The next few days passed in a blur. There was nothing for me to do except read Shadow and Bone and bury myself in my thoughts. Brooklyn was still going through a sickening withdrawal and insisted he didn't want me to see him like that, even though I had spent the better half of the other day sitting with him in the bathroom while he threw up nothing but Gatorade and crackers.

After my fury of emotions had returned to normal and reality had set in, I realized dealing with Brooklyn's addiction might have been harder than I realized. I had to ask myself the hard questions, like how much slack do I give him, and how many more times was I willing to be screwed up by this. I wasn't prepared to live in this morally gray space I had created. I had to find a balance between being overbearing and being too trustworthy.

I was shaken from my thoughts as Nikki burst into my room, nearly tripping over a stray shoe in the middle of the floor.

"Get up," she shook me. "You've got a visitor."

"What?" I jumped out of bed and pulled on the first t-shirt and pair of yoga pants I could find off of The Chair. I strode across the hall to Nikki's room, pressing myself against the window that overlooked the front yard.

My eyes widened when I saw Brooklyn leaning on the hood of the car in his usual Yankee hat and Nike shorts. I caught a glimpse of a small bundle of colorful flowers in his hands.

"I told him he had to wait outside." Nikki said tersely.

I scoffed. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he's up to something," Nikki snapped as she pointed her finger at the window. She sighed and put her hand to her forehead. "Whatever this bullshit is with him, you need to sort it out before it gets out of control."

Nikki huffed and sauntered out of the room. I looked back down at Brooklyn, who fidgeted with his hat and paced in front of his car. I took a deep breath and made my way downstairs.

"Good morning," Brooklyn called as I emerged from the house. I squinted in the bright light of the sun as I looked up at him. I felt a weird wave of deja vu wash over me - so much had changed since the day he first showed up at my house, but the familiar sight of him standing in the sun smiling down at me made all of the bad evaporate.

"Morning," I replied. Brooklyn tensed up when I walked closer and took a deep breath. "Everything okay?" I asked.

"I uh...don't think Nikki likes me," Brooklyn said, itching the back of his neck.

"She's just being defensive. It's kind of her job," I responded as I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. I looked down at his hands, calm and steady holding a small bundle of mismatched flowers in an array of pinks and purples and oranges.

"Are those for me?" I asked, pointing at them.

"Oh, yeah." He handed them to me. "I'm sorry, they kind of suck."

I ran my hands across the soft petals of the flowers. There was one rose, an orchid, a few carnations, and an azalea, tied at the stems by a thin string. Like outcasts from a garden that didn't match their own kind, but instead complimented each other's differences. Just like we did.

"No, these are beautiful, thank you," I said with a smile. "But what are they for?"

"Oh well, uh," Brooklyn scratched the back of his head. "Just for taking care of me the other night. I'm still kind of ashamed you had to see me like that. I know I owe you a lot, but flowers could be a start."

I looked back up at him, and he smiled at me the way he always did - calm and bright and so assured of himself. It reminded me why I was doing this - for that Brooklyn. That Brooklyn was worth it.

"We'll work on it," I said with a coy grin and a wave of my hand.

Brooklyn exhaled. "Look, Nat. I think we should talk. About a lot of stuff." He rocked back and forth on his heels. "Can I take you to lunch?"

I bit down on my lip. I was barely ready to approach the truth of the situation on my own terms. Hearing him tell me the truth, as much as I wanted to hear it, was something that made my heart lurch at the very thought.

Brooklyn stepped closer to me and ran his hand up my arm. He gave me a weak smile and kept his hand on my shoulder. "Please, Nat. Something else I owe you is the truth."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Okay, yeah," I nodded. "Let me go inside and change first."

"No don't," he said, keeping his hand on my shoulder. "You look great."

I gave him a wary look, which only prompted him to chuckle. "Don't worry, we're not going anywhere fancy. I was thinking burritos at this dive place down by the beach."

I felt a smile pull at my lips. "Yeah, I'd like that."

When I climbed into the passenger seat of Brooklyn's car, I glanced back to the house and saw a flash of pink hair at the window.

"Any place that gives unlimited chips and salsa is a win in my book."

I watched a chunk of salsa fall from the chip Brooklyn was eating and splat onto the wooden table. We sat outside at the burrito shop overlooking the rickety boardwalk that was at the edge of Devil's Point. The beach was empty, save for a group of runners, and the water was so calm, it looked like glass. There was a cool summer breeze that kept us from sweating in the afternoon sun.

"So..." I took a sip of water to cool my dry throat before continuing. "Let's talk."

Brooklyn folded his hands on the table, and I hated that he kept his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Well, I think you should just know the truth..." he said in a far too casual tone. He fiddled with the brim of his hat. "I'm uh...pretty ashamed of some of the things I've done these past few weeks."

In the back of my head, I already knew the basics, as much as it was hard for me to admit. But the gritty details of Brooklyn's drug use was something that made my heart thump hard in my chest.

"Alright." I rested my hand on my forehead and shook my head. "Go ahead."

"I feel like you see right through me and all my bullshit," he muttered with a faint smile.

I reached over the table and squeezed his hand. "Just get it out. Like ripping off a band-aid," I said softly.

Brooklyn sighed. "It was right before we went for Ella's birthday. I swear I was looking for a shirt in my closet. I found some old pills in a jacket pocket." I heard his voice start to crack. "I couldn't help myself. I thought I could handle it. I took one and then the next thing I knew I was dope sick, high and fiending all weekend. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, and I'm driving the train."

He pulled his hand away from mine. I could see his hands tremble as he rubbed the side of his face. "On 4th of July...I just wanted to fit in so badly. I wanted my parents to have a normal kid. I just lost control, and the next thing I knew I was so loaded I couldn't see straight."

"It's like an avalanche," I said softly.

"It's exactly like an avalanche," Brooklyn replied. "I think at that point I kind of just gave up. I knew I'd relapsed, and I was pretty much buried in another hole I dug myself. I didn't want to push you away like that, but I couldn't even imagine that once you found out you'd want to be with someone like me anyway."

There was nothing I could do except hold his hand

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Brooklyn's breaths started to catch as he tried to hold back his emotions. "Please Nat," he said with a cracking voice. He took his sunglasses off and rubbed at his eyes, glassy and on the verge of tears. "I'll sort myself out. I promise. I just..." he took a deep inhale and put his sunglasses back on.

I sighed, taking his shaking hand in mine. "It's okay Brooklyn," I said as I tried to steady my voice. "You can't lie to me anymore. I want to help you, but there's no way I can if you keep pushing me away."

He nodded and brought his hand up to my face, wiping away a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. "I promise. No more lying. No more pushing away. Just me and you."

"Me and you, huh?" I asked, giving him another coy smirk.

Brooklyn replied with a chuckle. "I'm not good at this Nat. Any of this. I haven't had a real girlfriend since high school, and that was a disaster. I don't bring girls flowers, or punch guys in the face over them, or..." he took a deep breath, and his cheeks turning pink. "Or beg them to forgive me when I know I don't deserve it. But you?" Brooklyn's voice trailed off. "You just make me want to be good."

He paid for our lunch, much to my chagrin, and we made our way down to the beach. He carried my sandals for me, and we walked through the shallow water as it pulled back into the ocean. I wanted to freeze time, to stay in that moment forever, breathing the salty air and letting the tide wash away all the bad.

The entire drive back to my house, Brooklyn held onto my hand, tracing small circles on my palm with his thumb. As we drove through the streets of Devil's Point, they seemed smaller than usual, like all this commotion in my life had dwarfed the sparse humdrum I was so accustomed to. Brooklyn had become this larger than life entity that had invaded my space, turned my world on end, and changed everything I thought I knew about people.

I looked up at him as he hummed along to songs I'd heard a dozen times already but still couldn't pinpoint. When he squeezed my hand, I felt at ease. I felt hopeful.

✗✗✗