Sydney's POV
I step into the Dawson's house and my senses are on overdrive.
Layla greets me at the door, we head to the game room to put my bags and set up our sleeping arrangements for the night.
Since it's only the two of us we can actually share the huge L-shaped couch they have down there which is way better than the floor. Just as we get each side of the couch situated the way we want Mrs. Dawson calls from the top of the stairs that the pizza has arrived and we make our way up to join her in the kitchen. I'm still unsure if Brooks is here or not but so far he hasn't made an appearance so that's a good sign.
My body is unsteady as I make my way into the kitchen but the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies comforts my nerves. We take our seats at the kitchen table and as I look around a little more relief fills me, no Brooks to be found. Thank God.
Mr. and Mrs. Dawson, Layla and I begin digging into the pizza as her parents ask us about how school is going when all of a sudden the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and tingles cover my skin.
"There you are!" Mrs. Dawson says happily as Brooks grabs his plate and joins us at the table.
This. Cannot. Be. Happening.
There's an open chair directly across the table from where I'm seated and of course, that's the spot he chooses.
I slowly look up from my plate into his hazel eyes and take a hard swallow of the bite in my mouth. No one else at the table seems to notice but the tension I feel is overwhelming.
He stares back at me as the tug of war we are playing with our eyes is interrupted by Layla asking me to pass her a napkin. I oblige and rejoin the small talk with the Dawson family fighting every urge and instinct I have telling me to excuse myself from the table and run.
I survive dinner and Layla and I begin washing up the dishes. We eventually make our way back downstairs with a stack of cookies while Brooks and his father ventured into the living room to turn on a college football game.
"Hey, you okay? You seemed pretty quiet at dinner?" Layla asks me as we place ourselves on the L-shape.
"Missing my loud and obnoxious mouth are we?" I smirk.
"That's exactly it!," she laughs, "there wasn't any sarcasm in any of your responses to my parent's one hundred questions about what your future plans are, I was really starting to worry." She shoves a cookie in her mouth, "Your face didn't even turn green when my mom poured you a glass of milk."
"I really must have had you worried then." I too shove a cookie in my mouth and welcome the sugar rush.
Mrs. Dawson always serves milk with dinner, it's the weirdest thing I have ever heard of or witnessed but I choke it down every time. I don't need to give any more reasons for Mr. and Mrs. Dawson to tell Layla how "wild" her friends are or how she should spend more time with so and so on the volleyball team.
"I promise to never be quiet and polite at your dinner table again," I roll my eyes. "Maybe I just want your parents to like me." and I stick my tongue out at her.
She looks at me knowingly, " Good luck with that, I'm their own daughter and they barely like me, because well, I'm not Brooks." she puffs her chest and makes a pouty face in an attempt to mimic her brother. I can't help but blow cookie crumbs out of my mouth with laughter. She does have a point, they do worship the ground that boy walks on. My thoughts betray me by bringing up memories of the days that I also used to worship him and all the sugar turns sour in my stomach.
***
Our night continues as all of our slumber parties have in the past. We lock ourselves in the basement only coming out for drinks and cookie refills.
We talk, laugh, listen to music and settle on the latest rom-com.
Layla of course is notorious for falling asleep super early while I'm quite the opposite. Despite the fact that she has done a pretty good job at distracting me from the looming feeling I have from Brooks' presence being above me it's still there, lingering just waiting to swallow me whole.
***
Brooks POV
I'm laying across the living room couch watching sport center recaps of all the games that were played today but the only recap I can focus on is from dinner.
I know Sydney well enough to know that my presence at the table immediately made her tense. She wasn't cracking jokes or smiling that big smile she gets when her smart mouth makes my mom giggle. She always thought my parents hated her, they don't, they just don't understand anyone who doesn't fit exactly into their cookie-cutter existence.
I was shocked and nervous when she actually looked at me with those massive blue eyes and it was like she could see every part of who I am, she was the only one who ever really could.
Then she didn't look at me again for the rest of the night once my stupid sister asked her for a napkin and pulled Sydney's gaze from mine.
Once she and Layla rushed themselves through clean up and back downstairs I was stuck here trying to distract myself by talking to my dad. It wasn't working.
A couple of hours have passed and I'm nowhere close to being tired. How can I be when she's in this house? The clock reads 12:30 am, Layla has to be asleep she can hardly stay up past 10.
Maybe I could sneak down the stairs and since Sydney wouldn't want to risk waking her up she wouldn't yell and actually listen for once. Or maybe I could call her and she would actually answer not wanting to risk me coming down there? My mind scrambles with ideas but I don't move from my spot, I just sink further into the cushions.
I finally lift myself from the couch when I hear the door open from downstairs.
Maybe she is coming to find me? My heart races. This is my moment.
I can barely hear her tiny footsteps they're so quiet. She makes her way through the kitchen, and as soon as she sees me she stops. Her dark brown hair is in loose waves hanging down on her shoulders, she doesn't have any makeup on but she doesn't need it. The blue in her eyes is bright, her full lips so pink and soft. She's wearing a thin tank top that clings to her curves and those short-ass cheerleading shorts that make me crazy. All the words I had rehearsed earlier have disappeared and I stand there staring back at her like an idiot.
I let out the breath that I was holding and just as I open my mouth to speak she throws up her hand. "I came up to use the bathroom, I'm tired and I don't have the energy to fight with you again." Her voice cracks and she drops her head disappearing into the bathroom.
I battle with myself, trying to decide what to do.
Maybe I should just give it up and let her be. I don't deserve her forgiveness anyways but what if it's more than forgiveness that I need, maybe it's her?
Ever since that day that I left her, I've felt a void I can't seem to fill. I hate coming home, back to this town, and every day when I wake up I see her face, and every night when I close my eyes I hear her laugh. I thought it was because I needed her to forgive me for everything, that I needed closure so I could move on but being around her that emptiness is less and less noticeable, even if she won't even look at me.
The thoughts buzz through my mind and my heart pounds in my chest. God, I miss her.
I know what I have to do.
She has to know that this isn't about our past this is about now, and this is about our future.
The one I always promised but was so scared of that I ran.
My feet have a mind of their own and they make their way to the door of the bathroom.
***
Sydney's POV
I shut the bathroom door as quickly as I can, thankful Brooks didn't push the conversation.
I finish washing my hands and take a long look in the mirror remembering what Quinn said to me. "Don't let Brooks Dawson of all people have that kind of hold over you."
He won't, I tell myself. He can't, I remind my heart. It's thumping so hard in my chest that I can hear it in my ears.
Not anymore, I have to let him go. My pulse races and I try to steady my breath.
As I open the door I feel a hand go over my mouth, and an arm wrapped tightly around my waist pushing me back into the bathroom. I try and squirm away but I can't, his hold is too strong. "Syd stop. I need you to listen to me, I will let you go but first, you're going to hear what I have to say." Brooks says to me as he searches my eyes for approval.
Not having much of a choice I let my body relax into his and brace myself for whatever he is about to say. He removes his hand from my mouth slowly, not trusting that I'm going to stay quiet long enough to listen. The hand around my waist stays put and tightens its grip.
The muscle memory of the days when we used to be in positions similar to this comes back, my body remembering the way it felt in reaction to his touch but my heart remembering the burn of the pain it caused when torn away.
"I never meant for any of this to happen." He begins. "I never meant to hurt you, hell I never meant to fall for you to begin with. You became my best friend and made me think that there was a way that I could be the guy I was with you all the time." He stops, looking deeply into my eyes, I stand still as if my body has been frozen by his words.
" I swear those promises I made to you weren't all lies. I swear that I meant them when I said them. I was just scared, and I still am." He takes a breath.
My head is spinning and my heart is racing. He continues once more, "You're the one person I can tell everything to and I know you won't judge me. Do you know how that felt after living my life with all these expectations my parents have? I never wanted to disappoint them and they always told me you were off limits, all of Layla's friends were. No exceptions. Never would I have expected to fall for one of her classmates let alone best friends, but I did. And I miss it. I miss you."
He finally stops, his chest heaving from the confession he made.
I stare back at him, my body and my heart filled with so much emotion it feels like it will explode. Before I can stop it a single tear falls from my eye.
"Don't cry please don't cry." He says as he tenderly wipes the tear from my cheek.
I nearly choke on my breath as he reaches down and kisses me softly unsure if I'm going to give in or slap him. The touch of his lips lights me up from the inside like every part of me had been hiding in the dark since the last time were together.
He kisses me again, longer this time, and my body betrays my mind leaning into him. I surrender myself to his kiss and this boy that I have tried so hard to forget since he broke my heart.
He grabs me under my thighs and places me up on the vanity standing in between my legs. His hands push my hair back as his kiss becomes more intense. The energy around us feels like a release of all the tension and resistance we have held onto. It was in this kiss that we were reminded of the connection that pulled us together in the beginning.
We both stop, coming up for air, our foreheads pressed together, and our heavy breaths in sync. It felt like coming home, like finally taking a deep breath, it felt like everything that had been missing from my life and the fear of drowning in it all again washed over me putting out every ounce of fire. I tense and lean away from him slightly, how did I get sucked back under so quickly? My mind was suddenly rushed with panic, doubt, and insecurity. My hands trembled as they rested on his chest, pulling my face away and my eyes dancing between his.
As if he could read my mind, Brooks says, " Don't second guess this. I won't hurt you again. I'll do anything to make you believe me." As he lifts his hand to my cheek and kisses me again he wraps my legs around him tighter, pulling me into his desperation "Syd...please."
Everything melts, every fear, worry, or doubt has dissolved into the air around us.
I wrap my arms around his neck, then run them down his arms, onto his back, trying to hang onto him like he's going to evaporate in front of my eyes. I kiss him back as if I may never get the chance again and maybe I won't, maybe once my rational mind gets some distance I will have more strength to resist because I know how stupid this is.
I know I told myself I was going to let go, but I can't and maybe, I don't want to.
Maybe this time will be different, maybe this time...he'll choose me.
I pull away slightly enough to whisper, "Ok."
And then I feel myself falling back under the current that is Brooks Dawson, consuming me entirely.