a parking lot. We were at our go-to tapas bar. “Where did you think we were going? Come on. I’ll even let you have a beer.”

  ~

  Theo and I hadn’t texted at all over the past month. We’d stretched our relationship about as far as we could, and it would never go back to its original shape.

  Still, I missed him. I checked his social media sometimes, equal parts relieved and wistful. He was up north these days, visiting friends all over New England before coming home for Christmas. Finally, I c
ouldn’t take it anymore. I sent him a message one night, hoping he’d respond—and he did.

  I miss you! When are you coming home?

  The 24th. Miss you too.

  Caroline and I fell into our old routines, for the most part. She and Jeremiah had not gotten back together, to my surprise.

  “I don’t need him; I have you,” she said one night, downing the rest of her wine. “Thank God. Don’t ever leave me again.”

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “Ha! Sharon’s my homegirl.”

  I topped off our wine glasses. “Well, neither of you have anything to worry about. I’m broke as a joke, and school starts in a few weeks…suffice to say I’m locked in.”

  Caroline frowned. “That sounds depressing. Vacation hangover?”

  More like a Jude hangover. We talked every night before bed, usually after a day of texts. It was an ongoing conversation, peppered with pictures of all the things I hoped to show him one day.

  Like the outside of the townhouse I’d grown up in, which looked even smaller now that I’d been gone. The apartment I shared with Caroline. My bedroom. My favorite parts of campus. Favorite beaches, which may not have held a candle to those in St. Croix, but remained close to my heart.

  Jude sent pictures, too. The rainforest, and Dorsch Beach. His patio. That bed—I pulsed deep inside, thinking about what he’d done to me there—and that dream of a shower. The view from Larsen’s, overlooking the harbor. Drinks he promised to make me when I got back.

  Lemon drop. I'll put extra sugar on the rim for you.

  Bellini. Sounds a little like your name.

  Sidecar. Just so I can get you drunk.

  I closed my eyes, remembering all those nights at Larsen’s. The music, the din of the crowd—the yeasty smell of beer mingling with food from upstairs and the salty tang of the harbor. Jude’s gaze had always found mine across the crowd. Missing him was a tangible thing, and the pain of it wasn’t fading.

  On Christmas morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon, coffee and pancakes. Nostalgia filled my heart—it’d been a good call to stay overnight at the townhouse with Mom and Adam. Grabbing my phone, I called Jude.

  “Morning, Alina,” he said, and I could hear him smiling. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Yeah? Merry Christmas!”

  He chuckled. “Merry Christmas.” There was music in the background, and voices.

  “What are you up to? How’re your parents?”

  “They’re fine—we’re about to have breakfast. My mom was just asking about you.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “What did she say?”

  “She saw that picture...the one of us on Tommy’s boat.”

  I knew that picture. I loved it. We’d just left St. John, tan and wild and so in love with each other we could hardly contain it. I loved knowing there was a picture of us on his fridge now, that I was represented in his life that way. It kept things real. Tangible. “I love that picture.”

  “Me too.”

  We fell quiet. I sat up, smoothing the blanket over my legs. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Just a few more months, then maybe we can figure something out for Spring Break.”

  We chatted awhile longer, until there was a soft knock on my door. “Alina?”

  “It’s open, Mom.”

  She poked her head in. “You want coffee?”

  I nodded. “Jude, I—”

  “You can go ahead,” he said. “I have family stuff, too.”

  “It’s good having them home, huh?”

  “It is. Only thing missing is you.”

  “Listen to you…”

  “Send me a picture,” he said.

  I glanced at my mother, who got the hint and ducked out.

  “Alina?”

  “Hold on,” I said, switching to my phone’s camera. Eyeing myself, I smoothed my hair and took a couple of selfies. I’d looked better, but whatever. “Okay. I just sent one.”

  “Just came though. Hold on,” he said.

  A photo popped up in my texts. I opened it, grinning at the image of Jude in his room, one arm behind his head. Shirtless of course. “Tease,” I said.

  Adam opened my door. “I’m hungry, yo. Can we get going?”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too,” I called after him, closing the door so I could get off the phone in private. “I should go. I love you.” Saying it out loud still made me feel like I was stepping off a cliff, exhilarating and scary, but I couldn’t keep it quiet. I needed him to know.

  “Love you too. Have fun today.”

  ~

  Theo gave me a call around lunch. We caught up for a while, making plans to meet for breakfast the next day. He was already waiting for me when I got to the diner.

  “You're already losing your tan,” I teased, sliding into the booth he’d claimed.

  “You’ll catch up soon enough,” he said with his signature smirk. I’d missed that face, I realized.

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me.” I’d been apprehensive things might feel stilted between us, but it that wasn’t the case. There was comfort, familiarity, but a new vibe too. We’d evolved, I supposed.

  “How’s it feel to be back?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same, seeing as you’ve been jet-setting around the east coast since last I saw you.”

  “I came home for a minute,” he said, glancing over his menu. “And I’m home now.”

  “For how long?”

  He smiled, looking up at me. “Couple days.”

  “That’s it?” I shook my head. “But you love New Year’s in Miami.” Theo took a sip of water, his cheeks reddening. “What are you not telling me? Did you”— I leaned forward dramatically— “meet someone?”

  “I did. But we’re just hanging out.” He shrugged, back to his normal, cocky self. Our waitress stopped by, taking our order. I watched her walk away, knowing Theo was watching me. “What?”

  “If you like this girl, then go for it. Don’t just ‘hang out’ or any of that bullshit.” I stared at my fork, surprised at myself. Maybe our time as a quasi-couple had affected me more than I realized.

  But Theo just sighed. “I know. That’s why I’m heading back.”

  “What’s her name?” I cocked my head.

  “Abby. You’d like her.” He paused, drumming his fingers on the table. “She’s at NYU.” My heart tugged—with wistfulness, gladness. I loved Theo, and I wanted this for him. I just wished my own happy ending was so simple. As if he could read my mind, Theo cleared his throat. “You never answered my question.”

  I forced a smile. “Which one?”

  “About being home. Adjusting.” He looked away, casually scanning the room. “You still with Jude?”

  He knew I was; we were friends on Instagram and every other method of social stalking. “Yeah.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

  “Because I miss him and being far away from him sucks way worse than I expected,” I said, staring at my plate. “I knew it would be hard, just…not this hard.”

  “I think you’re doing the right thing, for what it’s worth.”

  I gazed into those familiar blue eyes, finding nothing but genuine sympathy. “I think so, too. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

  “You’ve worked really hard and grad school…”

  “Theo.”

  “Okay, okay.” He held his hands up. “So, what are your options, then?”

  “Options? I don’t know. We’re both pretty locked into what we’re doing.” I shrugged, looking away. “We might try to meet up for Spring Break.”

  The drinks came, and then appetizers. Our conversation drifted into another direction. Being around Theo again felt great, and for the first time in a few days I could shake the low-key, Jude-missing melancholy.

  “It was good seeing you,” said Theo, afterward, when he’d walked me to my car. “You look really, r
eally good.”

  Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around him. “Thanks. I’m glad that…that we…”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Love you,” I said, releasing him. “Be good.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “I’m always good.”

 

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