“I believe his exact words were, ‘you touch her, and I’ll kill you. And if she ever finds out, she’ll probably kill you, too.’”
I drew in my breath. I could hear Matt saying the words perfectly. The perks of having an overprotective twin brother.
“From his glowing recommendation, I gathered the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, so I just kept annoying you for attention. And you kept hating me, so we all won, I guess.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Would it have changed anything if you had?”
The cold and the heat underneath our blankets were beginning to be a doozy. It felt intimate to have a heart to heart conversation, when you are literally heart to heart. I couldn’t look at him any longer. I laid my head on his chest while he cleared his throat and rubbed his hand briskly over my arm to warm it.
It was already warm.
“I’m not sure,” I said into his chest. And I wasn’t sure. If I had known he liked me in high school, would that have changed me? Softened me toward him?
My feet and legs were still freezing, so I wheedled my way in between his legs, smiling slightly as he hissed when my cold feet touched his. Things were getting confusing. I needed to move, to break our contact and get up from his cozy body of warmth. I just couldn’t bring myself to care. I would care tomorrow when my brain wasn’t so foggy, and my eyes weren’t so heavy. When Chase’s arms weren’t locked around me so tight.
“Chase?” I asked, drowsy again and perhaps a bit lightheaded. Somehow, in my half-unconscious state, I had finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing me since the day before.
“Yeah?” He mumbled, as if he were almost asleep.
“You lost with the Jack of Hearts yesterday.”
“Huh?”
“The Jack of Hearts was my throwaway card. You switched it out of the discard pile with one of your cards and let me win, didn’t you?”
There was a long pause, but then, in a faraway voice, he said, “sure doesn’t sound like something I’d do, Blister.”
I said no more, but my heart leapt into my throat as he pulled me closer, tucking me in with his arms and warming my body. Even the term Blister had somehow lost it’s sting. Tonight, falling from his lips, it almost sounded… endearing, sweet. To any onlooker from the window, this would have seemed like a scene for lovers. As I felt myself drift off to sleep, feeling the way his fingers rhythmically rubbed my arm, it was beginning to seem that way to me too.
* * *
It was still dark outside. I figured it was probably five or six in the morning, but there was no way to know because there was no way I was moving a muscle to do anything dumb, like check my phone, or the clock, or to pee. If I moved, then this would all go away, and I quite enjoyed the sound of Chase’s deep and steady breathing in my ear. He even mumbled in his sleep once, and it was the most adorable thing.
Oh geez, the next few days needed to go fast. I had to get out of there. The cabin was feeling much too cozy. Even my thoughts toward Chase had been much more generous and forgiving than they had ever been before.
Look, here’s the thing—there’s nothing to forgive between Chase and I. It was all a long time ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve dated plenty. I’ve gained confidence in my talents and abilities, and even (for the most part) my looks. At least before I found myself stuck in a cabin with Chase Riley.
Even though I know we were both in junior high, and the comment was probably meaningless, I’d be lying to myself if I said I hadn’t thought about it since.
She looks like my dog, but not as hot.
So childish. So middle school. So dumb.
So not something you ever forget.
That’s the thing about middle school. It stays with you. Sometimes, it’s stuck in that unconscious part of your brain. Sometimes, you don’t hear from it for a while. Sometimes, you thought you’d forgotten, but during a moment of doubt, it was the first comment in my head.
That moment changed me.
Instead of striving for beauty like the rest of my friends, that was the day I decided to become funny. Witty. Snarky. If I couldn’t be beautiful, being funny was the next best thing. I had dedicated my entire life to being self-deprecating and sarcastic. To let others know that I knew I wasn’t pretty, but that it was okay, because I was the one who made them laugh. Soon after, junior high faded into high school. I saw less and less of Chase, as he became immersed into the sports scene.
Then, something unexpected happened. Matt joined the golf team. He and Chase were put together as partners, and hit it off. Middle school had been tough, but through it all, I had Matt. My twin. He was always there, and when he was there, that meant we were together. A team. But then suddenly, he had friends I didn’t have, joined a sport I wasn’t involved in, and went to parties I was never invited to. At first, he would ask if I wanted to go, but I knewwhoelse would be in the car and I declined every time. After a while, he stopped asking. I took a quieter, more behind the scenes route at the school newspaper. There, my snark and wittiness paid off, and soon I was writing a weekly column detailing the daily life of a student.
Our junior year, Matt joined the football team as well, thanks to Chase’s influence. Then, I couldn’t avoid Chase because he was always in my home. If sports jokes and niceness was Matt’s thing, snark and wit became mine. Chase gave as much as he took, which led to some interesting movie nights in our living room. At that point, I had discovered that if I wanted to keep my brother and I close, I would have to endure a few football parties at my house every week. And to be honest, I found myself having a nice time, more often than not. Not that I would have admitted that to anyone.
The newspaper column got me a full ride scholarship to college and became a great platform for my life as a writer. So, there was a lot of good in my life that stemmed from that one little comment.