[WATTYS 2018 WINNER - THE HEARTBREAKERS]
They say "the cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea..."
Natalie doesn't believe it. In fact, Natalie doesn't believe in much. Not until Brooklyn gives her something to believe in.
[extend...
"Oh you're bold," Nikki said coyly as I finished up recounting the saga on the Ferris wheel. A snide smirk danced across her face as she picked at her chipped pink nail polish. "So when's the wedding?"
I wasn't sure what unspoken thing had transpired between Brooklyn and I since our kiss at the carnival, but even thinking back to it gave me goosebumps.
"Don't be ridiculous," I groaned and rubbed my temples. I flopped back on Nikki's bed and clutched one of her fuzzy purple pillows. "It's really nothing. People kiss all the time and nothing comes of it so...stop getting your hopes up."
I wasn't sure who needed to hear that more - me, or Nikki.
"Ugh you're so boring." Nikki whined. "I'm trying to live vicariously through you. Which I can't even believe I'm saying. But you've gotten more action than me recently."
"Oh please, I hardly call one kiss action." I hit her with the pillow. My phone pinged in the pocket of my sweatshirt, and my heart sped up when I opened the text message.
BROOKLYN: Chinese food and a movie tonight?
BROOKLYN: I rented Evil Dead on DVD. Can't watch it by myself though...might need someone to hold my hand.
Then again, Brooklyn continued to surprise me. I jumped out of Nikki's bed and made my way to my room in an attempt to not look like a garbage rat.
"Wait, where are you going?" she called after me.
"To Brooklyn's house." I replied quickly after throwing a semi-clean sweater on over my leggings. I dashed past her room and down the stairs before she could throw a snide comment my way.
"Of course you are. Use protection!" Her voice followed me out the door.
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What's the right move when you greet someone whose tongue has been down your throat, but you aren't dating or in any way, shape, or form romantically involved with. Do you hug them? Do you kiss them on the cheek? Or do you do nothing, for fear of touching them would cause some type of nuclear meltdown.
"Hey," Brooklyn said in a husky voice when he answered the front door for me. He had on a black collared short sleeve shirt and beige chino pants that were rolled at the ankles. It was a far cry from his usual Nike shorts, t-shirt and baseball cap combo, and I suddenly felt very underdressed in my black leggings and a white oversized sweater.
We attempted the awkward hug, and I caught a whiff of his warm cologne.
"You got pretty dressed up for Chinese food," I jabbed with a grin as Brooklyn led me through the house towards the stairs.
Brooklyn chuckled and gave me a casual shrug. "My mom just threatened to starve me if I still had on the same sweatpants I've been wearing for the past three days, and this was all I had that was clean."
