by Megan Bryce
Nikita sat back and puffed in a breath, then opened her mouth to exhale as if she’d forgotten she wasn’t really smoking.
“Maybe. But a relationship is destined to fail if it is not between equals. It will fail then, too, but for different reasons.”
She sounded like she had experience with failed relationships.
Flynn looked up at the portrait again and said, “Okay. I accept.”
Nikita’s eyebrows pulled together a pinch. “You accept?”
Flynn nodded. “Of course we’ll fail. Of course this crazy craziness won’t last. Of course she’ll realize one of these days that I am not enough and wonder why she’s letting me be with her. I accept all of that. And I’ll accept all of that for as long as she’ll let me.”
Nikita said, “Hmm,” and Flynn didn’t jump as Nicole leaned over his shoulder and pecked his cheek.
She murmured, “They’re not right.”
Flynn said, “They are, but I’d put up with any kind of hell to be with you. And I’m not lying when I say your life sounds like hell.”
She smiled at him, not looking like Nikita at all anymore, just looking like Nicole.
“Let’s go home,” she said. “I still want to finish watching Thor.”
He smiled back, rising to follow her because he’d follow her anywhere.
“No, you don’t.”
Nicole glanced at her mother, not saying a word as they left. And Nikita just watched them go, puffing on her oxygen.
“Thank you for coming with me. And I’m sorry about my mother.”
“She’s not worse than mine, just different,” Flynn said, and Nicole laughed in the darkness of her car.
“I don’t know why you think so,” she said and Flynn shrugged.
“Everybody thinks their parents are the worst. Except for those who don’t, and something’s just not right with them.”
She reached for his hand and he could hear her smiling in the darkness. A streetlight would illuminate her face for a moment and then he could see it, too.
And he just watched.
Nicole in the dark. Nicole in the light.
Smiling at him, with him.
Showing him more than just a sliver.
He said, “I do love you. She was right about that.”
And, poof, Nicole disappeared just like that. Not showing him anything anymore.
Her face froze and her hand slid from his.
And this is what he got for wanting more.
He’d realized what this was. And he’d wanted her to know, too.
Nicole looked towards him– not at him, just his general direction– and said, “Thank you, Flynn.”
“Thank you?”
She nodded and he looked behind him in case he’d missed something. Anything.
He hadn’t.
“Okay. Well. You’re welcome.”
He looked out the windscreen, at the lights now illuminating the hood.
In the dark. In the light. In the dark.
He waited a few, long silent minutes before saying, “I didn’t think anything could be more awkward than your mother telling me I loved you. Guess it was me telling you.”
He glanced at her turned-away face. “Was it something I wasn’t supposed to say?”
Nicole said, “It’s okay, I just don’t know. . .how to reply.”
“Well. That’s what I said when your mother said it. Well.”
“Well, then. Well?”
“It wasn’t a question. It was, ‘Well, then. Look at that. You’re right.’”
Silence.
Stop.
No.
Not welcome.
Flynn looked out his side window.
They stopped at a red light and Nicole said softly, “We’ve only known each other well for a few months now. You can’t really know me enough to love me.”
His eyebrows flew up. “I can’t know you enough to love you? Can I like you? I can want you?” He turned toward her again, saw the crack in her mask, and said, “Oh. You think I love Nicole Bissette.”
“I am Nicole Bissette.”
“No, you aren’t. Okay, yes, you are. But that’s not all you are. And that’s not the part of you I love. She’s got that crazy-bitch-I’m-resting face and I don’t mind telling you that it’s a little scary.”
“Flynn–”
“But maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s too soon. I mean, if you don’t think you might love me too, then I must think I love you because you’re Nicole Bissette.”
“You didn’t say I think I love you. You said I love you.”
He stared at her. “It loses a little something when you add the I think to the front of that statement.”
“It would have made me feel better.”
He continued to stare at her and she said, “I think it’s safe to assume I have some issues. See how that makes it easier to swallow?”
“Easier to swallow. I see.”
“Flynn. . .”
He took a deep breath. “Yes?”
She looked down at her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight it was going to break in two.
“Nothing to say,” he said. “Can’t even consider the idea that I might actually love you. Can’t even let yourself wonder if you love me?”
He opened the door, in the middle of the night, on some random corner nowhere near his apartment.
“Well,” he said, and he walked away.
Megan BryceBoring Is The New Black
Thirty-Six
The steering wheel cracked ominously under Nicole’s hands and she oh-so-calmly took her hands off it.
And then she oh-so-gently locked the doors.
She watched Flynn walking away in her rearview mirror and she flinched when the car behind her honked its horn impatiently.
The light had turned green and Nicole didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to leave Flynn, didn’t want to go after him.
The other driver pulled around her, giving her the New York salute as he passed, and Nicole slowly angled her car over as far as she could and put on her hazard lights.
She watched Flynn wave down a taxi. Watched him get in.
Watched him drive off.
Nicole pulled back in to traffic, driving so slowly and so carefully that she pulled into the first parking spot she saw with relief.
She oh-so-gently picked up her phone and oh-so-calmly texted Gia.
Awake?
She closed her eyes and silently begged.
Please, please, please. Be awake.
Less than a minute later, her phone rang and Gia said hello with, “Did you know that they have the death penalty in Florida?”
Nicole said breathlessly, “I did not know that.”
“I looked it up. And it may or may not be related, but lots of people die accidentally as well. On the beach, in the everglades, from too much beer.”
“I’m sorry you want to kill your boss.”
“Thank you. Why do you sound like you’re talking through a straw?”
Nicole took a shallow breath.
“Because I think I’m hyperventilating.”
“Put your head between your legs and take big breaths.”
Nicole pushed her seat back so she could bend over, and Gia sing-songed, “Big breath in. Big breath out. One arm up. One arm down. One foot pointed. One foot flexed. One eye open. One eye closed. One cheek clenched. One cheek loose.”
Nicole opened both eyes and sat up. “Are you just making this up?”
“Worked didn’t it? Why were you having a panic attack?”
“I’ve had a really rough couple of hours.”
“Story time! Let me get comfortable. . . Okay, go.”
Nicole didn’t go. She just sat there, not knowing what to say and where to start. Not even to someone who knew her and loved her and wouldn’t be at all surprised that she had issues.
Gia waited a beat, then said, “Just start at the beginning.”
So Nicole started at the beginning
of the end.
“Scott called me from a club because he’d been making out with Colette.”
And wasn’t it both funny and sad that the knot Nicole hadn’t realized was squeezing her stomach and chest loosened when she could focus on Scott and Colette and not Flynn.
Gia said, “Wait, Victoria’s Scott? Your brother, Scott?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s. . . I’m trying to work it out. . . Are they blood related in any way?”
“No.”
“Okay. So the ick factor is just that you’re related to both of them and it’s not actually illegal?”
“It’s illegal. She’s seventeen.” Nicole took another, slightly bigger, breath. “She says they didn’t, you know, though. So not illegal, I guess.”
“Isn’t her birthday coming up, too?”
“Thank you. You’re really helping me get through this.”
Gia laughed. “Sorry. You’re right. Next month, when she’s still your sister and he’s still your brother and the age difference is no longer illegal but still disturbingly large, their relationship will still be icky. This is all Nonna’s fault.”
Nicole could normally follow along the jumps Gia made with her logic, but this escaped her.
“How is this your grandmother’s fault? If anything, it’s still my mother’s. Should have told us all years ago.”
Gia cackled in an old witch’s voice, “Your brother will fall in love with your sister, he will! Doesn’t that sound like a curse that would accompany the evil eye?”
Nicole blinked. Then her shoulders started to shake. And then the laughter poured from her along with a few lonely tears.
She found a tissue in her purse, wiping her eyes and her nose and saying, ”Okay, that helped. They don’t have a relationship, they aren’t in love with each other. It was just an accidental hookup at a club. It’s not like they’re going to even see each other again.”
And while Nicole hated to admit her mother could be right about anything, Colette had been embarrassed that Scott was her brother.
Nicole had gone into her room, not saying a word, and Colette hadn’t said anything either. Just looked at herself in her vanity mirror until she’d cried out, He’s your brother!
Yeah.
I know you think I have daddy issues but this is weird right here! Did I know? How could I have known?
I didn’t know. Victoria almost married him and I didn’t know.
Really?
Nicole had nodded and Colette had sniffed.
I was attracted to my sister’s brother. Like, seriously. I took one look at him and wanted him. I don’t know what that says about me but I’m pretty sure it’s not good!
Nicole had kept her face carefully blank and said, We don’t look anything alike.
No, that’s true. You’re a mini-Nikita. Anyone could have been your father, she’d said and then jumped from her chair. Maybe he’s not your brother!
They did a blood test.
Colette had deflated again and then said in a small, sad voice, Do you think it was, like, unconscious?
And Nicole had hugged her and petted her hair.
No. Scott doesn’t look anything like me. He’s handsome and has perfect hair. He wears a TAG Heuer and $500 pants. He’s catnip to your inner kitten.
He really is. I just wanted to rub myself all over him.
Please, stop.
Colette had squeezed her so tight and whispered, Are you mad at me?
Yes, I’m mad at you. Mad that you went to that club, mad that you were doing who knows what drugs. Mad that you’d made out with some random dude who was twelve years older than you. I’m not mad that it turned out to be Scott.
Okay, good. All that other stuff you were already mad at me for anyway. I’m glad it’s not anything new. Glad it’s not because I’m weird and messed up.
Gia said, “You sure they’re not going to see each other again?”
“Colette is freaking out about it still. Scott looked like he wanted to drown himself in the nearest toilet. If he gets over it too quickly. . . I’ll do something. I don’t know.”
“You can sick Victoria on him.”
Because adding another messed-up relationship to the mix would surely make everything all better.
Nicole asked reluctantly, “Have you talked to her?”
“Yes. She’ll get over it.”
Nicole didn’t know about that.
“Don’t let her be alone right now, okay?”
“You can call her, you know.”
“I’m complicated. He’s my brother now and let me tell you something, it complicates things!”
“So you’re just going to let her get over it before you talk to her again? Victoria?”
Nicole smiled a little. “No. I’ll call her. When I think she should be over it.”
“I’ll let you wait until I think she should be over it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Now what else happened tonight because it sounds like disaster was averted re: Scott and Colette.”
And Nicole just blurted it out because she didn’t think she could get it out any other way.
“Flynn told me he loves me.”
Gia gasped. “Awwww.”
“I told him he didn’t.”
Gia sucked in a breath. “Ayyyyy. This was a bad time to move away.”
“There was never going to be a good time.”
“Probably true. Was he naked when he told you? It’s pretty common knowledge that’s a bad time to do it and you could make the whole conversation his fault.”
“No. We’d just come from dropping Colette home and he just said, ‘I love you,’ like. . . like. . . like he just wanted me to know.”
Gia waited.
Nicole whispered, “I told him thank you.”
“Okay, I can hear your voice closing up again. Put your head back between your knees and big breath in. Big breath out. One hand open. Smack your self.”
“Oh, just stop it. I know it was bad. I can’t think of anything worse I could have said.”
“Die rebel scum?”
Nicole leaned her seat all the way back and put her arm over her eyes.
“What am I going to do?”
“Go watch Notting Hill.”
Nicole pulled her arm from her eyes.
“Huh?”
“Go watch it. I’ll wait.”
Gia hung up.
Nicole called her right back.
“I’m in crisis mode here!”
“I know. Thus the romantic comedy featuring the adorable Hugh Grant when he was adorable and not too old to be in a romantic comedy.” Gia took a breath. “You’ve tried sugar, it was an epic fail. Try this. And don’t call me back until you’ve watched it.”
Gia hung up again and Nicole put her phone away.
She put her seat back up.
And then, because she had no friends left, and sugar was a definite fail, she went home and found Notting Hill online and watched it.
A couple hours later, Nicole called Gia back, not caring whether she was awake or not.
Gia answered, groggy but lucid, with, “Did you really watch it or did you just wait long enough for me to think you watched it?”
“I really watched it.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Thank you, Gia. Now I know exactly what to do.”
Nicole said, “First of all, my life is not a movie.”
“Mm-hm.”
“And second of all, the answers to Life, the Universe and Everything are not in a fifteen-year-old rom-com featuring the adorable Hugh Grant.”
Adorable. . .
Were men allowed to be adorable in real life? Sweet?
Selfless and kind?
Were they allowed to be support staff? Play second fiddle?
Gia sighed. “Go watch it again. I’ll wait.”
“Don’t hang up–”
Nicole shook her head at the dial tone and put her
phone away, wondering what kind of life you had to live to actually believe in happy-ending, fairy-tale love.
She was awoken a few hours later by the incessant ringing of her phone and was a lot more groggy and a lot less lucid than her friend when Gia said, “Did you watch it again?”
“I decided to sleep instead.”
“What happened to crisis mode?”
“I think five a.m. happened to crisis mode.”
“Then let me remind you. A wonderfully normal man told you he loved you and you said. . . say it with me now. . . thank you!”
Nicole closed her eyes, wanting to hide under her covers forever.
Gia said, “Now then. What did you learn from Notting Hill?”
“Nothing.”
“Nope. You learned that a regular Joe Schmoe can fall in love with a goddess. You learned that a goddess can fall in love with a regular Joe Schmoe. Have you?”
“What?”
“Fallen in love with your regular Joe Schmoe?”
“Of course not,” Nicole said without thinking.
“Because. . .”
“I don’t know what love is supposed to look like. I’ve never seen it before.”
“Bullhonky. You have. And even if that was really true, you don’t have to have seen it before to know what love looks like.”
“Gia, this is real life.”
“Nicole, do you love Flynn? Don’t think about it, don’t worry about it. Just answer me. Do you love Flynn?”
“Yes! I love him! Maybe! It doesn’t matter!”
“It matters. Go say it back to him. Tell him you’re sorry and you love him. Tell him you maybe love him. Tell him he matters.”
Nicole hung her head. “I can’t. I’m afraid.”
So afraid, even Gia’s grandmother could see it.
Your beauty has cut too many times and you are afraid of it.
Afraid of her own beauty, afraid of others, afraid of having a life.
Gia said, “That’s because this is real life and love is scary. Love means there is something, someone, out there that you care about more than yourself. That’s pretty scary.”
It was terrifying, and Nicole said, “It won’t last.”
“It might. Are you afraid it will or are you afraid it won’t?”
“Yes.”