Under a Silent Moon

11

Chapter Eleven: Everything is Okay Now

LANA

I sling a plush purple towel over my shoulder as I usher Zack into the bathroom. It came to our attention simultaneously that I would have to accompany him in the room while he showered to ward off any suspicion from my mom and sister.

Right before I pull the door closed, Amanda greets me with a scowl outside of her bedroom, like she manifested there just to reprimand me.

"Was that you making all the guitar noises?" she asks, arms crossed over her chest.

"No, it was the ghost," I say as a matter-of-fact.

She blinks at me, unfazed by my sarcasm. "I didn't know you played guitar."

Of course you don't, I think. You don't pay attention to anyone but yourself. I almost say this aloud, but decide to choose my battles wisely.

"Yeah, well I do," is all I manage to say. I pull the door shut completely, relieved as the weight of her stare is broken. She stands out there for a second more, as if contemplating a response, but then I hear the faint creaking of the floorboards as she pads back into her room.

I turn to Zack but before I say anything he turns the knob in the tub, releasing hot water into the bath.

"So let's break the tension," he says in a whisper. "This is awkward."

I laugh, hoping the steam hides my reddening cheeks. I've never been this close to a naked boy before. Zack rests on the side of the tub and pulls the lever to transition the water from the faucet to the showerhead. "But," he continues, "I really do appreciate you letting me do this. It's been so long since I've been in a home and met my basic human necessities."

He stammers at the word human, reminding me that this situation is weird in more ways than one. I rest his towel on the counter next to the sink and take a seat atop the closed toilet, averting my eyes as he undresses.

I hear him push the curtain aside and step in. He makes an involuntary noise at the temperature of the water, but then sighs with relief. I chuckle despite myself. "Sorry," he whispers. "I guess I forgot what being warm actually felt like."

A barrage of questions flood my mind, but I decide to wait until after he's finished his shower to proceed with any. Having a conversation over the water pressure would result in us shouting, and in turn would probably lead my family to believe that I've gone mad. Zack turns the squeaky knob to shut off the water, and I hear him inhale deeply.

"This is the most refreshed I've felt in a long time," he says, jutting his hand out in search of a towel. I drape it over his arm and he dries off behind the curtain. When he pulls it back, the towel is wrapped securely around his torso. I feel invasive eyeing him up as he steps onto the soft white rug next to the tub, but it's hard not to stare. He's certainly in good shape, and his dark, damp hair is plastered to his forehead. He runs a hand through it to push it out of his face, and then glances forlorn at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. "Not looking forward to putting that garbage back on."

An idea strikes me. "Wait a second," I say, sneaking out of the bathroom and down the hall. When I open Blake's bedroom, a pang of sadness hits me. It hasn't been too long since I last saw my brother, but the scent of his favorite cologne overwhelms me as I step inside his room. I miss him. Everything about this sanctuary screams Blake, from the records piled haphazardly next to his bed to the sketches that engulf his desk.

Distracted, I wander over to his desk and press the button on the lamp, shedding light over his art. Right at the top of the pile is a black-and-white image of me, Blake, and Amanda with our arms around each other. It looks to have been sketched in graphite, as his fingerprints can be seen near the edges where he held the paper still while he worked. The figures are smiling back at me, and I trace my thumb over Amanda's face, smearing the detail ever so slightly.