Crash Into Me | ✓

eleven

I woke up the next morning, still without a text or explanation from Brooklyn. Nikki meandered into my room around 11 and sat cross-legged at the foot of my bed, furiously scrolling through her phone.

"I cannot believe he doesn't have one social media account!" She groaned. "I can't even find a god damn Instagram! Like, who doesn't have Instagram?"

"I guess he doesn't," I replied with an eye roll. "Why do you care so much, anyway?"

"Because I need the low down on who my sister is dating," she said flippantly. "I need to know where he went to preschool, who his best friends are, identify the thirsty hoes that comment on his photos...you know, the standard stuff."

I groaned in response and hit her with one of my pillows. "Reality check, please. We're not dating. We're just friends."

"Oh sure, just friends cuddle and watch movies and fall asleep together," Nikki gave me a coy grin and wiggled her fingers.

Despite the scare in the hospital the other day, it was back to overly dramatic business as usual for Nikki. Sometimes I wondered why I told her anything, and then I remember she was really the only person I had to tell things to.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," I insisted. "I was comfortable, and the movie kind of sucked-"

"Wait, shush," she cut me off, pressing a finger to her lips. "I think I found something." She sat straight up, and something about her tone unnerved me. Whatever she found, she didn't like.

"I think you should read this," she said warily as she handed me her phone. An old article from ESPN illuminated the screen. The headline in big, bold letters read:

CLEMSON STAR TIGHT END BROOKLYN KELLER DISMISSED FROM TEAM FOLLOWING ARREST AT FRAT PARTY

"I started googling him, since I couldn't find anything on Instagram or Twitter, and that came up."

I heard Nikki's voice, but she sounded far away. My thumbs shook as I skimmed the article. Phrases like underage intoxication and intent to sell or distribute drugs stuck out sharply.

"Did you know?" she asked.

"Did I know what?" I echoed, still completely engrossed in the article.

"Did you know about this?" She grabbed her phone out of my hands and shook it at me.

I still didn't know what had happened with Brooklyn and his dad, but I knew it wasn't good, and I was overcome with an uncomfortable need to protect him, especially from people like Nikki who didn't know him. The real him. I knew there had to be an explanation, and I knew there had to be a good reason why he didn't tell me.

"Oh...uh...yeah," I gave her a quick nod. "Yeah I did. He told me."

"Okay," Nikki recoiled with a shrug. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I know," I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. "And I appreciate that. But I've got it under control. No big deal."

Lying for him felt more comfortable the second time around. Almost too comfortable.

Nikki sighed and flopped back on my bed.

"Anyway, are you sure you don't want to come this weekend? I promise we'll only be there for a few hours. Plus I heard that Diplo is DJing at Red's."