THE BRIGHTSIDE, robby keene

016 - holding grudges

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HOLDING GRUDGES
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"OF COURSE NOT."

Robby turns fully around to Mercy, now sitting cross-legged on her couch. She could talk about whatever she wanted, he'd be happy as long as she wouldn't stop.

"You remember when I told you about me watching the stars with my grandpa in Nagua?" Her head kinda uncomfortably leaning against her wall, she looks at him.

She's never really spoken about her grandpa like that before. Only one time, but Miguel didn't turn out to be a great listener.

"Yeah, you would count them until you were tired enough to fall asleep," he replies.

Both of their coffees are probably cold now, but she clings to hers like it's still giving her the warmth the sprinklers took away from her earlier.

"He always told me, Meches, one day I'll fly to the stars. And when I'm not here anymore, you know where to find me."

She closes her eyes. It's been years since he told her that, years since he's spoken for the last time in general. Why does it feel like yesterday that he's left this earth?

"So, sometimes when I can't sleep, which happens a lot of times, whatever, I look through that thing," she points at her telescope, "and try to find him."

She laughs slightly at her own words, not believing what she just admitted.
"That sounds crazy. I know he's not out there, but it's like I'm a child again and we're watching the stars together."

She's back in Nagua and five, seven, and twelve years old. Alberto Santiago by her side and pointing out a constellation they haven't seen before.

Thinking about him makes her want to cry. Is there even a point in life when you've really gotten over a death? Or does it haunt you forever until you fall in an everlasting sleep as well?

A warm hand lies on top of hers and she finally opens her eyes again. Robby's hand is softer than it looks like with his cracked knuckles from training.

"It's not crazy," he tells her, "you're finishing what he started."

She nods. She just wants to understand the places that he yearned for. Maybe it would bring her closer to him again.

Mercy turns her hand around, so that she can grab his fingers.

"Thank you," she mumbles, looking at their hands, "for listening."

Robby swallows hard. She looks beautiful right now, with her damp curls framing her face and the mascara smudged around her eyes. But he likes it even more when she's smiling, when her smile illuminates her whole face and she shines brighter than the sun.

Feeling her hand in his is great, he doesn't want to let it go. But he has to, eventually.

"You know, we'll get back at them. Especially Hawk that son of a bitch," she says.

He doesn't know if he should appreciate the change of topic, but he pulls his hand out of hers, not noticing the slight fall of her face.