College is the fresh start Mackenna Baker is hoping for, but her past follows her from the small town she left behind like a ghost. She does her best to ignore them and no matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to actually let them go. Shovin...
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Christmas morning comes all too soon two days later. I wake up alone in my own bed much to my disappointment.
Wesley decided it wasn't worth the risk by trying to get me across the yard with the ice no matter how much I protested. He also refused to just sleep in my bed.
I wasn't even talking about sex, just sleep, and he still said no.
Probably because Miles gave him a death glare that I've never seen before.
Like cockblock asshole, even if we weren't gonna do anything.
Last night, my grandma had a Christmas shindig with her friends so I've yet to see her on this trip home. Wesley, my brother and I had a lowkey night here in the house. The PDA between Wesley and I was kept to the bare minimum since we were around my brother and I'm not in a good headspace considering the heaviness of this holiday.
Both of my parents won't be here today.
My dad because he's gone and my mom because she's selfish and doesn't seem to care. I haven't heard from her since she sent me a text on my birthday after I ignored her call, though I did hear a hushed conversation between her and Miles on Thanksgiving I chose to ignore.
Grabbing my extra blanket and tugging it around me, I leave my bedroom and cross the hallway into my brother's room.
His room is a little bit bigger than mine with a smaller closet, his queen sized bed is across from his door, off center from the wall enough to be able to open his closet doors.
I find him on his side, eyes closed like he's sleeping, but if he's like me, he's trying to fall back asleep, praying this day will come and go without us having to leave our bubble. My back hits the empty space beside him and I stare up at the ceiling, fingers fiddling with the tassels at the end of the blanket.
My brother copies my position, silently acknowledging my presence.
"Do you really think he'd be proud of us?" I break the sullenness.
"Yeah, I do," he responds in a hushed tone.
"I miss him Miles," I blubber, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall.
"I know, I do too," he whispers as the tears begin to roll down my face before a choked sob escapes me. "We'll be okay, Mackey," he adds before pulling me into him, tucking my head under his chin.
This is how we spent the first couple weeks, us sleeping in the same bed, whether it was mine or his and we'd hold each other, crying or being quiet, getting sleep when we could.
"Have you gone to see him?" he asks after a few minutes.
"No," I shake my head. "Not since his funeral. You?"
"A couple times," he confesses. "Maybe you should go?"
"I don't know," I whimper.
"You could try and get some closure? Ya know, after all the Wesley stuff?"
