Six Years Read online

  I looked down at my pajamas with pink and red hearts all over them and fought back my tears. Nobody at home cared to know if I had a great last day of school, nobody at home cared to know why I had bloodshot eyes because Anthony Craig had called me ugly in front of everyone. Even my parents didn't love me.

  I knew it was dangerous at night around here, but I wasn't really afraid. I was way too upset to care about anything else. I shook my head and turned around to my window, ready to go and watch Cinderella, my favorite Disney, when a voice startled me.

  "You shouldn't be out alone, kid."

  I turned around, my little heart beating fast in my chest. I had never been so afraid. There, leaning against the window of the house next door was a tall boy I had never seen before. He was older than me, taller than me and very...cute. Not cute like Anthony Craig or any other kid from school, but cute like...well, I didn't really know like what, but I was feeling all funny in my belly. With his hair cut so short on his skull and his hazel eyes taking in my very childish pajamas, he made me feel shy for the very first time in my short life. I wanted to be taller, prettier, older, but I was just a nine year old girl with my hair in a scruffy ponytail and ridiculous pajamas.

  "I'm not a kid," I replied and I could feel my cheeks getting hot. I sounded like a baby and I hated it.

  A small smile tugged his thin lips upward and suddenly I knew what I felt. I was on my way to have a crush. Just like that.

  "What's your name, then?" he asked me, his voice growling the words out and I'd do anything to hear his voice a little longer.

  I swallowed and cleared my throat nervously. "Brooklyn?" I took a step towards my window. Suddenly, I just wanted to run away and hide.

  "Cool name," he said and ran a hand in his very short hair. "I'm Nolan, but everybody calls me Big No. I guess we're neighbors."

  Nolan. It's such a better name than Anthony. And he had a nickname! A real one. I couldn't look away from his face but soon a car honked in front of his house. He glanced at the car and started walking away before he turned around one last time. "Don't stay out here. You don't know who could be here." He waved at me and started walking again. "Goodnight, Little B."

  Awestruck and distracted, I went back to my bedroom. I had a nickname. He gave me a nickname. "I hope to see him tomorrow," I whispered in my quiet room before I closed my eyes ready and wanting to dream about the tall boy next door.

  BROOKLYN

  "What are you doing here?" I straightened my wrinkled clothes. I felt self-conscious as his eyes scanned my body with a disapproving glare. "And stop looking at me like that. You're not my big brother!"

  "At one point you considered me just that," he replied. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the script on his tee-shirt.

  I snorted and put my guitar against my black desk. If only he knew how I had really seen him back then. After all, everybody seemed to know how I used to feel for him, but him. Of course. "I don't need your approval on who I am or I am not having sex with, Nolan."

  With his front teeth, he tugged on the loop in his lower lip. The metal against his teeth made a little and discreet clink noise. "You're really...I mean you’re really seeing Mike?"

  I shrugged like it was nothing, but I couldn't hold his hazel eyes. I didn't want to see the disappointment there and be hit by the same pain resurfacing every time I looked at him. Couldn't he...leave? "Why are you asking?"

  He stepped towards me, closing the space between us. And all I could think was that I was at the perfect height to snuggle my face into the crook of his neck. I cleared my throat, embarrassed at my own thoughts. I couldn't believe my old little crush on him was making a come back.

  "Because I care about you."

  I tensed and laughed in his face, but it was without humor. His words ignited my anger and I poked my index finger in his chest, ignoring the spark igniting my skin. "You care so much that you’ve never contacted me in six fucking years." I turned my back to him. I didn't want him to see all the emotions tumbling inside me and I had never been great at hiding them. "I understood your need to leave. I understand the fact that you never came back because in your shoes I would have done the exact same thing, but me!" I took a deep breath to calm my erratic breathing. He sidestepped me and faced me once again. He's frowning. "You could have sent me letters. You knew where I was, Nolan."

  He looked down and nodded. "It was too hard knowing that I left you here alone with your parents. I didn't know what to do and I thought it'd be best to let you live your life. Easier.’’ He straightened his back and locked his eyes with mine.

  "I'm living my life. It's probably not what you expected and you can be disappointed all you want. I don't care."

  "Come on, Little..." he began and stopped before he finished his sentence. "Fucking shit," he mumbled. "Do you really not care about me anymore?"

  "It's been too long now to pretend that we're still friends. We're strangers."

  Slowly, he brought a hand to my face and tucked my hair behind my ear, bringing my skin out in goosebumps. It's exactly like when I was a little girl and he’d touch me or hug me. He gave a whole new definition to wobbly legs and butterflies in my belly. I willed myself to stay composed.

  "We're strangers, but that doesn't mean we can't talk a little. You have no idea how often I wondered what you were doing or how you were." He ran his fingertips along my cheekbone. "Please, Brooklyn."

  My eyes traveled down to his thin lips and his loop that was driving me crazy, but I forced myself to look away. I couldn't let him know how his closeness affected my hormones, not when he wanted to use the same nickname he’d used when I was a little girl.

  "There's not much to tell, you know," I replied weakly, my voice softer now. He pulled away and smiled at me, the same smile he gave me the first time we met almost ten years ago. The same smile that turned my little world upside down and made me fall in love. And tonight, his smile made me remember that these feelings never really left. No, they had been asleep and buried, but not buried deeply enough to never resurface. I was screwed and destined to suffer again because of him.

  "When did you learn to play the guitar? You were amazing at Lenny's."

  I smiled and waved him off. It was funny because I always loved it when someone complimented me about something, but with Nolan I had always thought it was because he was being sweet, not necessarily genuine. "It was nothing."

  He grabbed my elbow and led me to my bed. We sat and turned to face each other. "Please! You know you're good," he said and rolled his eyes at me with a smirk.

  I chuckled. "Yeah, well, to answer your question I started the guitar three years ago. Before that, I took some piano lessons at thirteen and singing came naturally. It's a good outlet and guys dig it."

  He scrapped his chin. "Guys, uh?"

  "I'm sure Mike was happy to tell you about this."

  "He told me that you dated several guys. Many of my friends."

  "Dated is too strong of a word." I played with the remote of the TV. "I dated some and with the others it was more...casual."

  "I'm not judging."

  "I don't feel like you approve either."

  "In my head I pictured you with a long time boyfriend or something like that."

  I chuckled at the thought. “I’ve never met someone able to keep my attention long enough. And believe me, you don't want to know all the stories of my sex life."

  He growled deep in his throat. “Damn it! Don't say the word sex, Brooklyn." He shuddered. "I really don’t want to picture it. I still have a hard time reconciling the memory I have of you at twelve and how you look and how you are at eighteen. It's...confusing."

  "Imagine all the stories I’ve heard from the women of this town. All claiming to have had the privilege of being fucked by you."

  "Don't say fuck either!" He stood up and paced in front of me. "And I was a teenager. A boy."

  I rolled my eyes and fought off the scowl threatening to take over. I hated double
standards. “Get over it, Nolan. You want to know me better, then deal with it. I've never been shy, you know."

  "Yeah, but back then you were too young to talk about sex."

  "I had my first wet dream the night of my twelfth birthday."

  "What?!"

  I didn't blush often, but I felt my cheeks burning up. Whenever it's about Nolan I felt too exposed for my liking. Or maybe it's because I didn't know how to behave with him since he's not like other guys. He's always been different for me.

  He sat back next to me and laughed nervously once he saw my blushing face. "Was I in this dream?"

  "Oh shut up!" I pushed him on his chest, but it did nothing to calm me down. "You were the only guy who ever came in my room. For a young girl it's enough ammunition to have a tame wet dream, but wet dream nonetheless.’’

  His smile disappeared. He tilted his head on one side. "How many guys have come in your room since then?"

  "No one else." I looked away. I never let another guy in my bedroom or in my house. Never. I couldn't imagine anyone else here or sprawled on my bed like he used to for our Friday movie nights. He’d never missed them once we started them. This memory made me smile sadly. I missed that time.

  "I'm glad."

  "Why?"

  He locked eyes with me, intense and unwavering. “Because I was starting to believe that what we had meant more to me than to you. I selfishly want to know that it...thatI was important to you."

  As a kid I sometimes used to hug him, but now I didn't dare to even if I was craving his arms around me, the peace I felt when his arms engulfed me completely and my head rested against his chest. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how much he had meant and how he still meant to me even if I was fighting it. He’d been my hero once upon a time, and he marked me deeply, no matter who I claimed to be today. We always heard people saying that bad things shaped them, but it's the same with the good things. Good things were as powerful as bad things, maybe more so because they brought hope too.

  "You know that, Nolan." I blinked several times, afraid that the moisture I felt in my eyes would become tears. The last time I cried was when I read his letter saying goodbye. I wasn't one to cry easily. "You have no idea how much it broke my heart when you left.’’

  Silence fell between us, only broken by our slow paced breathing. I kept my eyes on my hands resting on my thighs.

  "Would you push me away if I hugged you?" he asked in a whisper, his breath fanning my bare shoulder.

  My heart beat wildly in my chest. My blood boiled in my veins and I didn't know how to form words. Or thoughts. I was being ridiculous, but hugging him when I was ten, eleven or twelve was very different even if I pined after him. I knew it was innocent, then. Today, it could be something else, but I was delusional to think it could. He'd never see me that way. A pang of disappointment hit me. Damn it, I was really pathetic where Nolan was concerned.

  "I won’t push you away."

  His Adam’s apple jumped once and a smile brightened his face. My eyes landed on his pierced lower lip and a wave of lust punched me low in my belly. I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable with the pictures my brain conjured.

  He came closer, erasing the little space separating us. I could feel the washed away denim of his blue jeans and his firm thigh underneath against my bare leg. I wanted to close my eyes and revel in his presence, in the feel of his body against me, but I didn't. I kept my eyes open as he leaned into me and wrapped his arms around me. The lean muscles in his arms flexed, his bare and hot skin brushing mine. I felt naked in my tank top as his bare arms were doing things to me I never thought possible.

  "Relax, Brooklyn. It's just me," he said in my ear, his thin lips and loop tracing the words against the sensitive skin of my ear. I never realized before how an ear could be so erogenous. I couldn't believe it. I was in Nolan's arms six years after he left. He was here, in my bedroom.

  I took a deep breath and the smell of his clean clothes and the scent that was only him, assaulted me. I was taken back to six years ago, before I had to face the loneliness that was my life. Before I lost my best friend. But right now, I wanted to stay in his arms without thinking about his departure or the future. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and balled his t-shirt in my fists.

  He relaxed against me and ran a hand up and down my back, avoiding the small of my back that was bared by my tank top which had ridden up. "It feels different," he said, pulling away. He nibbled on the loop in his lower lip.

  I nodded and smiled weakly. Losing the heat and weight of his arms around me made me feel depressed. I missed that kind of attention, of touch. Mike and all the guys before him never hugged me just because they cared about me. If they hugged me it was with the purpose to have me naked minutes later and while I was all for it, it was also difficult when you had nobody to give you a real, warm hug. I’d forgotten what comfort felt like.

  "It's different. We're both adults now."

  He brushed his thumb over my right cheek and I shivered. "I never saw you growing up, nervous before your first date or kiss, before your senior prom." The regret in his eyes softened my anger a little. I couldn't stay angry at him for long, not when I could see the regret swimming in his gaze.

  "I didn't freak out for my first date or first kiss and I didn't go to prom. It's too lame."

  He chuckled and broke the last contact of our skin. My face was tingling. "I didn't go either, but I regret it a little now."

  “Seriously? I honestly don’t. From what I heard, the golden couple of my prom broke up dramatically and a guy puked on one of the chaperones. Apparently the punch was spiked.’’ I pursed my lips at the thought of the silly high school drama while Nolan’s smirk came back to twist his mouth upward. “Let’s talk about something more interesting. Tell me what it is like to be a bestselling author. You're living your dream."

  He shrugged and put some more distance between us, somehow breaking the moment. "I write, meet my agent and publisher frequently, I write some more, I do some interviews and I write again."

  "You don't sound that thrilled. What happened?"

  He looked through my window at his old house, suddenly far off. "Living a dream is wonderful, but when you have nobody from my past to share it with, it fast loses its appeal. I love to write more than ever, but my life is…empty. Something is missing.’’

  I frowned a little at his words, taken aback by the picture he’s painting. He didn’t used to be lonely or one who didn’t fully live his life. Now that everything went according to his big life plans, I really didn’t get it. “I can't believe it. I'm sure you have many friends in New York."

  He glanced back at me all serious. "I have friends, had many girlfriends, but nobody who knows where I'm coming from. I think that’s my issue.’’

  I grabbed his hands in mine and squeezed. "You don't have to cut all contact with your past anymore. I hope...I hope that you won't cut me out of your life once you're back in New York.’’ My heart gained up speed again, slamming against my ribcage. I couldn’t believe I’d say something like that to him.

  He intertwined our fingers, something he’d never done before. My heart did a cartwheel in my chest. "I won't make the same mistake. I need my little Brooklyn in my life. You've always grounded me."

  I tugged softly on his hands. "I'm not so little anymore."

  He shrugged. "You'll always be to me."

  I forced a smile on my face and waved at the TV. It wasn't a Friday night, but I really needed some movie to brush away the pain and disappointment his words created in me. He would never see me as a young woman. That was the big problem when your best friend was six years older than you. And he was the only one able to make my heart flutter like this. I knew he'd be the only one able to keep me interested in the long run, but it wouldn’t happen. At least, he was back. For now.

  * * *

  NOLAN

  I watched as her big eyes fluttered to finally close. A long sigh escaped her lips when she
let sleep overtake her. Her hair with brown and red strands encased her soft face, rendered womanly over the years. Her youth was obvious, but there’s something in her that made her more mature than she should be. And it made it impossible for me to look away from her form deep in slumber.

  I should feel guilty to be on her bed, to be with her like this, having these thoughts in my head, but the guilt was held up in the back. Only confusion and sadness were there, tearing me apart.

  I scoffed at my own thoughts and rubbed at my tired eyes. I knew being in Riverdale would fuck me up good, but I would have never thought it’d be more than just the pain from not seeing Little B grow up, from not being a part of her life. It’s so much more than that.

  I glanced back at her and let my eyes wander along her body, her very adult and womanly body. I swallowed and clenched my jaw until my teeth ached. I still had a hard time thinking of her and Mike. Of her and any guys to be honest. Just imagining them touching her made me want to puke my guts up. She should have been with a good guy, someone who would be worshipping the ground she’s walking on, not fucking around with guys only after her because she’s willing to open her legs.

  It looked like nothing was as we thought it’d be. I didn’t lie when I said that it’s hard for me now that I had everything I ever wanted and more. Somehow, leaving everything behind ultimately caught up to me and it hit me far harder now that I was back in Little B’s life. She’s my past, she’d been my motivation for a long time and her belief, her faith in me and my talent pushed me that much harder to go after my dreams. But now, I only had new people to share my success and nobody who knew where I came from, who knew and witnessed the mess I had to go through to actually be where I stood.

  And now, I was on Brooklyn’s bed, watching her like a creep and that missing piece was finally almost ready to fit back where it belonged. Almost.