Page 43 of Chasing Stars
“A penny for your thoughts?” Miles asks, raising his eyebrows and threading his fingers through mine.
I shake my head and smile, my cheeks flushing. I can’t tell Miles the thoughts and fears that are swarming my mind so instead, I fib. “I’m trying to decide between pancakes or a burger.” I flick my eyes back to my menu to avoid his assessing gaze.
Miles laughs and his carefree smile relaxes me. The server comes over to take our order and I make a last-second decision. Miles doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time the server is with us.
“So, I was thinking,” he says slowly once she disappears, “Sophie and Liam are having a Halloween party in two weeks. I wasn’t going to go. Halloween isn’t really my thing, but then, I thought, maybe you might want to.” He quirks his brow.
I’m surprised by his question. “Oh. Um, well…” I can’t remember the last time I celebrated the holiday.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to.” Miles backpedals. “If you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s just that I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in a really long time.” I laugh. “Like, decades.”
Miles huffs a laugh, his eyes flickering in amusement. “Me neither.” He takes a sip of water. “It could be fun,” he says with an easy shrug.
A slow smile creeps across my face and I find myself nodding. “Okay. Yeah, it could be fun.”
“I’ll brainstorm costume ideas for us,” he says excitedly, gripping my hand again.
“For us? Like a couple’s costume?” I lick my lips, suddenly nervous.
“Why not?” Miles asks, cocking his head at me. “Everyone else will be in them.”
Miles wants to be a couple.“Okay. But only because everyone else is.” A smile pulls at my lips before I can stop it.
“Sure.” He nods, fighting back his own smile. Suddenly, I’m fifteen—on an afterschool date with my crush. The tingles are real.
Our server returns with our food, and we busy ourselves with tasting and sharing bites with each other.
“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” Miles asks.
“Peel some wallpaper border off the spare bedroom wall. Really riveting stuff.” I laugh. “What about you?”
“Well, my meetings are done for the day. I have no showings. I could…peel some wallpaper, too?” His suggestion causes all my loneliness and my desire for him to weld together into a deep, devouring yearning.
I can’t hide my happiness. Joy bubbles up, and I laugh out loud. “Yes. You certainly could.”
22
MILES
Monday after lunch, I peeled wallpaper with her all afternoon. I left at the end of the day to go surfing, and even though I asked her if she wanted to come, she declined. It killed me to say good night. Still does, every time. But I have to keep forcing myself to slow things down. It won’t end well for me if we go full steam ahead only to crash and burn. I want it to work. I don’t want her to leave.
The days begin blur after that. A week passes, and I see Jenna as much as possible, but never as much as I want to. She still maintains that sheisleaving when the house is ready to sell. Sometimes it’s just a passing comment, tossed into conversation like it means nothing. But when she says it, everything in me feels paralyzed. My chest hurts, my throat tightens, my stomach winds itself in knots. And when I ask where she thinks she’ll go next, she doesn’t have an answer for me. I think that’s the only thing that gives me hope—maybe I can convince her she belongs here—with me.For now, I focus on the present. The house repairs are underway and Jenna and I are growing closer. I’m planning to tell her how I feel—to let her know I want her to stay.I just have to be careful. I’m learning that Jenna doesn’t respond well to pressure, so I’m doing my best not to give her any.
It’s the following Tuesday,and we have texted a few times throughout the day, but I forced myself not to ask her what she’s doing tonight. Instead, I decide to forgo my usual evening surf and drive up the parkway to the nearest big-box electronics store. I’m shutting down my computer when I tell Nate this.
“You’re doing what?” Nate asks incredulously as I stand grabbing my keys and my jacket off the coat rack by the door.
“I’m going to Best Buy and getting Jenna a TV and a Roku,” I repeat, ignoring the insinuation in my brother’s voice.
He lets out a low whistle. “First a coffee pot and now a TV. Man, who are you?” He leans back in his desk chair, feigning amusement, but I’d like to think my baby brother is happy for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to do something nice for a girl.
“Why don’t you and Caden come with me? We’ll grab dinner,” I suggest, knowing Nate could probably use a break from his usual routine.
“Yeah, all right,” he agrees.
Two hours later, my four-year-old nephew is running around the electronics store like he took a stimulant while Nate and I mull over our TV options.
