Right Where You Left Me

mirrorball

On the night of Halloween, it rains.

I stare anxiously as the rain pours down in sheets. Biting my lip, I pull the curtain shut and turn to look in the mirror.

Tonight I am Alaska Young, wearing her long white dress with the puffy sleeves and the lace detailing. The hem swishes around my feet. My hair is soft and flows down my back in unruly waves; I've braided a couple of strands of hair, too. In the books, Miles describes (several times) the outfit Alaska wore when he first saw her; tight, short orange tank top, and short cutoff jean shorts. But Halloween is cold, and I'm not leaving the house in pouring rain wearing jean shorts and a tank top. Besides, the outfit is so generic no one would be able to guess it. At least my dress is a little more noticeable.

I head into the bathroom, reaching for my darkest eyeshadow and a brush. I shadow it all along the outside of my eye, the same way Alaska does in the show; it doesn't look too messy, but it doesn't look too clean either. I lean back, satisfied, and grin.

Nate's bedroom door opens and he grins when he sees me. "Alaska Young, is that you?" he asks.

I laugh. "Yup," I say. "You're probably the only one who'll be able to guess my costume."

He just grins. "Good."

I take my pair of vintage dangly black jewel earrings that I got for half-off at the thrift store, and I lean in towards the mirror to put them in.

Nate crosses his arms and leans in the doorframe. "I like your dress."

I grin. "Thank you." I turn to him, looking him up and down. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"No one," he says, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards me. "I completely forgot about the party until yesterday."

"You're no fun," I laugh. I try to click my earring into place, but it misses my piercing and clips against my skin instead. Earrings have never been my strong suit, and I usually ask Nancy for help, but she's at a restaurant with one of her friends tonight. I wince in pain and turn to Nate, earrings in hand. "Can you help me?"

He raises a brow, but takes the earrings from me. They look tiny in his giant hand, but his fingers are slender and nimble and they easily handle the earrings.

"Turn your head for me, love," Nate murmurs, and I oblige, turning my head to the side. He puts the earring in much quicker than I expected.

One of his hands snakes around my jaw and gently turns my head the other way. His fingertips are cold as they press against my skin. I suppress a shiver.

"Done," he says, but neither of us move. We stand there, his hand around my jaw, our faces inches apart.

The space between us is charged with an unknown electricity. I want more of him touching me. I want his lips pressed against mine. His eyes dart to my lips, and I know he wants the same thing. Right?

The doorbell rings and I jolt away from Nate. There's an emotion that flashes through his eyes - hurt? frustration? - before it's quickly replaced by his cool, bored demeanour that he always has.

I brush past Nate to go answer the door. As I run down the stairs, I don't know how to feel. Part of me is relieved that moment wasn't turned into something more. I don't need relationship complications on top of everything else. But another, smaller part of myself wonders what would happen if the doorbell didn't ring. Would Nate have kissed me?

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"Is it just me, or is there some tension between you and Nate?" Alex asks. We're sitting in the car; Alex and Kate in the back, me in the passengers seat. The car is parked in the gas station parking lot and Nate has gone inside to buy some cheap liquor.