The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)

Chapter Twenty

A/N: Skirt is red, not yellow. Unfortunately I couldn't find a good enough photo. Sorry.

A dream wakes you up, just at the moment at which it might reveal the truth so that you only wake up in order to keep dreaming - To dream in the real, or to be more exact in reality." - Lacan

I woke up to the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock – it was too early for this. But then I heard my mom's voice.

"Harley, get up! You wanna get breakfast before heading to school, don't you? I made breakfast burritos." She exclaimed. "There's enough for both of you."

I couldn't help but smile. My mom always knew how to start the day off right. Beside me, Jon stirred awake, his messy hair sticking up in all directions.

"She must have heard you come in last night," I teased him as we both chuckled.

"Yeah, probably," he replied with a grin before getting up and stretching.

"Do you still have some of my clothes here?" he asked, looking around the room.

"Of course I do. They're in the first two drawers on the left side of my closet," I told him as he rummaged through to find something to wear.

I quickly picked out my outfit for the day – a black turtleneck and a red and black plaid skirt.

But when I turned around to talk to Jon, I froze in place.

He stood shirtless in front of me, his defined muscles glistening under the morning light filtering through the window.

My eyes involuntarily trailed over his sculpted abs and v-line as he casually buttoned up his pants.

"Hey Jon-" I started but froze as he spun around.

He caught me staring at his six-pack and v-line before covering up with his pants and shirt.

The sudden proximity between us made my heart race as our bodies almost touched.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, noticing my discomfort.

My mouth went dry as I stammered out an excuse about being thirsty and hurried downstairs without waiting for his response. My mom greeted me in the kitchen, her smile faltering when she saw me flustered.

"What's wrong? You're flushed," she observed with concern.

I took a deep breath before asking hesitantly, "Mom... how did you know you liked dad more than a friend?"

Her face lit up with understanding as she laughed softly at my question just as Jon appeared in the doorway wearing a shirt this time. As I sat at the kitchen table, nervously stirring my glass of orange juice, my mind was still reeling from the unexpected encounter with Jon upstairs. His shirtless form lingered in my thoughts, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl within me.

My mom turned off the water and dried her hands before sitting down across from me, her expression soft and understanding. "Harley, love is a complex thing. It's not always easy to recognize at first, especially when it involves someone who has been by your side for so long."

I looked up at her, searching for guidance in her wise eyes. "But how do you know if it's more than just friendship? How do you know if what you feel is... love?"

She smiled gently and reached out to cover my hand with hers. "Love isn't something that can be easily defined or understood, Harley. It's a feeling that grows over time, nurtured by shared experiences and deep connections. Sometimes it takes a moment of realization to see what has been right in front of you all along."