Kinsley

Dinner is awkward. At least, any conversation involving Jack and me is awkward. It's obvious Jack doesn't like me.

Which is why I stay silent throughout most of dinner, enjoying the banter between Jack, Cole, and Noel. They're an entertaining group to listen to. Like a bunch of farm team hockey players at a pub post-game.

Despite my silence, this somewhat social event goes better than my outing with Noel, Cole, Tristan, and Mariana did. Then again, I know Cole and Noel better now. Perhaps I'm biased. Perhaps I was too judgemental during our first outing.

Regret pinches my heart. When we return to campus, I'll have to have a discussion with Tristan and Mariana. I owe them an apology for my behaviour. I'm in charge of my reactions, which is why I need to be held accountable.

After dinner, Jack announces old age is affecting him. He decides it's time for bed. Before leaving, he presses a kiss to his grandson's forehead. It's adorable when Noel blushes. He gives Cole's shoulder a squeeze. When Jack's eyes find mine, he gives me a tight smile and curt nod.

I return the smile, despite the strange vibe.

Jack leaves without another word.

Looking at Noel, I say, "Your grandpa hates me."

Noel stares after his grandpa, running a hand through his hair. "Gramps is... complicated. He meant no harm. Don't take it personally, Kinsley."

He climbs to his feet. "I'll finish off the dishes. Then we'll watch a movie?"

Cole and I nod.

After Noel's collected the remaining plates and has exited the dinning room, Cole turns to me.

"Jack is a drunk," Cole mutters. "Just like Noel's father."

I blink in surprise. "Really? I never would've thought Jack was."

Cole glances at me. "Some alcoholics can function. Jack is one of them."

My heart breaks a little. Although alcoholics are victims of addiction, which is a mental health illness, part of me feels disgusted. It's wrong of me. I should feel empathetic for Jack. But after having a drunk driver kill my family and friends, I feel a pinch of hatred. I'm torn in two regarding Jack's habits.

I do, however, feel bad for Noel. Proud, too. Dealing with alcoholics his whole life must be difficult. He's strong.

"Noel must have a difficult time."

Cole nods. He's staring after Noel, rubbing his jaw. "Noel has difficulty accepting it. Jack has never abused Noel. Not like his dad did. Noel's quick to defend Jack. Sometimes that puts me in a vulnerable position. Jack does try, but he's still an addict. Noel wants to believe Jack is better than his father, despite his bad habits. There is a line I have to walk."

I send Cole a sympathetic look. "That sounds complicated. I could never deal with this."

"You could, love. Giving yourself credit is a flaw of yours. You're stronger than you think," Cole yawns. He looks exhausted. "It's not easy, I'll admit that much. But that's enough for now. Let's go pick a movie, love."

Following Cole, I enter the living room. It's similar to the basement suite. Two leather couches and a coffee table create a comfortable seating area. A large flatscreen TV is mounted above the mantle of the stone fireplace. Pictures line the mantle, as well. A warm glow comes from the old-fashioned lamps sitting upon the side tables between the couches.

Cole tells me to sit down while he hooks up the DVD player. I chuckle. Although Noel is tech-savvy, seeing a DVD player here doesn't surprise me. Nor does the collection of DVDs in the shelving system next to the TV.

As Cole is reading out movie titles, Noel enters the living room.

"No superhero movies, mate."

As always, Noel's fake British accent makes me laugh.

Cole looks like he wants to puke. "Bloody hell. Will you stop that bullshit accent?" He glances at the movie in his hand, then tosses it back to the shelf. "You pick the movie, then."

When Cole sits down on the couch, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Judging by the way he's rubbing his stomach, I'd say Cole's about to slip into a food coma.

Tearing my gaze away from a sleepy Cole, I look at Noel. "What other movies do you have?"

Noel glances at the shelf. "Why don't you take a look? There was a limited choice last time. You can choose the movie."

That sounds fair. I had to decide between Noel and Cole's favourite movies. With a broader range, I can pick one I prefer. Sliding off of the couch, I saunter over to where Noel is. Once I'm there, I plant myself next to him. We're so close our shoulders are pressing together. The warmth of his body makes my skin tingle. He smells good, too. Like outdoors with a pinch of spice and old leather.

I run my fingers over the movies, noting each one. They range from rom-coms to old Western movies to Disney cartoons.

"You have quite the selection," I say.

Noel shrugs. "Gramps likes DVDs. He refuses to get Netflix or CraveTV."

I snort. "That sounds like a crime."

"Nah," Noel laughs. "I have Netflix. I've seen all these movies one too many times, seeing as I grew up with them. Besides, I prefer TV shows. Netflix has some good ones." He winks at me. "Don't tell Gramps about Netflix, though. This is our little secret."

"My lips are sealed," I smile.

After several minutes, I decide on The Change-Up starring Jason Bateman and Ryan Reynolds. I've seen it already, but you can never go wrong with comedy. Besides, any movie with Ryan Reynolds is perfect. Except for Green Lantern. That one was bad.

I hold the movie out to Noel. "This is one of my favourites."

Noel smiles at the DVD. "Excellent choice. A classic comedy."

Noel turns around to insert the DVD into the DVD player. While he's doing that, I make myself comfortable on the couch.

After several seconds of Noel wrestling with the remote to change the channel, Cole speaks up.

"Mate. Upgrade to something modern and you won't have this issue. Have you heard of AppleTV?"

Noel snorts. "Tell that to Gramps. Besides, why do you care? You're half asleep already."

Cole's voice is gruff. "Too much food."

My lips twist to one side, fighting off a smile. "Maybe you should go to bed?" I suggest. "Cole, you look exhausted. Embrace the food coma."

Sighing, Cole sits up and rubs his eyes. "You may be right, love." He yawns. "Have fun watching the movie."

Noel exaggerates a gasp of surprise. "Did Cole Robinson finally take someone's advice?"

Cole flips Noel the bird. "Cocked-up nutter."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. By now, I should be used to Cole's British slang. I'm not, though. I find it really freaking strange. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Noel says. He turns to face us. "I'm a screwed-up crazy person." He crosses his arms and shoots a playful glare at Cole, clearing his throat. "Mate, you're looking bloody knackered."

I laugh again.

Cole gets up and slaps his best friend on the shoulder, looking, as Noel said, bloody knackered. "Wish I could make it through the movie, but maybe next time." He looks at me. "'I'll see you in the morning, love."

"Night, Cole," I reply.

When Cole's exited the living room and his footsteps have become dormant on the stairs, Noel sits beside me. "Think you'll make it?"

"Please," I scoff. "You should be asking yourself that question. I've never seen someone work as hard as you. Can't believe you're not the one fading in and out."

He waves it off. "Cole's a lightweight. I'm used to it. I grew up here."

"That is true," I admit.

Noel bumps his shoulder against mine. "So, are you ready?"

"Yes," I reply. A giddy feeling spreads through my chest. This is the first time Noel and I have truly been one-on-one. I'm omitting our sushi date because other people were around. Plus, the drive here was too stressful for me. Being in a comfortable environment with someone I'm beginning to trust doesn't fuel my PTSD. I have to say... I enjoy it. "Let's watch the movie."

*  *  *

Halfway through the movie, Noel falls asleep in one of the most awkward, uncomfortable positions I've ever seen. He's sitting up, his neck bent to the side. If he continues to sleep like that, he'll have a kink in his neck tomorrow.

That's why I decide to give him the couch. With ease, I move Noel so he's laying down on his side with a decorative pillow supporting his neck. I cover him with the knitted throw blanket.

I move to the other couch and watch the remainder of the movie.

Well... I stare at the TV. My mind is somewhere else. Just like the multiple times I've gotten lost in my own thoughts, I find myself thinking, thinking, thinking. It starts off with the basics: the accident, how much I miss everyone, the survivor's guilt I feel. While it does sadden me, it doesn't make me cry.

Cole's words from earlier echo in my mind. Over and over I've been told I'm strong. Each time, those words have never meant anything to me. But Cole's words hit different. It's not his job to tell me I'm strong, unlike the counsellors and my remaining family members. Cole really thinks it's true.

And maybe he's right.

Self progress has been made. I opened up to Cole about my trauma. Although it was in the heat of the moment, I don't regret it. Cole knowing my history makes things easier. His support makes me want to share my story with Daisy and Noel.

Somehow, I managed to become strong enough to talk about it, which is a major contribution to the healing process.

I still have a long way to go, though. I know I'm making progress, but I also know that one day, I need to let go of the people I lost. Let them go, but also never forget them. It sounds ridiculous, like a total contradiction. I've accepted what's happened and have allowed myself to take part in the healing process, but I still need to let them go, to stop letting them get in the way of the life I should be living.

I look down at the nail I've been picking at while lost in thought. I'm glad my grandparents forced me to go to therapy after the accident. If they hadn't, I wouldn't have the proper tools to deal with my emotions. Sometimes, they get the best of me and I have no choice but to break down. That's normal. I'm only human. Yet even with the right coping mechanisms, it's still difficult.

Speaking of my grandparents... I pull out my iPhone and glance down at the time. It's late, but age has never stopped my grandparents from staying up late. Especially in the spring and summer. They have this odd fetish for sitting out on the deck and playing crib until late into the night. I haven't talked to them for a while. I feel like I should give them a call, tell them about how good I feel. That's something I know they would love to hear. And I want to tell them about the conversation I had with my therapist.

But, just as I'm about to dial their number, Noel sits up, sweating and gasping for air. He drops his face into his shaky hands and tries to take a deep breath.

My phone slips from my hands. Fear shoots through my spine, and panic saturates my cells. It takes me a moment to put the pieces together, but when I do, my whole world freezes.

Noel just had a nightmare.

Obviously, a very bad nightmare if he's shaking and incapable of catching his breath.

I freeze, not knowing what to do. Which is kind of funny if you think about it. After suffering from nightmares for so many years, you'd think I'd know what to do. But this is Noel we're talking about. He's independent, a little arrogant, and, well, he's someone who has the guts to get up on stage and sing his heart out. This seems so out of character for him.

Also, I'm scared. With the weird emotions that have been surfacing between the two of us for the past few weeks, I'm scared with what might come after if I comfort him. Then again, I would feel terrible for leaving him alone.

In the end, I get up and walk over to him. I don't know if I'm doing this right, but what I do know is that I would want someone there to comfort me, to stay by my side until the nightmare is nothing more than a thin wisp of smoke in the air.

"N-Noel?" I stutter. "Are you okay?"

I roll my eyes. Why am I stuttering? I'm making myself sound like a fool. My behaviour is ridiculous. I should be wrapping my arms around him and comforting him, letting him know he's not alone, just like my grandparents did to me before they left campus. But the thing is, I've never experienced someone else having a nightmare other than myself. Usually, I'm the one crying and struggling to breathe.

Noel doesn't reply, so I take that as my chance to continue speaking.

Staring at a knot in the wood of the floor, I say, "I know what they're like. The nightmares."

I feel Noel shift beside me, and I look up. He's turned to face me, a look of anguish in his eyes, like he wants to cry but won't allow himself to. He clears his throat. "Nightmares are awful," he replies. "But what happens when your dreams are worse?"

His words catch me off guard to the point where I feel like I'm tumbling down a small incline. My stomach doing uncomfortable flips.

The truth is, I know exactly what he means. When you dream about what could've been, what would've been, it breaks your heart, ruptures your soul. Though I do prefer the dreams over the nightmares, they still hurt.

The longer I stare at Noel, the more I want to talk to him. Whether I like it or not, we have a connection. One I don't think I can ignore, which, in turn, makes it harder for me to ignore my feelings about him.

"I know what you mean," I whisper, my eyes burning. "It's what could've been had that event not happened, had you not made a stupid decision. It's the 'what ifs' and 'if only I would'ves.' I've faced a lot of those in my life, so I know what you're talking about."

I wrap an arm around his shoulders to let him know I'm here if he needs me. It's strange, but it's something my grandma always does when I'm upset. The comfort helps me, so maybe it'll help Noel, too.

It does; he leans his body against mine. Resting his head on my shoulder. "I hate these moments," he says. "These moments where you still wish you could go back in time and fix everything even though you know it's impossible."

"Join the club," I mutter, resting my head against his. This new level of comfort between us feels good. It's similar to the times that Cole has comforted me, but also very different. For one thing, I'm doing the comforting.

I also have feelings for Noel. The realization hits me hard. Shit.

Clearing my throat, I continue. "These small moments where you feel like you've lost control of everything suck." I take a deep breath, finding it hard to believe what I'm about to say next. "But you do regain control of your life. It's a painfully slow process, but it still happens whether you want it to or not. And then, one day, one moment, it's just a memory."

My eyes water as I think about Aaron. I'll always remember him, always love him, but I know I need to move on, maybe even find someone else to love. One day, Aaron went from being mine to someone who used to be mine. He would want me to be happy.

Noel pulls away and looks at me. He gives me a half smile, one that's more upset than happy. "Well, it's taking way too fucking long," he replies.

I smile back. I don't know what Noel's been through. How his life has been shaken up, but I like that we have a mutual understanding of pain and how long it takes to heal, to adapt to. I like that we understand each other in a way no one else can.

Reaching up, I brush away a piece of his dark blond hair. It's damp from the sweat, and his cheeks are still flushed, but he looks just as handsome as ever. Devilishly handsome. I want to tangle my fingers in his hair. Kiss him again.

"Kinsley?" Noel asks.

"Yes?" I reply.

He sighs and rubs the length of his face with the heel of his hand. "Will you stay here tonight? If it happens again, I don't want to wake up alone."

I nod without hesitation. I can't count the number of times I wished I had someone in the room with me. Someone to help me deal with the aftermath of the nightmares.

Staring into his brown eyes, I feel my heart break in two. I know his pain all too well.

"Noel," I say.

"Yeah?" he asks.

I bite my lip. On the tip of my tongue is everything that's happened to me. I want to tell him about the accident, about everything. I want this weight I continuously bear to be stripped from my shoulders and heart.

But nothing comes out. If our positions were switched and I had had the nightmare, then maybe it would be my place to tell him. But I can't possibly tell him right now. That would make this moment all about me when it's supposed to be all about him.

"Never mind, "I reply, shaking my head.

"Kinsley," Noel says firmly. "Whatever you have to say is just as important as anything I have to say. Don't ever forget that."

I look up at him, and my eyes settle on his lips. The tips of my fingers begin to tingle as our kiss from the other day plays in my mind. This connection has done something to me. Something that's making me act out of the ordinary.

"It's just..." I trail off.

"What?" he asks softly.

I don't know if he realizes it, but he's tracing the pad of his thumb across the back of my hand.

"I understand," I say. "I understand what you're going through."

Noel doesn't hide the disappointment on his face nor do I try to smother the disappointment I suddenly feel. I'm disappointed. Moments ago I was thinking I was getting over all this, that I was healing. Yet here I am, stuck in a situation where I'm unable to open up about my past, unable to find the courage to tell my story. One moment I'm strong, and the next I'm not.

The disappointment, however, doesn't stop Noel from lacing his fingers with mine and giving my hand a comforting squeeze. His touch makes me feel as though I've been electrocuted, and the urge to kiss him is back in full-force.

I want the adrenaline and the risk. I want his warmth, his taste. I want him. 

Noel, sensing my hesitance, leans closer. His breath is hot on my mouth. "Thanks, Kinsley," he whispers.

I wait, but the kiss doesn't come immediately. I'm confused. I thought for sure that Noel wanted to kiss me, too. I feel another jab of disappointment.

But I'm proven wrong.

Noel presses his lips against mine, and any doubt fades into oblivion. I let go of his hand and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. His hands slide up my body to cup my face, his thumb skimming my cheekbone.

The kiss is feverish, intense, and passionate, and it makes me feel as though I've just gone cliff jumping into the lake. I'm falling, falling, falling, and then hitting the water, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I rise to the surface, gasping for air. It's a song I want stuck on replay.

When we're both in need of air, we break the kiss.

I stare at Noel.

He stares at me.

I don't feel guilty. Whatever happened to Noel in his past has opened up a connection between us, something that seems as though no one else but the two of us can understand. Mentally, I scold myself for judging him. My trauma got in the way of getting to know him. If I had sooner...

My mind refuses to follow my heart's curiosities. Instead, it sticks with the logic. My assumptions about Noel.

Sometimes people display certain behavioural attributes to hide what's beneath. I think that's what Noel has done. I'm not sure why. Pressing him for information isn't a good idea. He's fragile. Also, I don't want to be intrusive.

As I stare at Noel, I realize I can still see that haunted look in his eyes. And it only becomes even more saturated when he says, "Please stay with me."

Slowly, I nod my head, following his lead when he lays down on the couch.

It's strange to lay down beside him, to be this close. It feels more intimate than anything I've ever done, like I'm overstepping some type of boundary between us.

But when Noel drapes his arm over my side and rests his warm palm against the small of my back, that awkward feeling fades and I'm left with nothing but comfort.

It's been a long time since I've made a connection with someone who can actually understand a broken part of me. I miss comfort. Understanding. I miss falling in love with someone and waking up in their arms.

Within minutes, I find myself dozing off. I'm pressed up against the warmth of Noel's body, hoping he falls into a dreamless sleep.