We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 52

20,000 LEAGUES

Alas, it's the last day in paradise. Like all good things, our lusty Caribbean vacation is fast coming to an end. We sail back to Florida tonight. Back to the States. Back to where things are real.

Then the true countdown to the wedding begins. I can't help but want to make the next month last forever. Like once the first of our fucked-up group gets married, it's only a matter of time before everything changes.

I crawl out of bed around 8 AM.

I can tell from the lack of any signs of life, that no one else is awake yet. Meg and Trix are still cozily asleep in the bed when I saunter down the corridor to my state room.

I make a quick pitstop at the spare bathroom to pee out all the alcohol consumed last night and splash some water on my face to erase the smeared glitter and dried sticky tequila. I look passable for alive, even if my hangover begs to differ.

I part the door with careful intention to find Brooks still asleep in our bed. Our once sunscreen and coconut smelling room is now a frat house basement floor. Well, smells like one.

I jump onto the bed and nudge Brooks's bare arm.

"Morning," Brooks says gruffly.

"Mhmm." I plant a quick kiss on his midnight shadow. "Glad to see you made it through the night."

"Not my first time drinking," he says straight-faced. He sits up against the headboard.

"Well no, but do you remember it?" I ask, arms folded. "You did punch your brother."

"I'm sure he deserved it," Brooks replies.

"So," I say, switching subjects. "Last day. Should we talk about our plans?"

The stench of alcohol is rolling off his skin. I can almost smell his lingering bad decisions and poor judgement from last night.

"Future Talk plans?" He asks, tilting his head.

"Maybe," I smirk. "Less European escape and more impending wedding."

"Oh?" Brooks's voice cracks.

"Trix and Travis's wedding," I clarify. "Of course."

"Of course. It's only like five weeks away," Brooks says, distractedly.

"We're going together, right?" I joke.

"Unless you have another plus-one in mind."

"Want to come to Seattle first?" I ask, hopeful.

"Can't," he says, sighing. "Need to hit LA for a press conference. New deals, or something. And then I have some things at home."

He doesn't elaborate, like he never does.

"Home Jersey or home Carolina?"

"Both," he shrugs.

"So you have business in LA, Jersey, and Carolina, but not Seattle," I fake pout. "So guess I'll see you in Florida."

"Deal," Brooks says.

He shifts beneath me and stands from the bed.

"Can't believe it's already 9 AM. Perfect day to sleep in," I say, watching him cross the room and pull on a hoodie.

The sliding door to our deck reveals the swirling clouds outside.

Last day in paradise. I'll even take the clouds.

I grab my coconut balm from the bedside table and apply a generous layer to my morning lips.

"I'll meet you up on deck?" Brooks half asks, half says.

"Unless we just spend the day hidden away down here," I tease, leaning in to kiss him.

Brooks goes to turn away without any response, without even looking at me.

"Wait," I say, reaching for his arm to pull him back to me.

He turns and shakes his head, looking at me.

"What?" I say, noting the dark color of his eyes.

I sit up in the bed and watch him.

"It's nothing," Brooks says, almost fidgeting. He seems oddly annoyed with me or something else, who can say?

"He says when it's clearly something," I try to tease.

"It's nothing. We don't have to talk about it now, Emmy." His sigh is next level.

"Well now we clearly have to talk about it," I press him, folding my arms across my chest.

He sits on the edge of the bed, far enough from me that about ten Holy Ghosts could easily squeeze in the dead space. I instantly brace myself for the possibilities. Before I know it, I'm listing them out loud.

"Is it work? Is it traveling?" I ask, thinking about his business in LA, Jersey, and Carolina. "Is it your dad? Do you wanna talk about where we've moving to?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"That. It's that," he says suddenly.

"Moving?" I frown, confused. "I was only being sarcastic."

"But you weren't," he says. "I mean, maybe you were, but it's still something we would need to talk about."

"Would need to?" I ask him, confused, nothing his inflection.

"We would. We would need to talk about a lot of things. Whenever we talk about the future it's just-"

"Just?" I urge.

"All a joke. No real plans." Brooks says, shaking his head.

"No real plans?" I laugh nervously. "What does that even mean? Where is this coming from, Brooks?"