twenty-seven

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I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I walked into the Keller's house on Sunday, but the "normalcy" of families like theirs felt forced and stale. Despite the warmth and the smell of lasagna that filled the kitchen, there was a tenseness in the air that permeated through it all, lingering throughout dinner. Ella made offhand remarks about the "old man" music that was being played in the background while she nursed a glass of red wine. Brooklyn and his father traded icy glances every so often, a silent conversation I desperately wanted to understand. I felt Brooklyn's knee bobbing up and down restlessly under the table.

"Nat?" Brooklyn nudged me.

"Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out there for a minute," I said and shook my head.

"Do you want wine?" He asked.

I swallowed hard, glancing over at Brooklyn's glass of soda. "No, I'm okay, thanks."

While the wine bottle continued to be passed around the table, Brooklyn leaned over to me and said softly, "You know, you can drink even though I'm not."

There was a strained sense of urging in his voice, and it made my gut twist into a tight knot. While I didn't know the first thing about a "normal" family, all Brooklyn wanted was for everyone to be normal around him.

"It's okay," I gave him a faint smile and squeezed his hand under the table. "Really, it is."

I hoped he knew my words meant more than just declining a glass of wine. I was overwhelmed with a need to protect him. The tenseness began to dissipate, and as he eased up beside me, we actually enjoyed dinner. I fielded all the general questions about myself that Mrs. Keller asked - tiptoeing around being jobless - thankful the heat was taken off of Brooklyn. His father observed in silence, but his gaze still unnerved me.

I helped Ella load the dishwasher after dinner, and even in the comfortable silence I felt Ella's gaze on me.

"What?" I asked with my eyebrow raised.

"You really are good for my brother," Ella said with a casual shrug. "But I think you knew that already."

Ella smirked when I whipped my head around to make sure he hadn't been listening. "Where'd he go?" Natalie asked.

Ella pointed to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the kitchen. "To go smoke, I think." She jerked her head in the direction of the doors. "Don't worry, I'll finish this."

I made my way onto the back deck but slowed to a stop when I saw Brooklyn down by the water. He had his back to me, his silhouette faintly illuminated by the dim glow of the lights coming through the windows of the house. Smoke hovered around him in grey clouds that danced up his shoulders and neck until they dissolved into the night.

It was the smallest of things. The way the wind whipped his hair in every direction. The way he'd crack his neck every so often. Every little move he made captivated me. I was beginning to accept how deep into this I was - so deep the light barely reached me.

"Hey you," I said as I approached him.

Brooklyn turned around, and his eyes lit up.

"Hey yourself," he grinned. He tossed his cigarette into the distance, watching the faint burning light disappear into the blackness of the bay.

A gust of wind whipped through me and sent a nasty shiver through my bones. Without a word, Brooklyn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. My cheek brushed against the soft, threadbare material of the Clemson football sweatshirt he had thrown on and inhaled his usual cigarettes and citrus scent that I had grown so used to. I would have stayed there all night if I could.

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