༺ NINETEEN ༻

"How was it at the fair?" Dad wonders the next morning. Once in a while, he takes the day off. And my nerves woke me up early, so even Sonya is still home when he asks the question.

"Really great," I say, smiling bright enough for the sip of water I take after replying to drape out of my mouth again. Blushing, I wipe my mouth.

You're right. I'm fucking jealous.

His words keep repeating in my head.

"What rides did you go in?"

"Bumper cars, fun slide, Ferris wheel... you know it." My water goes down the wrong pipe when I remind myself of the Ferris wheel.

I hate the idea of you dancing with him, though I know it's necessary. And even if I'd ever get the chance to replace him, I'd get so freaking weak from touching you that I'd fail immediately.

"You alright?"

I cough more water out when Newt walks in, and that only makes things worse. "Yup."

"She was just telling us about how awesome she had it at the fair with Thomas." Sonya rests her chin on her palms, smiling sweetly.

"Ah." Newt runs a hand through his messy, morning hair. "Was it worth it? Minho invited Winston and I for tonight."

"Very worth it." I nod so heavily it hurts my head. "I loved the Ferris wheel. It was beautiful."

I have my reasons for that, but that's none of their business, is it?

"You're beamin', so I'll believe ya." Newt shakes his cornflakes into a bowl. "What's on the program today?"

"Not much. Ballet and work, as always."

Ha, I'm going to Thomas's house at noon.

"And you?"

"Classes," he says. "Pass me a spoon?"

I hand him the spoon that was supposedly mine, but I changed my mind on eating breakfast. It's a useless meal anyways. I can live on dinners and lunches.

Unfortunately, I happen to do a sport that requires eating four hours before it, so that also means no lunch and after that sport I happen to have to work and it's a time waste to eat dinner in between. 

I'm a fool to myself, and I know it, but I like denying my feelings.

Just as much as I like watching the number on the scale drop.

❤︎︎

"Want a drink?" I'm sitting on Thomas's couch now. His parents aren't home, and apparently he has a cat I never knew of, who he also never mentioned.

"Water, please." And I continue petting the animal.

She's a sweetheart, really. A white cat with bright blue eyes. With a long tail and slim body. "Why'd you never say you have a cat? What's her name?"

"Because she hates me," Thomas says, his eyes piercing through the cat. "And it's a shameful thing because I ain't doin' anything wrong."

She miaows in a way that it makes me rethink Thomas's statement.

"What's her name?"

"Glitter."

"Are you serious?"

"I was eleven!"

I laugh, and it satisfies Glitter because she rolls her body against my leg. "It's that what Lady Glitter Pie comes from?"

"Maybe," he calls from the kitchen. "Also, do you want the last brownie? My mom baked."

"No, thank you." I lift Glitter onto my lap. She's like, super bloody cute. "Hey, if you hate her so much, can I have her?"

"My parents has some weird attachment to the cat, but otherwise, I would've agreed." He puts our drinks down. "She always scratches me."

"She knows you're a dog person."

"And you're not?"

"I'm both." I cross my legs so the cat is in between them. "Isn't he so rude to you, Glitter?"

Thomas pulls a face. "I don't want to start a war with a cat."

"You won't have to," I assure. My nails softly scratch Glitter's head. "I made my decision. Glitter is way cuter anyways."

When Thomas pulls an even worse face, I chuckle.

"Moving on, we're here to talk about what happened in the Ferris wheel," I say. "Except I don't have a lot to say about it, other than that I enjoyed it."

I don't know where that boldness came from, but I like it.

"So did I," he agrees.

I bite my lip as I look up at him. He's wearing a blue, long-sleeved shirt. I think it's the same one as the one he wore when I first met him, along with black pants.

"You know there's really nothing going between Aris and I, right?"

Thomas inspects his glass as if something might be in it while he speaks. "Well, Teresa got a big fat crush on him, but Aris is hard to read. And even if I would know he likes her or I know they're in a relationship, I'd still be jealous because he's touching you."

Warmth glides through my body. "You really don't have to be. Did you mean it when you said you'd take his place?"

"Of course," he mutters. "But unfortunately, I can't dance at all. Though even if I could, I wouldn't be able to."

My eyebrows furrow.

He knows I'm confused. "The accident," he says fast. "Those injuries aren't great."

I swallow, knowing this topic is more sensitive for him than I first thought it was. "What injuries did you get?"

Thomas inhales. He averts his eyes.

"You don't have to say it," I add quickly.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "My back, ankle, and arm."

My breathing hitches. I wait for him to maybe say more, but he doesn't, so I take the risk. "Would you mind telling me— you know.. how it happened?"

I'm just so bloody curious. It's a shame, honestly.

"Kid bumped into me," he says. "I fell. Broke my ankle. And since it was during practice and I wasn't wearing any protective clothes, his skate kind of... well, the sharp part— got below my shoulder blade... kind of bored in there." He rubs his nose. "I was lucky."

Teresa said he found out about things he wasn't supposed to find out about, and that that was why the accident happened.

Now, the story makes no sense.

I shiver at the thought and sight of someone's skate inside a back, and those shivers get even worse when I imagine Thomas in pain, on the rink, blood all around him.

"Anyways." Thomas straightens his back. "It's just some flashes of pain I sometimes have, so don't worry. We're here to talk about other things than my accident." And he smiles a smile I just know is fake.

I never got the chance to ask about his arm, and he didn't mention it.

Another mystery to solve, yay.

"I want to help you," I say, just out of a sudden. My mind hasn't even thought anything through and my mouth is already speaking in the future. "To get back into hockey."

His fake smile gains something realer, except it's sadness. "You don't have to do that, Blondie. I don't want you to."

I blink. "Why not?"

His expression now gets something more serious. "You'll only get yourself into more danger."

"What danger?" I urge, but then hold back. I have to remind myself that he might be too triggered by the accident and the company Teresa spoke about and maybe even Janson, to explain things.

"I'll tell you. Someday." He gets up, swallowing and attempting to hide an unfamiliar look in his eyes. "My mom asked if I could buy some—"

He remains silent when I suddenly have my arms wrapped around him.

I just really need to comfort him because it looks like no one has done that in a while.

I stand on my tiptoes, which isn't hard considering I dance, and just rest my head on his shoulder as my hand moves over his back.

A relieved sigh leaves his mouth, and it lets me know I've succeeded the task. Slowly, Thomas hugs me back.

For the following minute, we just stand there. And I don't mind at all.

"As I was saying," he starts quietly, "my mom asked me if I could just buy some groceries. Do you want to come with me before ballet?"

I nod. My head hurts as I do it, and it takes a second for my vision to get clearer when I let go of Thomas. "I'll come with you."

Hoping no family members of mine happen to look out of the window, I sit down in Thomas's car and he starts driving.

In the first place, I planned to look down because his hand is lingering around my leg in a suspicious way, as if he's about to touch it, but then I'm distracted by my thighs.

I stare at them. They're bare today. I'm wearing a skirt and a big sweater, yet I'm now changing my mind about my choices.

I feel sick.

The stomach roars vanish. I no longer feel hungry when I stare at my thighs. And I realize that maybe it's not just eight pounds. That I've been too easy on myself the past years.

I realize that maybe I'm just not skinny.

Thomas says something, but the cotton won't get out of my ears until he wipes his hand in front of my eyes.

"What'd you say?" I try to sound as normal as possible, but the words come out weakly.

"I said I like your outfit." His soft smile lits a part of me up. "It's cute."

I can't help but smile. Thomas always manages to make me smile, no matter what. "Thank you."

"So." He clears his throat. "What now? What... are we now?"

I've forgotten about my previous thoughts already and can only think of an answer to his question. "I don't know."

He doesn't reply, which stresses me out. I fidget with my sleeves, expecting to see the store once we stop driving, but Thomas seems to have taken a wrong turn.

"Come on." He opens my door, takes my hand, and walks down a small hill with me.

Then, I think I've arrived in bloody paradise.

Flowers. Everywhere. From roses to tulips to dandelions and unknown plants. It's an explosion of colors that takes my breath away.

A laugh automatically leaves my mouth at this sight. It morphs with the breeze, then fades and gets replaced by another laugh I let out when we start walking down.

"What's all of this for?" I smile brightly at Thomas, who's smile is definitely lighter, but also real.

"Considering your reply to my question.." He takes both of my hands. "..and my feelings for you, I made the impulsive decision that I don't want us to be 'I don't know'. But I'm not going to do anything in a freaking car."

My breaths also fly away with the wind.

"So, Rose." His eyes squint. "Can I be your colleague, window mate, neighbor, brother's friend, and boyfriend?"

I think this is a dream.

I make a jump from happiness. Yes, I've had a crush before, but not one in which I got butterflies every second and especially not one where the boy liked me back.

"Yes!" I laugh into his chest. "Gladly, Thomas."

Before I know it, I'm kissing him again.

It's passionate and feels so good that I can't believe this is only one of the many kisses we could share in the future, and I already know I'll adore every second of it.

"But," I start, our faces so close I can feel his breaths, "I don't want Newt to know. Not yet. You know how he is with the protectiveness and I don't want him to kill you, or maybe start stalking you to make sure you don't do anything bad, just yet."

Thomas chuckles. "First of all, I promise I won't do anything bad or anything that'll make Newt want to kill me."

I smile.

"And second of all, if we're not telling Newt, we can't tell anyone."

My eyebrows shoot up. "I'm in for that."

He gives me a challenging grin. "Some secret dating can't hurt, right?"

"As long as you're not gonna betray us, or do stupid things."

Thomas gasps. "The fact you think I out of the two of us would do that!"

"I wouldn't," I confirm, crossing my arms.

"Neither would I." He takes my hand so we can start walking back to the car. "But I would tease you in public without anyone noticing."

"You wouldn't."

"I totally would."

"Don't even dare!"

"Tell me it makes you uncomfortable and I'll stop." He shrugs. "If not, then I guess there's not much blocking my way."

I cover the blush on my cheeks up by burying my head in his shoulder, then find myself back in the car, smiling brightly.

"I'll tease you back if you even dare," I say. "Watch out."

Thomas scoffs. "You're the kindest, most innocent person ever. You won't do it."

"I could just be doing this under the dinner table..." His sharp inhale at my hand on his inner thigh satisfies me. "...and you've folded."

He glances at me. "And I can do the exact same."

"Either a lose-lose or win-win."

Once again, dizziness hits me for a split second after I step out of the car, then everything is fine again.

In the store, I just follow Thomas around a bit. He stops now and then, this time at the period products.

"Even with the secret dating, I want you to have a basket in my house," he decides. "What do you use?"

There's so many feelings flowing inside of me that I nearly start crying at the gesture as I point at the pads and tampons I use.

Once we're done with that, we stay together until I tell Thomas I have to restock some things, and go search for the cheap concealer and blush in one corner while he buys food.

Unfortunately, they only have the concealer. I put it in my empty basket along with hair gel and spray for ballet, then go find Thomas.

I walk past the boxes full of medication and only manage to hold back for a second before I have snatched something away and put it in my basket, too.

Laxative pills.

There's nothing wrong with it. It would just be more helpful. Swallow a few of those pills and it'll purge the calories of my food, but I'd still have a full stomach.

It's perfect.

Just like everything right now.

I have Thomas, the role of Clara, my family, and a promise that I'll listen to Teresa and Thomas by not becoming Janson's next star. I will keep him as a coach, but if he asks me to do that world tour, I won't.

It's the beginning of the chapter in a book I'd have as my comfort one.

That's what it feels like, yes. The first chapter that leads into many other sweet, harmless ones.