Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)

61

After Luke got us a room, I followed him into the elevator and then to the end of a hallway with my head down.

When we got into the hotel room, neither of us had anything to unpack, so we both awkwardly found something to do. I don't think either of us had really processed enough to have a real conversation about what was going on. After a couple of minutes, I noticed we were on a pretty high floor, so I went out to the balcony and leaned against the railing for a long time. It was bright outside but very gray, and a chilled wind sweeping by ensured that I was the only one who would be out on the hotel balconies for the time being.

For a while, I swept the sights below me in silence. My community college was visible a couple of blocks away. I could also see the grocery stores I used to go to, the bowling alley I had worked at for a while, and the trails I used to walk on when I worked up the nerve to risk the slight possibility of seeing my dad. All the memories of what felt like so long ago but were really only a year and a half old buzzed through my head like a swarm of wasps and all I could do was sit there, numb in an overwhelming shock. At least it prevented me from mulling over Travis.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the door slide open and closed again and then felt Luke's presence beside me. He struck a similar pose to mine, arms perched on the railing, hands dangling over the edge. I couldn't tell whether he was looking ahead or at me, but I didn't check.

"Call me crazy, but you and balconies together make me nervous," he said, a bittersweet nostalgia in his tone.

I huffed out a laugh.

"What, because I jumped once you think I'm going to jump every chance I get?" I asked, feeling more sincere than I probably sounded.

"I suppose you could blame it on that minor PTSD," he grinned solemnly, halfheartedly attempting a joke.

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on jumping."

"What scares me is I don't think I could stop you if you really wanted to."

"I don't really want to. You can trust me on that, Luke," I said honestly, moving closer into his side.

"The thing is, when someone jumps- even if they survive... there's always a piece of them that fell and didn't get back up. There's still a piece of you that jumped off my balcony back home to run away from me and that part is still running... isn't it?" He asked.

I glanced at him quickly from the corner of my eye and he cocked his head at me. I cracked my neck both ways and stared out at the city for a while before answering.

"I've trained myself to run my entire life, Luke." A thicker breeze hit us as I said that, almost as if it was emphasizing my words. As the breeze moved the clouds, the sun began to set. "There's not enough peace inside of me for me to ever want to stay in one place for too long. I get scared. You're the only place I've found that has enough peace to share with me. I was running away from things a long time before I tried to run from you... I'm not running from you anymore, and I thought I could maybe settle down... you know, with you and a dog and Travis... but, as he's so clearly proven, shit happens, and that's what makes me feel like I have to keep running before I get too attached to something or someone."

Luke let out a long, heavy exhale and wordlessly placed his arm around me, pulling me into the crook of his side.

"Do I still scare you?" He asked after a long stretch of silence.

"My trust for you scares me," I replied honestly. "I trust you and that scares me because I've trusted the wrong people before. But I do trust you."

Luke sighed, rubbing his thumb over my arm for quite a while.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't regret trusting me," he pledged.

I didn't know how or if I was supposed to respond to that, so, instead of words, I just moved closer to him, trying to transfer all my thoughts to him.

We didn't share any more words. Instead, we both stared at the streets, different memories streaming through both of our heads. Then, once it got dark, we both shifted to look up at the stars coming out. I wondered why people would always compare their loved ones to stars- the stars were so far away. When I looked at Luke, I didn't see a star, I saw oxygen. He was always right there and the only way I could be deprived of it was if I held my breath and personally cut myself off from it. If I could trust the air that I couldn't even see to always be there, I wondered why it had to be so hard for me to trust Luke.