There’s a soft knock on the bedroom door. A sigh slips from my lips and I lift my face from the pillow as I throw daggers with my eyes at whoever is on the other side. I just wanted to be left alone. After having the flight from hell, to having a shit show of a greeting from my lovely brother, I just wanted to go back to sleep and hopefully wake up tomorrow to a better day.
“Come in,” I call out, the defeat heavy in my voice.
I watch the knob as it turns slowly and the door is pushed open. Simon stands on the other side with both of my suitcases. I wince, instantly feeling guilty for the way I acted toward him and what he just witnessed. Part of me wants to tell him to leave them and go. But instead, I motion for him to come in.
Simon wheels both suitcases in and I roll over in the bed before sitting up. My legs hang over the edge and Simon stops in front of me, staring down at me with a look of curiosity in his eyes.
“What was that about with your brother?”
A sigh slips from my lips. “Nothing new. I’m sorry for how much of a bitch I was when you picked me up. I’ve had a hell of a day and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s cool,” Simon says simply with a shrug. “I’m not here to be your punching bag, but you can always talk to me about whatever is going on instead of throwing a tantrum.”
I stare up at him. “Okay… did you come in here to lecture me too? Would you like to take over my brother’s role and monitor me the entire time I’m here?”
“I’m not interested in being like a brother to you, Stella. What would you need to be monitored for anyways?”
“You mean my brother hasn’t complained to you about me?” I question him, venom on my tongue. “Shocker.”
Simon watches me like he’s watching an animal that is about to attack. I wouldn’t blame him if he walked out right now. He has only seen the side I show to the rest of the world. He doesn’t know what I’ve been living up against my entire life.
“As you can imagine, I’ve always been the fuckup, while Sterling was the golden child,” I explain, not sure why I’m telling him my life story like he really cares. “I started drinking in high school and then in college, which is natural. My parents didn’t approve of my behavior and the things I was doing. Neither did my brother, which is why he claims I’m fucking up my life. Little does he know, I haven’t drank in quite some time and am actually on my own personal journey right now.”
Simon tilts his head to the side. “What kind of journey?”
“Self-discovery,” I tell him with conviction. “I started college without an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I know what I want to do now and have declared a major. Now, I’m working on figuring out who I really am. Finding your boyfriend in bed with your best friend will make you reevaluate a lot.”
A shadow passes through Simon’s expression and he stares at me for a moment. “He did what?”
Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Simon’s jaw clenches. “Fine.” He closes his eyes briefly and lets out a deep breath before changing the subject. “Does anyone really have their life figured out at eighteen?”
“Nineteen,” I correct him, scowling as we both ignore the information I just shared. “And probably not, unless your name is Sterling Barrett.”
Simon lets out a harsh laugh. “If he led you guys to believe that he had his life figured out, he definitely had you all fooled. Your brother didn’t really get his shit together until Olivia came into the picture.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe that. “He’s always known he wanted to play hockey and that was his lifelong goal. I never had that because it would never come close to touching the pride my parents have for Sterling.”
“Okay, first of all,” Simon starts as he walks over and drops down onto the bed beside me, “fuck your parents, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Second, hockey was the only thing Sterling had figured out, and nothing more than that. Third, the only person you should be worried about making proud is yourself.”
Falling silent, I stare back at Simon. We’ve always had this flirtatious dynamic between us, but this feels much more intimate. Everything has always been at face value and superficial… this is something deeper. And I don’t like the emotions it’s bringing out inside me.
“Damn, Simon.” I quickly swallow back the emotion and raise my eyebrows at him. “Since when did you become such a wise old man?”
His eyebrows pull together and he shakes his head at me. “Don’t do that, Stella.”
“Do what?” I challenge him, giving him an innocent smile.
“Turn it into some kind of a joke,” he says, his voice quiet and slightly distant. There’s a look in his eyes and it looks very similar to disappointment. “I’m being serious here and I want you to take what I’m saying seriously.”
My stomach sinks at his words. He knows that it’s all a facade. How the hell can he know me so well to know when I’m just brushing things off? I have certain coping mechanisms and turning everything into a joke or a lighthearted moment is one of them. I don’t do well with my emotions and Simon is trying to resurrect them again.
“I know you’re being serious,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t trying to make it a joke, just trying to make it not such a heavy moment.”
Simon falls silent as he stares at me for a second. “What’s wrong with heavy? You tired of carrying the weight, baby girl?”
My breath catches in my throat as his words bounce around in my head. Never mind the fact that he called me a new little pet name—but he hit the nail directly on the head. I am tired of carrying the fucking weight. I’m tired of being the black sheep and feeling like I’m a walking, talking disappointment.
It’s too heavy and it feels like it’s constantly weighing me down.
“Yeah,” I whisper, tearing my gaze from his as I drop it down to my hands that are neatly folded in my lap. “Sometimes it just feels like a lot.”
“I get that,” he says gently. “You don’t have to take on the weight of everything. Fuck them all and their assumptions. Let them have their own thoughts and just prove them wrong. You can’t control how other people react or the way they think. All you can do is control your own feelings and thoughts.”
“I didn’t know you had such a good head on your shoulders, Simon,” I admit, lifting my gaze back to his. “I thought you were just carefree because you didn’t give a shit about anything going on in the world around you. You’ve done a lot of work to get here, haven’t you?”
Now it’s Simon’s turn to feel as uncomfortable as he just made me feel. I’m laying it all out there and holding back no punches. He wanted to call me out on my shit and bring my feelings to the surface, so I’m doing the same to him. Not necessarily for a reaction, but if I have to face a few of my demons, so does he.
The corners of his lips lift upward as he smiles at me. “Let’s just say that I went through a lot of therapy when I was younger. I struggled badly with depression. Thankfully, I was put on medication and got it all straightened out, but to answer your question—yes. I did have to do a lot of internal work and work on my mindset to get where I am now.”
I stare at him with the silence settling around us as I’m taken aback by the way he just admitted that with ease, like it doesn’t even bother him at all. It’s all just fact, part of his story, and he’s more than willing to share that part of his journey with me. Although, he does keep it close to his chest and doesn’t fully reveal all of his cards. There’s something about his past he doesn’t want to tell me, and that’s okay.
I won’t push him for any answers because maybe that shit is too heavy as well.
And Simon doesn’t look like someone to let any amount of weight drag him down.
