Abby

“Need some company?”

Karl’s eyes slide over to the bottle in my hand, and a slight smirk tugs at the

corners of his lips. He scooches aside and nods for me to join him. “Sure.”

I join him as he leans against the wall. Our shoulders brush as we stand beside

one another, a familiar yet bittersweetly nostalgic current of electricity running up

my spine. I tilt the bottle up to my lips and take a swig, then hand it to him. He

does the same.

“So…” he starts, but then hesitates, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Enter title…

“What’s up?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, peering down into the bottle as he swirls

the wine around.

“Like what happened the other night?” The words escape before I can rein them

in. A hot flush of embarrassment immediately rises into my cheeks; the alcohol

made my lips looser than usual, and I

our kiss in the pantry

silence passes between

kiss,” he says softly, looking

unreadable. “Abby, I—”

to apologize,” I interrupt. “I shouldn’t

the one

done that. It was

slightly at Karl’s words. I didn’t expect

that the old Karl ever liked

turning toward him, taking the bottle from his hands.

then hand it back. Our fingers

“Karl, I…”

as though reading my

be focusing on tomorrow. On your

to hide my confusion. “Okay,’ I say, though I

the yearning to press my lips to

or the way his eyes

ignore it, because Karl is right.

eases a little, but the unsaid words still hover over

heads, watching, waiting.

deep swig of the wine, as if fortifying himself for

deep breath. “Can I tell you

nod, turning my head to look at him. The brick wall feels cool against my

a weird way.

brother may wake up soon,” he says quietly. “From

coma.”

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