3. Brianna

My parents went to the movies. I know they’re doing a grocery run when they’re done that. The back door to the patio slides open easily as Asher and I sneak in. The thought hits me for a moment that it’s crazy of us to ‘sneak in’ at all. We’re nineteen and there’s no reason at all to not go right up to the front door and waltz in… except that this town likes to gossip. They make a big deal out of everything.

Whether or not Asher and I are going to last is a topic of conversation in the hair salon according to my grandmother. With the floor creaking as the back door closes softly, all I can think is, it’s none of their damn business.

Asher’s hand, hardened from years of working in the garage with his father, slips into mine. The lock clicks up into place at the same time that I peer up at him.

We’ve been together for years and I’ve never seen him look at me like this. With a hurt that can’t be covered up by an asymmetric grin or a halfhearted, dry humored joke. The dark circles under his hazel eyes tell the story of him not sleeping well. We’re only just learning what life and being adults really is, and it’s so very apparent that it’s taken a toll on Asher and I have no idea why.

Turning fully to face him, I ask again, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Instantly his gaze is ripped from mine and he tries to pull his hand away, angling his body towards the kitchen.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I’m quick to push the words out and grip his hand tighter, adding my second hand as well and giving him a gentle pull. “We can just lay down and if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.”

“Just lay down,” he repeats my words with a hint of humor and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Since when do we just lay down?” he jokes.

It awards him a playful smack to his chest and in return I get a rough chuckle and he squeezes my hand back. There’s a shift, something more natural and more ‘us’ that happens with the small moment.

I cling to it and to him as we climb the stairs. Taking them slowly. Every step he gets closer, to the point that when we’re at my bedroom door, his arm wraps around my waist like it’s supposed to. Leaning back, I fall into him slightly, until the door is opened and I make my way to the bedroom, kicking off my flip flops.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Asher comments. He’s right. I’ve had the same off white furniture since high school. The poster of the boy bands I love are still hung up, the stacks of fantasy novels haven’t budged except the top one, my comfort read, and the matching off white desk is still cluttered.

“Mom said they might paint it and if they do she’s going to rearrange somethings for me,” I tell him easily.

“Your parents love you,” Asher slips his hands into his jeans and looks around as if he hasn’t been in this very room a thousand times before.

“Come on,” I urge him. The bed groans as I climb in and crawl to the side pressed against the wall. It’s not a large room, my older sister got the biggest room apart from my parent’s.

“I don’t know that it’s the best idea, Bri,” Asher confesses with a shrug and a spike of fear races through me.

Sitting up, I stare him down. “Just come lay with me,” I request and when he hesitates, shifting his weight, I add, “please. Please just come lay down.”

I nearly add that we don’t have to talk but he asks me, “Do you even want to be with me or do you just feel sorry for me right now?”

Emotions swell in my throat. “How could you think that?”

“Don’t be mad… for all I know you were coming over to formerly break up with me.”

“Firstly, I’m not mad and secondly?—”

“You didn’t answer me Bri.”

Tears prick my eyes as my voice raises. “Answer what? Do I want to be with you?” I’ve never felt regret like I do now. “It’s been hard not seeing you,” my bottom lip wavers and I strengthen my voice, “but all I want every day is to see you. To be with you. To have you more in my life. Of course I love you and I want to be with you.” Every sentence his expression softens. The resistance is all but gone when I’m finished. “Come here,” I pat the bed and take in a deep steadying breath. “Please, just come here and lay down with me because I miss you and I love you and all I want is to make us right again.”

“Can you stop giving me ultimatums?” he asks me and my head feels light and dizzy. “I know I don’t come to see you like I promised I would but I need you to be with me if we’re together. Really be with me and not sending texts at three am that if I don’t do x y or z we’re done.”

“I’m sorry,” both hands raise and all the reasons I’ve been upset with him this last year races to the forefront of my mind but I push them away. Summer break is almost here and then I’ll be home and we can figure those things out. “I won’t,” I promise him. Right now I just need him to be okay and for us to be okay … and then everything will be okay, won’t it?

Asher swallows thickly and that hurt from downstairs comes back. “You sure you still love me?” he asks and for a moment it looks like his eyes glass over but then that emotion vanishes.

“I love you, I’m in love with you and every way you can say it.” I confess and ball up the floral navy comforter in my hand. “You?”

“I might be a little bit in love with you,” he answers with a smirk and a grin spreads across my face as I grab the closest pillow and chuck it at him.

That’s how he told me he loved me for the first time behind the bleachers at gym. I might be a little bit in love with you. The pillow thuds as he catches it and a small genuine laugh is rough and masculine as he smiles back at me. Before I can press him for more of a reassurance he says, “I’ll always love you Bri. Even when you’re mad at me and overthinking everything, I love you.”