Something There

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Six:

"Bryce? What made you do this? Was there a direct cause? The scars look pretty old, so it wasn't your parents, was it?" I ask him, tracing the tattoos on his arm.

We've been laying on the couch for nearly two hours now, and I'm pretty sure I napped through half of it out of sheer exhaustion.

Charlie and my parents still aren't home, meaning that we're balled up together on the sofa still as we watch TV.

Bryce flinches a little as my finger grazes over one of the long scars.

When I look up at his face, he looks miserable, and it makes me immediately stop.

I open my mouth, ready to apologize, but he gives me a small shake of his head. "It's okay," he starts. "I'm just trying to figure out if there was a direct cause. I can't recall one," he then finishes answering, but by the way that he's now avoiding eye contact, I have a feeling that he may be lying to me.

"It's fine. We don't have to talk about it right now," I say quietly, and he gets a small smile on his face.

"Thanks. You really are the best," he tells me, and I strain up to kiss him gently on the top of his nose.

"Hey kiddos. How've you been?" Charlie asks Bryce and I as he strolls into the living room as if he owns the place.

I somehow hadn't even heard him come inside, but he's making his presence very clear as he flops backwards onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the arm rest.

"You're in an awfully good mood right now," I observe, shifting out of Bryce lap and instead sitting on the couch beside him.

He tries to pull me back, but I grab his arm instead, letting it wrap around my shoulder.

"That's because he just got laid," Bryce says with a smirk on my face, talking to me even as he stares at Charlie.

Charlie doesn't look over in our direction, but I know Bryce is right by the way that he crosses his arms tight, his cheeks deepening into a dark shade of pink.

"See? I told you," Bryce breathes, lowering his face down so that his lips are hovering right by my ear.

I push him away, rolling my eyes before picking up my phone to check the time, which reads 5:46, fairly late for me to get my letter from Juilliard at, and I begin to lose hope that I'll even receive anything today.

I start to freak out, wondering if my application and audition didn't go through somehow even though that makes very little sense.

Nonetheless I open up my email, refreshing my inbox for the hundredth time today alone.

An email from Juilliard is at the top of the page.

My hand flies to Bryce's thigh, and his head quickly shoots around so that he can look at me.

My eyes are wide, hands shaking as I open the email up.

"Bryce. I think I got my letter," I say quietly, and he's suddenly holding me closer to
him, head peeking over my shoulder so that he can view the phone screen as well.

My hands are shaking like crazy as I click the link, bringing me to a login page. I notice that my teeth are gnawing into my bottom lip to the point that it's going to draw blood, and nerves are thrumming through me like mad, which is probably why I don't think about it much as I hear the front door open in the distance.

I can barely type in my login because of how badly I'm shaking, and if it wasn't for the way that Bryce's thumb is gently stroking my arm, his chin resting on my shoulder, I probably would be a quivering mess sobbing on the floor right now.