Until I Met You

chapter twenty

Hazel

I intersect with my brother on the first landing. He looks up from the dark hardwood and meets my gaze. If he can tell I've been crying, he doesn't say anything. For a moment, I wonder why, but when he resorts to looking over my shoulder and up the remaining stairs, I understand. His concern lies elsewhere.

"Were you talking to Nova?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes," I reply.

"Is...Is she okay? She kind of just took off." He glances over my shoulder again. "I swear to God, Haze. We were just talking – I don't know what happened."

I rest a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Warren."

He gives me a confused look. "Okay...so what the hell happened?"

I had been hoping I wouldn't run into Warren and twist the information into a complete lie. Lying isn't something that corresponds with my moral compass unless the situation is in dire need of some false information. Nova and Carter's story isn't mine to tell. Although I feel like my brother should have been told the truth from the beginning, I can't say a word to him. Nova is the one who needs to tell him so he can understand the full emotional weight the poor girl carries on her shoulders.

"We went for a run this morning," I say. "After that, we had a pretty busy day. She's tired, Warren. Let her sleep."

Because I've never lied to my brother before, I think he's going to nod and walk away like he usually does. This time, however, he straightens his posture and crosses his arms.

It's at this moment I realize just how much my brother has grown up. Gone are any of the cute babyish looks he used to have, replaced with a much more mature look. His cheekbones are sharp, jaw more defined, facial hair trimmed to a neat stubble, and he's gotten so tall.

"Cut the bullshit," he says sternly. "I know when a girl has been crying. What the hell did she tell you?"

I cast my gaze to the bannister, repressing the urge to cringe under my brother's heated gaze. I wish I could tell him everything Nova said, but that would be an invasion of privacy.

"Warren," I start. "Nova's experienced some personal obstacles that were very jarring for her. I was coming down the stairs, back to the dock, and I think I caught her off-guard. That's the only reason she told me what she did."

He glances up the stairs again. "What did she tell you?"

I suppress a laugh. Are both of them really this blind when it comes to feelings? I can tell by the look on Warren's face that he cares more than a friend would; the concern in his eyes is genuine. Just like Nova's stubbornness is genuine: she has feelings for my brother, but because of the guilt she feels regarding Carter, she pushes Warren away.

"Don't hate me, Warren," I sigh, "but I'm not going to tell you Nova's story. It is hers to tell, and she will tell you when she's ready."

Warren opens his mouth, ready to make an argument that I'm assuming involves reasons as to why I should tell him.

"East was right," I muse, changing the subject.

"About?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"That you really do like Nova Elliot."

My words silence him. He looks down at his bare feet and kicks at an imaginary rock. It's an odd sight to see my brother blushing. He's always been alarmingly confident – I don't think I've ever see him so anxious. But here we are.

"That bastard knows his shit," he mutters. "So what if I like her?"

"Then why don't you ask her out on a date?" I ask, allowing my shoulders to relax. The topics have switched – thankfully.

Warren shakes his head and chuckles. "Please, Haze. You've heard about everything I've done. Nova knows damn well that she deserves someone better than me. She has every right to hate me."

"I think you're overanalyzing the situation," I reply, squeezing his shoulder.

He frowns at me.

"Nova doesn't hate you," I explain. "There are just...there's something from her past that interferes with her view on relationships. Haven't you ever wondered why she's so defensive and never offensive?"

A crease forms between my little brother's eyebrows, and his rubs his jaw with the heel of his hand. Several seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at me in defeat. "Let me guess," he drawls. "Even if I get down on my knees and beg you for answers, you're going to tell me I need to be patient and wait until she's ready, right?"

I punch him lightly in the arm. "Duh."

He's smiling, but I can still see the concern in his eyes. "Seriously, though. Is she okay?"

I nod. "She's gone to bed, so maybe just let her sleep. And please, for the love of God, Warren, don't mention that I even hinted at what happened, okay? She's become a really great friend and I don't want to ruin that."

"Okay," he replies, turning around. We start heading downstairs back to the party. "I won't say anything. I promise."

The problem with being close to your sibling is that you know them well enough to pick out when they're acting and when they're not. Like right now, Warren is trying to act satisfied with my response. But the truth is, he's completely lost in thought about what Nova could have possibly gone through.

I also know that patience has never been a strength for Warren. All I can do is hope that Nova tells him sooner than later. If she doesn't, I have a bad feeling that things aren't going to go very well.