Page 92 of The Very First Night

Part of it is Elijah, I’m sure, but that fucked-up habit started long before Elijah Hanas stepped into my life. I’ve spent my entire existence trying to be the right amount of pleasant and understanding to keep the people I love in my life—to get the people who didn’t love me back to see my value.

“Well, I’m sorry I made it your problem,” I say. “Had I known he would do something like that, I would have been more careful.”

“Stop that,” Tanner snaps.

“Stop what?” I ask.

“Apologizing for things you didn’t do, especially apologizing for the actions of men. I came up behind you downstairs—I put my arms around you. That, downstairs? That was nothing but a pissing match between Elijah and I that he felt necessary to drag you into. That was not your fault. Do you hear me?” He slides his finger underneath my chin and presses upward, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Katarina, do you hear me?” His stern voice does things to me that this situation could not possibly call for.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Good.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach as he reaches out to gently stroke my cheek. I lean into his touch, and he pulls me close, holding me tightly against his chest. In the quiet moment that follows, I can hear the steady beat of his heart. And then he speaks, his voice soft and reassuring.

“Do you want to watch something? A distraction might be nice for you right about now.”

While I could most definitely go for a distraction, the last thing I care to do right now is laugh. It might help him after a shit day, but it just feels disingenuous. I’m not happy—I’m not amused. So I shake my head.

“Okay. Is there anything that I can do to salvage your birthday? We have most of the cake left; I can go grab you a piece and?—”

I close my eyes and press my mouth against his, savoring the tingling sensation that spreads through my body. My mind swirls with a hundred different thoughts and distractions, but all I want is to lose myself in this moment. To forget everything else—the pain, the chaos, the uncertainty—and just be present with him. As our kiss deepens, I can feel it all slipping away, if only for a little while.

He slowly pulls away, his eyes heady with lust as he says, “Kat, we don’t have to.”

I reach out and grasp his hand, clinging to it as my heart pounds inside my chest. I whisper, “I want to.”

The warmth of his palm soothes the ache in my chest. I know that giving into these feelings will only bring temporary relief from the pain, but unpacking and dealing with them is a daunting task for another day—a day I’m not quite ready for yet.

As Tanner leans toward me, the faint scent of peppermint lingers on his breath. His soft lips graze against mine, sending shivers down my spine. “Okay,” he whispers before slowly pressing his mouth to mine in a gentle yet firm kiss. The warmth of his touch spreads through my body and I can’t help but melt into the moment.

So I do—I melt. I let every fear about the future and what it means for Tanner and me melt away. I welcome the reprieve from Elijah ripping open my biggest, most withstanding insecurity tonight. For once, I surrender completely to the love that has been simmering beneath the surface for I don’t even know how long.

I know I’ll have to face everything soon, but right now I just want to pretend we aren’t just friends who sometimes fuck.

FORTY-FOUR

KAT

The drive from Kent to Columbus has never felt as long as it does right now. However, I’d much rather drive home and meet the brother I’ve never met than exist in that house.

No one has said anything or gone out of their way to make me feel bad, but it just feels like people are angry with me for Elijah having to move out. Jenna has reassured me on more than one occasion that I’m seeing a response that isn’t actually there—that most of them are relieved to have him gone—but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve managed to fuck everything up.

Including Jenna’s relationship with Marcus.

Paper-thin walls haven’t helped ease my guilty conscience when I can hear my best friend and her boyfriend arguing well into the night. I appreciate Jenna’s steadfast loyalty, but I’m not going to pretend that I don’t understand Marcus’s perspective. Elijah and Marcus have been friends since they were kids, and while they didn’t get close until college, Elijah has been a fixture in Marcus’s life since the third grade. It would be insane to ask him to cut Elijah off, but that’s what Jenna has been doing. I know I need to talk to her about it, tell her that I genuinely don’t care if Marcus is friends with Elijah—just that I can’t be around him right now—but I have so much on my mind that simply leaving for the weekend is the only means of maintaining my sanity.

The tires of my car screech against the curb as I attempt to parallel park in front of the quaint diner in Columbus. My heart thunders in my chest with a mix of nervousness and disbelief at the thought of finally meeting my brother in my early twenties. Taking shaky breaths, I slowly open the car door and step toward the unknown.

A neon glow cascades over the worn brick, the diner’s sign flickering and buzzing, casting an eerie glow over the sidewalk as I make my way toward the entrance. Every step feels like a mile, and I can feel my palms sweating as I reach for the door handle. As it swings open, a rush of warm air hits me, along with the smells of greasy burgers and freshly brewed coffee. I take in the checkered floors, vinyl booths, and an old-fashioned jukebox playing in the corner.

When Patrick selected this diner, I expected it to be a significantly more pretentious place. Though I’ve never met my dad, I’ve pieced together a picture of him through limited information. According to what little Google has revealed, he was once a successful and powerful lawyer. The thought only fuels my anger further—knowing that while my mom worked tirelessly at the restaurant, often doing double shifts just to make ends meet, he had the means to help but deliberately chose not to. It’s like a slap in the face, knowing that he could have made our lives easier but instead turned his back on us without a second thought.

After seeing the “self-seating” sign by the front door, I seek out a booth toward the back of the restaurant. Patrick texted me about ten minutes ago to let me know that he was running a few minutes behind, so I shoot him a message.

Kat

Seated toward the back

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