My Brother's Best Friend

Chapter Nine

It doesn't take us long to find pieces of wood to keep the bonfire going. I can admit that I didn't find a lot of wood, albeit I wasn't really looking for it. I was too busy caught up in my thoughts about Fergie. He has a serious grip on my heart that is clearly nonexistent to him. He does all these little things and creates banter with me, yet he doesn't know how much he affects me. Normally I have control over my feelings, but lately I haven't been able to control much of anything. The scariest feeling is having feelings for someone and not knowing if they reciprocate them back. In my case, I'm sure that he doesn't care for me in the way that I care for him.

Maybe I should stay away from him during this little trip. I know that the heart can possibly grow fonder with distance, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm at the point in my life where I need to get over things that are never going to happen. I come up with these scenarios in my head and pretend like they're actually going to occur one day. It's a sad excuse if you ask me. I don't understand why I can't get over my crush on him. I should start talking to someone and experience more in life. I guess the way to get over an old habit is to take up a new one.

"What's wrong with you? You've been quiet ever since we got back?" Ethan stares at me.

Everyone is outside getting everything ready for the bonfire later on tonight—it's so we won't have to do everything when the time comes. I don't know what we're going to do until then, but I'm sure my fellow friends will think of something brilliant. I can care less what we do, as long as I don't have to be next to Fergie. I don't even know why I'm in my feelings right now. I swear it happens at the most random times.

"Yeah, I'm good." I nod my head.

"Really? 'Cause I don't think you are." He tilts his head to the side.

"I'm good." I repeat.

He doesn't stay near me to watch me wallow in my own self pity. Instead, he removes himself from the conversation and walks elsewhere. Ethan cares about me—I know that he does because we've been friends for such a long time. Sometimes he has the patience to deal with my random moods and other times he does not. I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to be around someone who is being negative either.

I notice that Fergie was looking at the interaction between Ethan and I. I knew it wouldn't be too long before he came over to me, as well. I know I should have walked away as he was walking towards me, but it's like my feet were planted on the ground. Now he's in front of me and my heart starts doing that thing where it nearly beats out of my chest.

"You okay?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Why does everybody keep asking me that!?" I flail my arms in the air. "I'm okay."

"Clearly, you're not. I was just being cordial." He frowns.

"Just stuff." I sigh. "Sorry."

"Stuff like what?" He looks at me, and I mean really looks at me. I don't know if I like it or want to coward away.

"It's that time of the month." I lie.

"Oh." He nods his head. "Come on."

"What?" I look at him with a puzzled face expression.

"We'll be back, guys." He says to the group and looks at me again. "Just come on."

I follow him as he walks into the cabin and into the kitchen. He orders for me to sit down and I watch him as he rummages through the cabinets. I don't know what he has up his sleeve. Fergie is always up to something, whether it be good or bad. He's like a man on several missions, not just one. He grabs a coffee mug out of the cabinet and a tea packet. He runs the faucet water for a minute, before filling the mug up and placing it into the microwave. He's making me a cup of tea. That's so cute, I think to myself. I feel kind of bad because I lied about being on my period. However, what girl doesn't want the guy she likes to take care of her around that time of the month? I feel so bad. Tamara would be cheering me on right now. She wouldn't feel bad about it.

He takes the mug out of the microwave and dips the tea packet into it. Then, he grabs some honey out of the cabinet and pours a few droplets into the tea. He mixes it all together and even blows the warm liquid to cool it down a bit. He places the mug in front of me with such pride on his face, as if the cup of tea is a work of art.

"I hope it makes you feel better. I know your stomach hurts whenever you're on." He says and it makes my stomach fill with butterflies.

I don't deserve you, Fergie. You're such a good person.

"Thanks." I smile, taking a sip of the tea.

"You didn't bring any pain pills with you?" He asks. "Want me to go get it?"

"You've done enough, Fergie." I laugh. "But thanks."

"Just tryna make sure you're good."

"I'm good now." I giggle.

"You know, I—never mind." He starts to say something, but then he shuts his mouth. Just like that.

And it leaves me on the edge. I really want to know what he has to say, and I know he isn't going to say it after shutting his mouth—no matter how much I ask him about it. It leaves an awkward silence between the two of us, which is weird, because we barely ever experience awkward silences. It has always just been a comfortable silence, never awkward. If something didn't change the day he walked in on me in the bathroom, then something is definitely changing now.

"What?" I ask, even though I know it's a long shot.

"Nothing." He shakes his head and smiles down at the ground. "I'm gonna go back outside and set up for the bonfire. I hope you feel better, though."

He walks past me ever so slowly, placing his warm hand on my forearm. Even though the contact is short, it feels so much longer. The feeling of his skin on mine ignites every nerve in my body. It makes me want to tell him everything I've been holding in, every emotion and craved touch. Alas, I know it'll never happen, so I sit back and sigh as he exits the cabin.

•••

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