With memories I so painfully retrieve.
Everything was a mess in my head. I couldn't think straight. How was I supposed to? Even the thought of the exhibition sent chills down my back.
I was on the verge of another panic attack. Jacob was there, right there, and I was trying so hard to hold myself together.
There stood Jacob, standing like a god, right in front of me, and in my head was Reece and only Reece and maybe a little bit Corey.
Reece, Corey, Jacob, and me; disaster.
Jacob used to be so protective of me, and Reece just kept on hurting me, and I couldn't remember the last proper conversation I had with Corey.
Everything was a mess.
I don't know how I was keeping the realization from hitting me square in the chest, knocking out my breath, and stumbling me to the floor. It was as if the information was effusing. Slowly, bit by bit, at a speed that could be tackled by my brain.
Immediate problems. I reminded myself and shut off the leaking hole inside my head.
Jacob sat right beside me, and my heart started beating wildly. I was a kid before, I wasn't a kid anymore. Things were different.
"So, have you written your speech?"
"No, Reece, Corey, and I were going to work together on it tomorrow."
"Well, we can work on it right now, if you want and if it's okay with your friend."
The thing I liked the most about that interaction is the fact that he didn't spare Josepha a single glance. In a way, it did hurt me but it was nice to know that I still had his attention.
"I don't mind..." Josepha spoke quickly, trying not to be the center of the conversation. I looked at her and I was in a dilemma.
I knew she'd be fine but I didn't want to leave her alone, not when she was in my house. So, I did the sanest most and rational thing there was to do.
"You're going to have to pardon me for this." I spoke to Jacob before clearing my throat and shouting "Nick!" at the top of my voice.
My dear brother was in my room in thirty seconds.
"Darling, please tell me you have a valid reason for disrupting my well-earned sleep." He said in a low, threatening voice.
"Don't kill the messanger! Josepha wanted to spend some time with you!"
"No, I never said that!" Josepha protested.
"But you want that!" I wiggled my eyebrows a little at her, grinning.
"Well, if that's what the lady wants."
Josepha was speechless. She stayed quiet as Nicolas sat beside her on the floor, looking admirably at her painting. And their conversation prevailed only in the form of hushed whispers from then.
I spent the next hour writing my speech with Jacob. He let me do my thing and remained silent as I wrote and rewrote the speech a billion times.
I could swear I found him staring at me at least five times, but I refused to let myself believe that maybe he wasn't just staring at me because he was there to help me.
I refused to let myself believe I was imagining his eyes on me.
I refused to let myself believe that he anyhow found me cute.
YOU ARE READING
The Fourth Boy
Romance"A thanks to all my tears Who were always there in my darkest times when I was alone." This book is not about my pathetic pitied self. Perhaps that's all they'll ever see me as, perhaps they'll always assume that I was the victim. Perhaps this will...
