Page 91 of Nothing To Lose
“Hey,” he says, voice low and scratchy.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
Neither of us moves. We don’t want to. Not yet.
Eventually, we drift into the shower together. There’s no urgency. We touch slowly, washing the remnants of fear and distance from each other’s skin. He kisses across my body like I might vanish if he doesn't memorize every inch. I trail my fingers down his spine reverently.
We don’t want to leave our bubble, but we should probably check in with our friends.
Isaac calls his mom on our way out. She sobs when he tells her the news, sucking in wet, ragged breaths between wails. I start crying all over again, because it still doesn't feel real. It wasn't so long ago that I was confined to my bed, consumed by despair and hopelessness. I have no doubt that I’d be there again if he’d been taken away from me.
Her outburst is loud enough that she wakes Chelsey, who runs to her side to check on her. Chelsey screams when Isaac repeats the news, because Genie is too overcome for words.
We make plans to celebrate together. Genie won't be able to truly believe it until she sees for herself.
We're still standing outsideThe Nook, just holding each other, when the door bursts open. Brenna stares at us for several moments, saying nothing, then goes back inside. I hear her high-pitched call for her dads to come up front.
"I guess we should go in?" Isaac says with a smirk.
The moment we walk through the door, Mac drops the tray in his hands, and Anders holds his hands in front of his mouth. They look back and forth to each other, and Brenna. Finally, Brenna speaks for all three of them.
"Isaac Josephine Casey," she starts, expression fully serious. "Did you break out of your monitor? Are you skipping town?" She looks back at her dads. "Do you need money? An escape vehicle?"
A laugh bubbles out of Isaac, but none of them are laughing with him.
"The charges were dropped. I'm free." He pulls up his pant leg just enough to show bare skin. Monitor free.
Brenna looks at me, like she's asking for confirmation before reacting. I nod, my smile watery. Isaac squeezes my hand.
Then chaos erupts. They yell and cheer and engulf us in a group hug, all talking over one another to ask questions, thanking deities, and asking if this is real life. If this is a dream, whoever wakes me will die a slow, painful death.
Isaac looks down at Brenna. "Josephine?"
"I didn't know your middle name and it felt like the moment required one."
We laugh. "My middle name is Waylon," he tells her.
She scrunches her nose. "I'm gonna need to talk to your mama about that one." She looks at me, whispering loudly as she does. "Josephine's better."
There’s more hugging. A few tears. A lot of laughing. Relief.
For a moment, it feels like everything might just be okay.
Brenna makes us all drinks and Mac goes back to bake something special. It’s his way of processing any kind of emotion. Anders walks around with an intermittently teary or excited expression.
I'm sipping my favorite extra spicy iced chai latte with oat milk, swooning as I eavesdrop on Mac and Isaac's conversation. They've been discussing how much the arrest and time off are going to affect his timeline. And then the hard questions about how Isaac is going to move forward.
“I’ve got what’s most important,” he says. “The rest we’ll figure out.”
I turn to look at him at the same time he turns toward me.
And we collide.
My drink, only half full, thankfully, and mostly ice, sloshes forward and splashes across his front.
“Oh my god,” I gasp. “I’m so sorry!”
Isaac scowls dramatically and throws his hands up in mock exasperation. “How dare you! This is a vintage Walmart special!"
