I spring away from the piano, almost falling as I hastily get up from the bench, my foot getting caught. I steady myself in time and take in a deep breath as I take him in.
Yann is standing at the bottom of the stairs, only wearing a pair of dark blue sweatpants. He's leaning against the banister as he stares at me, his bare chest on full display. The light of the living room illuminates his face and he looks unfocused, his hair a little disheveled.
Beautiful.
"I did knock. Twice," I say once I've composed myself.
"And that gives you the right to come in?" His voice isn't as sharp as usual, it sounds tired, groggy, as if he was asleep. Now I understand the unkempt hair, the half-naked body, the way he's squinting his eyes at me a little.
"You still haven't changed the lock." I say even though this is of no relevance at all to what I came here to talk about. Then, "Did I wake you up?"
He sounds annoyed as he replies with, "Yes, you did. What do you want?"
Okay, this may be harder than I thought. If he's switching back into rude-Yann mode, it won't be easy at all. I take a seat on the bench I vacated earlier and brace myself against the piano. "I want to talk."
"I think we already had our little chit-chat."
I cool my rising temper and try to gather my thoughts. I am trying to focus but in my distant periphery, I can see him climbing down the stairs and coming towards me. No, no, no, stay away, I think, I need to think. He comes to stand right in front of me and I can't do anything else but look at him. I hate the unevenness of the situation – of having to look up at him – so I rise from my seat.
"I'm not mad at you," I say. His eyebrows shoot up at that and I correct, "I'm no longer mad at you."
I see him cross his arms, as if closing himself to me and he nods. I walk to him and without meaning to, I touch his arms. At first, he tenses against my touch, but as I try to unfold his arms, he relaxes against me and offers no resistance.
"You hurt me, Yann."
"I know I did. I –"
I cut him off with a shake off my head. "No, I need to get this off my chest. Let me finish."
I take a deep breath and continue, "First, you just refused to look at me after and I thought ok, maybe he's just refusing to acknowledge it and we'll talk about it later. I was hurt but I told myself that it would be alright or maybe not, but that you'd give me an explanation, at least. But then you said those words. And I hated you for it. God, I hated you. I told myself you were this very horrible person and that it was obvious why no one liked you in town and that you would always only have Ellie and Will as friends because they're the only ones who could ever put up with your attitude. I thought horrible things about you," I confess and my throat closes for a moment. Then I say, "I despised you for it. For humiliating me like that. For saying it. But it's not really you saying the words that bothered me, it's the way you said it. With mockery and contempt."
"Tracy," he says but I cut him off again. I'm not mad he's saying my name, I'm distracted by the way it comes out of his lips and I don't want to be distracted. Not now.
"You know, Ellie and Will kept telling me there was more to you. It was hard to believe at first but I did. I believed them and I told myself I would try to see what they saw in you."
I notice that somehow, my hands have trailed down to his own and that we are now holding hands. I ignore it, though his palms feel warm and good against mine. "But then you did what you did and I told myself that they were wrong. That there was nothing more to you."
I pause for a moment, getting my breathing under control. I think he takes it for the end of what I have to say because he says, an uncharacteristic resignation to his voice, "And you came here to tell me that."
He tries to pry his hand away but I hold onto them tightly, squeezing as I look up. "No," I smile. "I came to say that they are right."
His confused and surprised frown almost makes me laugh right then and right there but I force myself to finish this. "Because you apologized. And I know that you meant it. And I know that you're hiding behind this tough armor and whatever else this is, but you do not fool me, Yann. You don't," I say with a firm shake of my head.
He stays silent, looking into my eyes for a moment. He's fully awake now, his blue eyes alert the way they usually are, his body rigid the way it usually is. "Why do you care?" He asks softly.
"That's like asking a mother why she loves her child. She just does," I explain. "I just do."
Yann looks away for a moment, past me and says, always softly, "Not all mothers are like that." He looks back down at me. "Maybe yours, but not all." There's a wan smile on his face that I badly want to replace with a happy one. I feel like scrubbing it off his face and plastering a new and shiny one there.
I don't question his pensive expression. I somehow know he's talking about himself, know he's talking about his own mother. I want to ask but I don't believe now is the right time to. "You can pull all the shit you want from now on," I say, "I'm not letting go."
He shakes his head, more to himself than to me. "Who says I won't hurt you again the way I have?"
"You know," I start, "my father once told me that the most important thing someone can give is not their love. It's their trust." I say. "I'm not going to say that I will give you the benefit of the doubt, I'm not going to say that I want to trust you." I look at him and give his hands a squeeze again. "I trust you. I trust you not to."
His eyes hold mine, serious. Then without any warning, he leans his forehead against mine the way he did that day and my heart starts beating too fast. Either in response to his closeness or in apprehension, I'm not sure. But it's racing again. "You don't even know me, Tracy."
There it is again. My name on his lips. I like it. I like him saying it. "Only because you refuse to let me."
He keeps looking at me then his eyes go down to my lips. I have this sudden urge to scream don't! but I don't. I told him I trusted him and I do. However, I am not sure I am ready to kiss him again. Thankfully, he doesn't and only looks back up into my eyes. "I'm not sure I can," he says, "I'm not sure I can let you in."
I give him a reassuring smile. "At your own pace, Yann. I won't be going anywhere."
He closes his eyes and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips but it's gone as quickly as it appears. "I can tell you have one last thing to say," he says. "What is it?"
I hold my breath for a moment. How did he know? Did my expression give it away? I'm not aware of any particular expression on my face, but then again, the things we want to hide the most are sometimes the ones we reveal the easiest.
"Ask," I say.
His eyes fly open. "What?"
"I wanted to ask something," I say and my throat clogs up. I swallow. "Did you kiss me just so you could say that after?"
He looks away for a moment and I use his command from two weeks ago and say, "Look at me." He does.
My heart is racing in my chest, a wild thoroughbred, unbridled. I don't want to hear him say yes. I know with certainty that if he does, my heart will shatter. It will stop beating for a moment and just explode into a tiny million pieces. I need to know that he wouldn't do this to me no matter how much we don't get along. I need to know that he isn't that mean, that far gone. It feels a bit hypocritical to ask him that when I've just told him I've given him my trust but I need to know. I need to.
"No," he finally says, eyes into mine and I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "I wanted to kiss you."
I pull back at that, surprised. "Why?"
And for the first time since I've known him, Yann smiles at me. The kind of smile I've seen him give Lucy when he first met her. A full smile, tight-lipped but still, a smile. It makes my heart flutter in my chest, and I tell myself that should this be the only smile he ever gives me, I will forever remember it. I'll keep it engraved in my mind.
"Just a sudden urge to." He says. Then he turns serious, "I'm not making you any promises, Tracy. I can't promise I'll be all nice and happy –"
I frown at him, realizing he's getting it wrong. I pull him back to me and look deep into his eyes, wanting him to understand. "I'm not asking you to do any of these things," I say, "I'm not asking you to change, Yann. Yes, you may be a little rough around the edges," I laugh and he smiles, again, "but I'm not asking you to change who you are. Never."
His forehead comes resting back against mine and this time, he's the one squeezing my hand. He gives me a small smile – the third one so far, and yes, I may be counting.
Then I realize that's his way of saying thank you.
I smile.
I squeeze back.
***
The next day, Ellie, Lucy and I spend our time bickering, having pillow fights, bonding, cooking and watching TV. We are exhausted but none of us really care. Just as we lay on the living room floor after having watched a movie, Lucy jumps up and beams at me.
"Can we play Chinese checkers?" She asks. "I brought it from home."
I groan in annoyance. "No, I'm tired, Lu."
She pouts when turns to Ellie who is on my other side. "Ellie, pretty please," she sticks her lower lip out widens her eyes a little, puffing her cheeks. The puppy dog look. No one can resist.
I'm proved right when Ellie says, "Sure." Then she turns to me, "Come on, Tracy. Get your lazy ass up."
I refuse again but when they insist, I'm forced to play. Lucy doesn't even take a minute to run upstairs and get the game. She is back in no time, sprawling herself before us and removing the cover. I stop myself from rolling my eyes as I take the yellow marbles, Lucy the pink and Ellie the white ones. The game starts, with me grouching, Lucy boiling with excitement and Ellie happily playing. However, Lucy's excitement begins to dwindle when she realizes that I am winning.
When my last marble is home, I hear very unflattering comments about me. "You cheater, I'm sure you cheated."
Incredulity seizes me and my eyes widen. "How so?"
"I don't know." She snaps. "When I wasn't looking."
Ellie is ignoring us as she peruses the game before her, trying to find her next best move. I reply to Lucy with narrowed eyes, "Your eyes were glued to that board the whole time we played. Tell me, when weren't you looking?"
She throws me an exasperated glare and as stubborn as she is, she always has to have the last word. "Looking is not watching. I got distracted and you took advantage of that to cheat."
I am at loss for words, too fazed by her audacity. "Whatever."
She gets off the bed and decides to leave the room before I can put both hands on her throat. I hear her whatever as she step outside but I pretend not to hear it. It's always better to ignore Lucy, otherwise, one might go crazy.
Once she's gone, my eyes fall on Ellie who's supposed to be planning her next move. But she isn't. She is only staring at me intently, something on her mind. Her brows are furrowed and she isn't quite meeting my eyes. She's not talking and her face crumples more with each passing second.
"Spit it out," I tell her, impatient.
She sighs and finally meets my eyes. "I don't know where to start."
"From the end, if it makes you feel better." I look up to her, waiting, giving her time.
"He likes me." She states after a minute.
James likes her. This much was obvious to me. "I know."
Her eyes snap to me as of asking me you knew? I nod without hearing the question because I know that this is what she's asking. "Was I the only one not to notice?" Her voice is exasperated and I almost smile. "I mean, I knew he liked me but he really really likes me."
"The question is –"
But she cuts me off. "Do I really really like him?"
I nod to her as he pulls on her hair with a look of desperation. "That's the problem. I don't know, I have no idea. I so don't want to lead him on."
"Where does he go to college?"
She gives me a look as if asking me why such an odd question. "Well, Atlanta."
"Ouch," I murmur more to myself than to her. I know for sure I wouldn't engage in a long distance relationship with someone.
"What?" She asks.
I give her a piece of my mind. "Well, I don't know. He's in Georgia and you're in Massachusetts..." I let my words hang in the air. I expect her to look devastated by what I'm saying but she's only looking at me curiously. "Unless you want this to be a summer fling."
She blinks, probably processing my words. Then, "But I don't want to hurt his feelings." When I only shrug at her, at loss for words, she adds, "James is a nice guy, and I'd feel awful if I hurt his feelings."
"What do you want me to say?" I've never been the right person to ask for advice and I don't think I'll ever be.
My best friend seems to read my mind because her next words reflect what's going through my head. "You were never one to give good advice. Even when we were kids." She shakes her head. "Remember that day when you told me to tell the truth to my mom about kissing George?"
I clamp my hand to my mouth in surprise. "I had forgotten about that. Well, I'm sorry. My parents always tell me to tell the truth. I thought the same applied for you."
"The same applied for you." She mocks in an annoying voice with a roll of her eyes. "No, it didn't. I got grounded for two weeks. My father was there repeating my little girl as if I had done something sacrilegious, it was just a kiss."
I laugh at that. "Your father was always a little overprotective. When you get pregnant one day, he's gonna be like how? with his eyes bulging out and a horrified expression," I say in an overdramatic voice and with weird facial expressions.
"Ha," she deadpans. "I don't think he'll ever let me get married," she says with a sigh.
I double over at that, laughing hard and tears almost fall. "Gosh, you bet he won't," I say and go back to laughing hysterically.
Ellie rolls her eyes in annoyance but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. She turns serious again and I try to calm down a little. "So," she starts again, "do I give him a chance?"
I had almost forgotten we were talking about James. "If you really don't want to hurt his feelings, try it out." I suggest. Gosh, I really do have no idea how to do these things or what to say.
"You know?" She starts and I arch an eyebrow, urging her to continue, "I should change best friends. You suck."
And she leans forward, grabbing my hair and tugging on it the way she'd do sometimes when we were kids. I slap her hand away and say, "You couldn't find another one like me."
She throws her arm around my neck and pulls me to her so my face is crashing against her chest and I am trying to breathe. "Jeez, you're boob-suffocating me, let go." I mumble and she lets go.
She only smiles my way and acknowledges my words as she says, "No, I couldn't."
•••
New chapter :) though a day late...
My heart melted a little while proofreading this one. Anyone else?
Much love <3