To Brooklyn, With Love (Completed) - Finding You Book 2

Brooklyn

Today I feel good. It's almost 8am, which means I'm about to have the place to myself, and I'm listening to one of my favorite albums as I shower and get ready for a day of complete relaxation. I've been on my own for too long, but since I've been staying with Harrison and Sophie, I find myself having less and less alone time.

I reached a point that I realize that I'm getting comfortable here. I don't want to go back to my tiny, awful apartment. I don't want to think about the situations I'm really hiding from. I've always been a dreamer, and it's easier to pretend this is my real life than to deal with what I've left behind.

I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself before I head back into my room. There's a note slid halfway under my door and I bend down carefully to pick it up. Those little sneaks must've shoved it there while I was getting ready.

It's written in blue crayon, but the handwriting clearly does not belong to Sophie.

Brooklyn:

Today I am making my Daddy peanut butter sandwiches for his birthday dinner and I would like you to come. It is a secret, so don't tell him. Wear a pretty dress, please. See you at 5 in the kitchen.

Love, Sophie Reid.

P.S. Auntie Layla knows. She helped me write this. She says you should call her today.

Layla's number is written at the bottom and I make a mental note to program it into my phone. Harrison adores her and I can see why; she's clearly one of the good ones.

I fold up the note and hold it tightly. I didn't know it was Harrison's birthday. And while this relationship thing is fake, Harrison is most definitely my friend and I feel like I should at least buy him something small to let him know how much I appreciate him. I just don't know what.

I ditch my leggings and hoodie for jeans and a faded vintage Phillies shirt, realizing I now have to leave the house.

And although I fought him long and hard on it, he insists I use his second car. He said bringing my car to his place would make me traceable and that it's just easier this way, but I still feel like I'm taking advantage of him.

Nevertheless, I put on a pot of coffee and sit at the kitchen table with my finger hovering over Layla's number. I'm nervous. She's kind and understands that Harrison and I are only friends, but I'm worried she'll ask questions or think I'm using her brother and that I'll break his heart. Hell, even I'm worried I'm using him. That's why I'm trying to keep my distance, and why I constantly remind him that I feel that way. Each time he smiles, shakes his head and tells me not to be ridiculous. One of these days I might actually believe him.

I press her name and hold my breath through the three rings it takes her to answer. I never really call anyone anymore, so this is kind of weird, but I've been out of my element for about a month now, so I suppose I should get used to it.

She answers with a standard hello.

"Hey, Layla, it's Brooklyn Black, Harrison's friend...?" It comes off sounding like a question and I immediately slap myself in the forehead.

"Hey!" I can hear the smile in her tone. "I take it you found Sophie's note. I was hoping you'd call,"

"Yeah. She's sneaky. And adorable," I smile. I guess this isn't as awkward as I thought it might be.

"She had me write it last week at my parents' house so she'd have it all ready for this morning. That girl is a thinker, no doubt," she pauses and I don't fill in the gap with words, so she continues. "So you're going to go, right?" she's so full of energy it sucks the nervousness right out of me. "Harrison told me you kind of keep to yourself, but you gotta go, Brook,"