Everywhere, Everything. ★ STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next morning I woke to pale, bright sunlight blinding from overhead. I groaned, pulling at the thin blanket to shield my eyes. The movement agitated the muscle in my neck which felt like it had been wound too tight for too long. I lazily rubbed at the sleep still resting in my eyes with the back of my hand, blinking at the room.

I'd fallen asleep on the bean bag with my neck dangling off the side, just above the floor. No wonder it felt like I needed a chiropractor to crack every bone in my body.

Matt was still sound asleep opposite me, his legs spread out, face down in his own bean bag. He clutched a blue and white knit throw to his chest. We must've passed out in the middle of talking. The last thing I remember is our conversation about how the boys had been floating the idea of moving away from L.A..

"I don't know if we'd come back to Boston full-time," he said. "We're getting older now, and we can't keep running home anytime life starts to push us."

I'd told him that it wasn't a bad thing having a home to run back to. "I hear that's what family is for." I nudged him with my shoulder. A sad smile flickered across his face that felt like it should've been reserved for a puppy at a shelter instead of me.

Half moon marks formed in my palms. I squinted. "I'm going to need you to stop doing that."

His brows furrowed. "Doing what?"

"That," I waved my hand in front of his face, "looking at me like I'm some kind of lost puppy you want to take home."

There was so much bitterness in my voice, it shocked me as much as it had Matt, his face repositioning into confusion.

"Nat, I -"

I lifted my hand, stopping him. "No, I know. I'm sorry."

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, awkwardly looking out into the night. The rain had subsided, leaving the trees weighed down in water. Round puddles formed beneath the window sills on the dirt path leading away from the cabin.

"Opening up to you, to your brothers, is one of the scariest decisions I've ever made," I whispered. Matt didn't answer, but I could see him looking at me from the corner of my eye. I fiddled with the string on my pajama pants. "And when you look at me like that, like you want to piece me back together, it pisses me off. More than that, it hurts." I was looking at him now, biting back tears stinging behind my eyes. I hoped it was dark enough so he couldn't see.

"I don't need to be fixed," I said a little sterner, though I knew it was more for myself than him.

There was nothing he could say, so he gave me the faintest nod, a pained expression tinting his features.

Part of me felt guilty about how harsh I was after we'd spent the whole night surrounded by a weird complicated bubble of emotions - but I was being honest. It was one thing for someone I didn't care about to curl their lip and nod their head in sympathy at what I'd gone through; however, it was entirely different for Matt to watch me like I was made of glass, ready to break at any moment.

I might've allowed myself to show a few cracks the past couple of days, but that didn't mean I was going to shatter. There wasn't a chance in hell I'd let them see that.

As quietly as I could, I stood up from my spot on the bean bag, tiptoeing over to the door. Please don't squeak, please don't squeak. I edged the door open and the same shrill pitch started. I froze, my eyes wide landing on Matt. He shifted in his sleep, an indistinct moan coming from him. I bit my lip.

Okay, yank it fast like a bandaid. I braced my hand around the wobbly gold knob and twisted my eyes closed before jerking the door wide open. Its hinges squealed momentarily, but were nowhere near as loud as it'd been before. I sighed, relieved.