Page 84 of First Impressions of You

Winter starts moving around his room too. At first, I think he’s helping me find my clothes, but he’s actually looking for his.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m coming with you,” he answer. The way he says it, like it’s so obvious, like he can’t imagine doing anything other than being there for me, loosens a band that’s been tightly wrapped around my heart. I feel it expand in my chest, filling spaces I never thought would be filled.

“Thank you,” I whisper, not trusting myself not to start crying again if I try to say more.

There’s never a better time to drive around LA than the middle of the night. There are no cars around, no traffic either on 405 or I-5, and we make it to my apartment in record time. My legs are shaking as we climb to the second floor, and I half expect to find Olivia bleeding out on the floor.

What I didn’t expect was to find the apartment in absolute silence and normalcy. I turn the lights on in the living room, searching for evidence of what might have happened. I see nothing. I tiptoe to my sisters’ bedroom and open the door a bit. The light from the living room is enough for me to see that they’re both sound asleep in their respective beds.

I close their door again, and Winter moves quickly to my side. “They’re okay,” he whispers. “They’re safe.”

I know I should believe it. I’ve just seen both of them with my own eyes, but still, I can’t shake the feeling that something really bad has happened. Julia wouldn’t text me that if it weren’t something big.

Still, I nod in response because right now they are. Okay, I mean. And there’s nothing I can do expect wait for them to wake up and tell me what’s going on.

“You should get some sleep,” he says, planting a kiss on my head. “I’m gonna go.”

On instinct, I wrap my arms around his waist, grabbing onto his T-shirt. “Stay,” I mumble into his chest.

“What?”

I look up. “Can you stay with me? Just a little?”

“Of course,” he answers.

We go into my room, and I strip off my clothes. I put on my pajamas and climb under the blankets. When Winter makes to lie on top of them, I shake my head.

“I lied,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to stay a little. I just want you to stay.” Forever, my heart says.

He simply nods and takes off his clothes, climbing into bed after me in nothing but his boxer briefs.

“Thank you,” I whisper into the darkness of the room.

“No need to thank me.” He finds my hand on his chest and intertwines our fingers, bringing them to his mouth so he can kiss my knuckles. “Whatever you need, I’m here. Always.”

Winter sneaks out of my bedroom a few of hours later when the sun’s just beginning to rise.

“Thank you for staying,” I tell him as he leans in to give me a kiss.

We decided it’d be better for him not to be here in the morning to avoid the interrogation from my sisters, but as soon as he leaves, I’m all too aware of his absence next to me. I toss and turn, but I can’t go back to sleep, so I decide to get up and make some coffee.

I feel restless as I wait for Olivia and Julia to wake up. I need to talk to them. I need to know what’s going on. And I need to apologize. I know I was too harsh on Olivia, and all she was doing was trying to make me see the glass half full.

Julia’s up first, unsurprisingly. She closes the door carefully, and she halts when she sees me in the kitchen.

I offer her a mug filled to the brim with black coffee, no sugar. She takes it without saying anything, and this is how I know she’s mad at me.

Julia’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my life. She will go out of her way to make everyone feel good all the time. She ended up in the hospital because she didn’t want to tell Cam and Winter that she wasn’t feeling good, for God’s sake. So, when she doesn’t even say thank you for the coffee, I know I’m in big, big trouble.

I nod to the couch, and she follows me.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Where were you?” she asks at the same time, both our questions come out in whispers, so as not to wake Olivia up.

“Did Olivia tell you about our fight?” She nods and waits for me to say more. “I was unfair to her,” I admit. “But I was so mad about the poster. I think… I know I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

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