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

has made my lips looser than usual, and I

about our kiss in the

beat of silence passes

softly, looking

unreadable. “Abby, I—”

I interrupt. “I shouldn’t

the one who should be apologizing.

have done that. It

I

something that the old Karl ever

him, taking the bottle from his hands.

it back. Our fingers

“Karl, I…”

though reading my mind.

you should be focusing on tomorrow. On

confusion. “Okay,’ I say,

my chest, the yearning to press my lips to his again. Maybe it’s the

way his

ignore it, because

tension between us eases a little, but the unsaid words still hover over

heads, watching, waiting.

another deep swig of the

deep breath. “Can I tell you

nod, turning my head to look at him.

a weird way.

my brother may wake up soon,” he says

coma.”

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