“if love is what you need, a soldier I will be”—Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab
Lily
My film directing class started twenty minutes ago. For some reasons my alarm decided not to go off this morning, which now makes me late for class.
A great way to start my Tuesday.
I’ve always hated being late for class. Back in high school, I would skip the entire day if I were late.
The looks when you walk into the classroom too late scream far more than “judgment.” They’re filled with arrogance, like any person that was there on time thinks they’re something better.
People will pay attention to me. Attention that I do not want nor need.
I know the second I open that door and walk inside, people will look at me.
They will look at me and think I’m trouble. They will think that I am some wrack that can’t even set an alarm to be on time.
It shouldn’t even matter to me, not right now, not ever.
I’m late, so I shouldn’t waste any more time thinking about being late. Instead, I should just walk right into the classroom.
Fortunately for me, someone else is late as well.
Unfortunately, that someone is Colin Carter.
He smiles at me as he stands beside me. He looks down at me, grinning like the smug superstar he is. The grin he keeps on his lips is disgustingly charming. He has a beautiful smile, so much can I admit.
“Hey there, Lilybug,” he greets me. “Since when do you have film directing?”
“Since forever. You would know that if you paid more attention to your surroundings, Carter.”
Colin snickers and grabs ahold of the door handle. I inhale a sharp breath. Yup, this is totally going to be the death of me, emotionally.
“You okay?”
Why does he care?
Probably because he wants to make fun of you for wanting to die, I tell myself.
But the real reason shows soon enough.
My breath is out of control. It’s quick, and I feel as though my lungs don’t fill with air. It’s painful. My lungs start to hurt. I’m hyperventilating, aren’t I?
I place my hand over my heart as I stumble backward until my back hits one of the walls. I slide down to the floor. My chest rises and falls so quickly, I can’t even see it. But fuck, it hurts. Every breath hurts and yet I don’t feel the air coming into my lungs.
“Jesus, Lily,” Colin says, a hint of worry sounding through his voice. He approaches me again, kneeling down. He takes my hand in his. “Breathe,” he tells me. No seriously? Thanks. “You’re okay, nothing is going to happen.”
“Would you—” air gets caught in my lungs, but it still doesn’t feel like I have enough oxygen in my body to breathe properly “—shut up.”
The feeling of death is streaming through my veins. Not that it’s something bad. I want to die after all. But not like this. Not at school with superstar Colin Carter watching me.
I feel tears run down my cheeks. Great, now I’m crying in front of the asshole that stole my notebook. Or somehow gave it back to me. Either way, he read it.
My whole body is shaking. My mouth is dry, and I can feel the headache build up. For a moment I’m praying death won’t actually feel this way.
No, Lily. It’s going to be peaceful. Remember that.
Nope, fear takes over my body. Not the fear of death, fear of the pain. I don’t want any more pain, please.
“Lily, try to calm down.” He speaks calmly as he lays my hand down onto his chest. I can feel his chest rise and fall under my palm. He is taking slow and deep breaths that I try to mimic.
His hand covers mine. Our gazes locked as he counts from one to eight, inhaling. Not once does he break the eye contact with me.
We hold our breaths for a short moment, then he counts again as we exhale. Colin is repeating this exercise for a little while until I find it easier to keep up and my body begins to relax.
Only when my body stops shaking does he release my hand. I immediately pull it away from his chest. For the first time, I acknowledge the worry in his eyes.
Is Colin Carter worried about me? Why would he be? He doesn’t even know me.
Despite my body slowly calming down, I still find it hard to breathe, hard to feel the air fill my lungs.
“Thank you,” I mumble weakly.
“Wait here, don’t move, okay?” I nod. Like I was going to do anything else. And just like that, Colin leaves and disappears into Professor Meisner’s classroom.
By the time Colin returns, my breathing is almost back to normal, but I still feel drained and more than exhausted. Every muscle in my body feels sore, like I’ve worked out for hours.
My head is spinning, throbbing in pain. There is no way I will make it through the day without breaking down again.
And that’s just another reason for me to die. My own body hates me. My own body wants me beat down. I can’t fight this any longer.
“We’re partnered up for a project,” Colin informs me. He grabs my hands and helps me up on my feet. “You’re off for the day, Lilybug. No way in hell will I let you attend classes like that.”
I chuckle at his way of phrasing this. “No way in hell,” I repeat to myself, but he hears it. “You do know I will be there soon, right?” I know he knows.
“You won’t.” I’m not sure why he is so convinced of that. “If anything, you will get send straight to heaven for fighting against whatever makes you want to die.”
“Colin,” I say in a whisper. He is still holding me up. I’m glad he is, because I doubt I could stand on my own. My panic attacks aren’t normally this bad, but for some reasons they chose today to intensify. “You know we can’t be partners.”
“None sense, Lilybug.” There it is again, the smug grin of his. “Even if you decide to kill yourself, it will only benefit me.”
“We aim to please, Carter.” I offer him a weak smile. I know he is joking. Well, it would benefit him. When I die, our assignment will automatically be graded with an A. “But there is no ‘even if’ and ‘decide’, Carter. It will happen. I’ve made my mind up already.”
Colin doesn’t respond to that. He walks us out of the building, leading me right toward his car. Of course he owns a Tesla. I knew he was rich. I mean, his father is a hockey coach from the NHL. His family is probably bathing in money.
“I assumed you’d be more into sports cars. Saw you owning an Audi R8, or some Lamborghini.”
Colin snorts, pressing his lips together. “I am. The Tesla is my father’s but I’m in use of it most of the time. My hockey bag barely fits into my BMW, the Tesla has more room for it.”
I nod, suddenly feeling like an ass for assuming, even though I was right after all.
“Got my BMW for my twenty-first birthday, didn’t even buy it myself. I feel like a spoiled frat boy for never using it.”
I grip onto his arm a little tighter, trying to keep myself up.
“Where are you taking me?” I clear my throat. “I live in the dorms.”
“I know, Aaron told me. But you’re coming with me.” The hell I am. This guy can’t just kidnap me and take me home with him. I’m not one of his puck bunnies.
“Aaron will chop off your head if you touch me,” I say with confidence.
“Aaron will also murder me when I tell him I knew you wanted to kill yourself and I didn’t let him know what was going on with you. So either way, I will die.” He’s not wrong. I can see Aaron throwing Colin out of the house they share because of it. “Gives me a chance to haunt you in the afterlife.”
“Fuck you, Carter.”
“You want to?” He looks at me with lust, I think. No one has ever really looked at me like he does. It’s like he is staring into my soul, but with this desire to undress me. Or he is undressing me already, mentally.
“No thank you.”
“You’re a tease,” he tells me. “Now get in the car.” Colin opens the passenger door for me and helps me inside. It’s not like I need help. Maybe I do. I mean I can’t even stand without feeling like I’m tipping over.
Once I’m seated, Colin closes the door and jogs over to the other side. However, once he’s inside the car, he doesn’t start the engine yet. He just stares at me for a moment as if he’s trying to get me to talk. But I’m not speaking.
He takes the lead. “Do you actually want to die, Lilybug?”
I play with my thumbs, looking out of the window, hoping to come up with words to say. I end up nodding an answer.
There is no way I could explain what he read otherwise. It was as clear as a cleaned window. The words “I want to die” are unmistakable. There is no way anyone could interpret them differently to what they say.
“That’s none of your concern, Colin.”
Colin’s lips form a straight line. He knows he shouldn’t get involved in my business, and I’m sure he regrets every second of him reading what I wrote. But he did. He read it, all of it. I’m sure once he started, he couldn’t stop. And now here he is; stuck with his best friend’s suicidal sister.
I’ve never referred to myself as “suicidal,” though it’s obvious that’s just what I am. A suicidal wreck.
“How come Aaron never mentioned you before?” he asks, changing the topic. Another topic I would gladly stop talking about altogether. Not just with him, with anyone. Aaron and my relationship it nobody’s business.
“There is nothing to mention. We’re friends. I’m sure you, too, have friends you don’t speak of.”
“Sure, but they’re all dudes, mostly. But I don’t care about either of the female ones as much as Aaron cares about you. I mean, Lilybug, he forbids me to touch you. That’s not exactly ‘we’re friends’ kind of behavior.” He is right. It’s not. Aaron is my overprotective, by two minutes older twin brother. But Colin doesn’t know that.
He starts to drive, accepting my lack of enthusiasm to answer his questionnaire about my family tree. Just that he doesn’t start driving toward his house. I know where he lives, and I know how to get there. The direction he’s taking is not the one to go with.
“This is not the way to your house,” I let him know. He snickers. “Where the hell are you taking me?”
“Relax, Lilybug. You’re coming home with me.” What does that mean? His home is in the other direction. “I need to see my sister. And since I can’t leave you by yourself, you’re coming with me.”
“I am not going to meet your family, Colin!” Now I’m furious. Is he sick or something? I won’t meet his family, it’s weird.
“Too bad, you are. My father isn’t home, because he is coaching my hockey team in a bit. My mother is probably at work as well. So it will only be Eira, Reece, you and me.”
“Still. It’s weird.”
“Why would that be? Friends can meet the other’s parents, right? And my siblings aren’t even my parents, so it’s not weird at all.” He is smirking. Thank God he is looking at the road because I know this smirk is to die for. I’ve seen it on pictures and videos on Instagram before, even on the college website.
Colin Carter is everywhere. He takes everyone’s breath away in a heartbeat.
I bet it’s doing his already through the roof ego nothing but good.
The guy that breathes off of other’s breaths.
Good an hour passes and we’re finally in New York City. Well, literally. Not just the state. St. Trewery is located in New City, New York. Our college is actually only a one-and-a-half-hour car drive away from Manhattan.
I have never been here before. Never had the chance to go. Dad always promised that he would take me to Manhattan someday, but we never got to do that. My mother would have somehow figured out where I was at. I couldn’t possibly tell her I was going there with friends. She’s a control freak. She would have asked all of my friends if that was true.
I’m surprised she never questioned my sleepovers back then. Glad she didn’t, still surprised though.
I want to get out of the car as soon as it comes to a halt, but Colin stops me. We haven’t been talking for the majority of the time during the car ride, which is why I’m quite surprised when he chooses now to speak.
“Lilybug,” he says in the softest tone I’ve ever heard him speak in. It’s almost flattering.
Looking at him, I feel as though my breath gets caught in my lungs. It should be illegal to look this good.
I mean, he is probably six foot three. Colin is a tad taller than Aaron, and Aaron is six foot two. My knowledge of Colin’s height is completely based off of my brother’s.
Colin’s hair is long, but not too long. The top half of his hair is rather long and fluffy, the curtain haircut. Truthfully, I was never a fan of this haircut, but it suits him. A lot.
Colin has blue eyes, the color I don’t trust, but for whatever reasons, I could picture him with dark eyes.
Don’t even get me started on his body. He is muscular. I think that’s what most of these hockey players are. Colin’s jawline is literally as sharp as a knife. I’m sure if I touched it, it would cut me, despite it being physically impossible.
On top of that, he looks good in a suit. I’ve seen a couple of pictures before.
Though to be fair, other than the suit, Colin Carter only ever wears black and white, maybe some dark blue if he feels silly. Mostly some black cargo pants and any wider shirt.
The only color I’ve ever seen on him is red. But that also only because of his hockey clothes.
But it suits him. It suits his body, even when his muscles go lost under his baggy shirts.
Colin has quite a few tattoos decorating his arms. I’m not sure, but I would say his chest is tattooed as well. Assuming, because he has a tattoo on his neck going down to his chest, I haven’t actually seen him bare-chested before.
I’m also not really planning on doing that.
Anyway, his seemingly dark and broody appearance doesn’t suit his bubbly personality all too well. Another assumption. I can’t judge his personality yet. For me to be able to do so, I would have to know him a little better. But he seems…okay?
What’s there not to like about Colin Carter? He is pretty damn handsome. And apparently, he even cares about suicidal girls he doesn’t even know one bit.
“I have to warn you of my sister.” It’s always just a couple of words that can bring you back to reality. He sounds serious, sad even, if I’m being honest.
“Why would you have to do that?”
“My sister has been diagnosed with…” he trails off. I can see the gloomy cloud rising over him. “She’s sick at the moment. She has a fever. But that’s not what I have to warn you of.”
The cloud vanishes as fast as it came.
“Eira is talkative and cheerful, way too happy sometimes. I don’t think you would like that much.” Although he doesn’t seem upset anymore, his voice says differently.
Colin may be good with plastering model-like smiles onto his face, but he certainly can’t hide pain in his voice.
“She talks about death a lot. In a good way, like you do,” he tells me. “It’s scary.”
“I don’t think death is scary.”
“It is for everyone that doesn’t want to die.”
“Your sister wants to die?”
There’s a light twitch on his face. Like I just hit some kind of nerve that I should not have.
Why would he phrase his sentence like this when he doesn’t want me thinking this? What else am I supposed to think?
Perhaps he just wants me to talk to another suicidal person in hopes that it will change my mind.
Just like he can hear my actual unspoken question out loud, he answers me. “I took you here because I want you to be here, Lily. Eira isn’t suicidal. She’s just not thinking badly of death.”
I want to ask why he said “everyone that doesn’t want to die” then. It doesn’t make much sense otherwise, maybe it does in some ways. But before I get the chance to ask, he speaks again.
“Just, please don’t talk about death. I really don’t like that topic. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Colin, in case you didn’t notice. I don’t speak about me wanting to die. Neither do I talk about the pain I feel.” I think I said too much. I have never said this out loud, not even to myself. It has always just been on paper.
The pain I feel, four simple words that just make it real.
“I didn’t think you would. I also want you to know that I didn’t take you here to reconsider. Death is off-topic today, for you and Eira.”
I have known Colin for four days. Knew of him before that, but we only started talking on Friday.
Not even that. We had like three conversations. And for some reasons I come to think he is anything but the asshole I imagined he would be.
Colin leads me inside the huge house, or mansion. It’s definitely a mansion. Everything looks so much cleaner than back at my house, although I wouldn’t consider my childhood home “dirty.” Maybe it just appears that way because of the literal marble flooring this house has. It’s so shiny in here, I think I might need sunglasses.
“Don’t worry, not every room looks like this,” Colin utters with a slight chuckle.
This entry way is bigger than my bedroom back at home. Of course I am amazed.
I feel like a celebrity walking the red carpet here. Just without the red carpet and camera flashing.
And without the celebrity status.
Colin gets ahold of my hand, intertwines his fingers with mine and leads me upstairs.
My heart beats a little bit faster as I come to realize that this floor doesn’t just look like I could slip on it. It is a whole ass slipping trap.
But, hey, at least if I do slip, fall down the stairs and die, I would have died on expensive flooring.
“What, you don’t have an elevator?” I tease jokingly.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lilybug. You haven’t seen half of this house.” He squeezes my hand lightly. “Eira is in her room, and this is the fastest way to get there.” There are more ways to get to her room? I’m officially blown away.
Though, I’m wondering why Colin only comes here to see his sister. He mentioned someone named Reece possibly being here. Assuming it’s his brother, why wouldn’t he want to see him?
Colin leads me down the hall once we reach the first floor. He doesn’t even give me a second to breathe. And I really need that intake of oxygen.
He approaches a white door, lets out a heavy sigh before magically throwing a smile onto his face and opens the door. And for some reasons he is still holding onto my hand.
His grip tightens even, as though he’s nervous. Kind of like he could use some more comfort than I do from my panic attack earlier.
Why is he acting like this?
“Sweet chicken nuggets, COLIN!” A brunette girl screams in excitement. She looks just like Colin, that I have to admit. Eira is utterly stunning.
She holds her arms out for him, and finally, he releases my hand and walks right over to his sister’s bed. He picks her up, twirling her around a couple of times before laying her back down. She giggles. It’s an adorable giggle she has.
I feel totally out of place. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t even know this girl. Colin took me here without asking if that was okay with me.
It is not okay with me. This is his family. I shouldn’t meet his family. I’m not his girlfriend, and I’m sure that’s one of the first questions we will get asked by his family members.
It always is.
“Colin.” Eira inhales a sharp breath. “¡Dios mío! Is that a girlfriend?” She asks all excitedly, pointing at me. Called it.
I press my lips together into a thin line, trying my best not to roll my eyes. I’d die before I’d ever develop feelings for Colin Carter.
When Colin’s eyes meet mine, there is something odd in his gaze. Like he is trying to tell me that he has to lie to his sister for her own good.
Or maybe I’m over analyzing it and he just knows that I won’t ever have another boyfriend.
He looks at me with sympathy, just like he does a lot of times when he lays his eyes on me.
If I were to answer, I would say no. I would tell her the truth. And maybe she should know nothing but the truth.
When the opposite words of mine leave Colin’s mouth—“She is”—a sudden rush of anger bolts through me like fire, burning on my skin.
Colin Carter is as much of a liar as I am. Just that I lie about my happiness, and he lies to his sister about his relationship status.
But when Eira lets out an almost to unbearable shrill shrieks. I start to believe she wishes for him to be in a relationship. For whatever reasons that might be.
Even if she wishes for Colin to be in a happy relationship, he shouldn’t lie about it. Colin and I are neither happy together, nor in a relationship.
“Don’t just stand there. Come over here,” Eira says to me. She is so energetic, I can barely wrap my head around it. But I suppose Colin did warn me about it.
With as much as respect I could say this, Eira looks awful. She is pale and looks like she would break any second. She is still beautiful with no doubt. But her, what I assume is a flu that she has, clearly rules over her body, and it shows. Yet, she still has energy left to be happy and cheerful.
I admire that about her.
As she wished, I walk over to her bed and take a seat on it. The space right next to Colin will have to do. And if it couldn’t get any worse, Colin takes my hand in his once again, stroking his thump over the back of it.
“Tell me everything about you,” Eira demands. She wears a huge grin on her lips. It’s the same one Colin shows most of the time.
Eira is such a copy of him, which makes me wonder what their mother looks like.
I know for a fact that Colin doesn’t look much like his father. Sure, he has some features, like the same nose, same hair color. I’m not sure if he got the eye color from his father though. To be fair, I don’t pay much attention to the new hockey coach.
“I wouldn’t know what to tell you,” I reply in all honesty. It’s the truth. Even if I wanted to open up to her, I wouldn’t know what to say.
“What’s your name? Let’s start there.”
Colin chuckles at his sister’s eagerness.
“Well,” I begin, “my name is Lily.” This is awkward.
“I love it. I’m Eira, but I’m sure Colin has mentioned that before.” He has, but I don’t say that out loud. I prefer to let her do the talking. “When did you two meet? Are you also a senior at Trewery? Do you have a favorite color? What’s your favorite animal? Do you like hockey?”
Why is she asking so many questions?
Since my brain consists of two brain cells in total when it comes to social situations like these, I only remember two questions. “I do like hockey, and I am indeed a senior at St. Trewery.”
To my luck, Eira doesn’t repeat the other questions she asked before and just moves on.
I listen to Eira babble about literally everything and nothing at all. For the next thirty minutes, she tells me all about how Colin used to take her skating with him when their mother wasn’t around. She mentions something about their mother never liking the idea of Eira being on the ice because her bones have always been pretty breakable.
Somehow we’re all laughing at that, but I’m not sure why. It’s not necessarily funny.
I also find out that Eira is 16 years old. She spent her birthday at the hospital, it was also the day she decided to go home and spend the rest of her life where she thought she belonged.
I don’t question her words. Teenagers talk a lot of nonsense, I know I did back when I was 16. I figure going with Eira being a bit overdramatic is the safer option.
“Eira?” A voice shouts from down the hall, only moments before a knock appears on the door and it swings open.
“Ay, Colin. I had no idea you were stopping by this early.” A woman, I would assume around forty-five, steps into the room, looking a bit startled. Her hair is blonde, but it’s obvious that it has been bleached before. Okay, it would not be too visible if her roots weren’t dark. I’m assuming she had no time to get a touch-up.
Mrs. Carter has a heavy and distinct accent when she speaks.
“I didn’t know I was coming yet until I was,” Colin says, shrugging with his shoulders.
“Mamá!” Eira does a little excited dance. “This is Lily, Colin’s girlfriend” Just when I think this couldn’t get any worse with the fake-dating scenario, it does.
“¿Novia?” Mrs. Carter is surprised, but I can’t blame her. Colin could never have mentioned me before. And judging by what his mother said, I’m sure he comes to visit quite often. “When did that happen?”
Without opening his mouth, Colin is conveying his mother the message he should have told his sister. And how do I know that Colin is basically telling his mother that he isn’t dating me? She nods and drops the question like she had never even asked it.
I’m unsure of how this is even possible. Does mentally conveying a message require a special bound with the other person? If so, I certainly don’t have this with my mother.
“It’s nice to meet you, Lily.” Mrs. Carter holds her hand out to me. I shake it carefully. She offers me a smile, which I return. Good thing I mastered the fake-smile skill a long time ago. “Are you guys staying for lunch?” she asks Colin.
“We would love to, Mamá,” Colin answers immediately. I’m not even hungry, but I guess that’s on my agenda now.
“Eso es adorable. I will start cooking then. Do you have any allergies I should know of, Lily?”
Humans, I almost blurt out, but I manage to hold myself back. “I don’t, but thank you for asking,” I say, giving Mrs. Carter a sweet smile. “Actually, Mrs. Carter, can I help you cook?”
She seems stunned for a moment, but then a huge grin appears on her lips. They definitely get their smile from her. “I would be delighted.”
“So, what are you getting in exchange for playing Colin’s girlfriend?” Mrs. Carter asks just as we walk into the enormous kitchen.
I chug down a giggle, not wanting to be rude by laughing at her question. My answer would most definitely be “a headache.”
“Nothing. I didn’t even know I was playing his girlfriend up until he declared me as such,” I answer. Figured the truth is always a great way to go.
“I can’t believe this boy sometimes.” I can tell she wants to laugh, but just like I did, she holds it back. “Colin never brought someone home with him.” Just great. Now there are expectations.
“Really?” I do hope I don’t sound disinterested.
“Really. I never thought he ever would. Figured hockey would always be more important than meeting someone.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Colin and I are just friends, and I am not sure there would ever be anything more between us,” I tell her. I mean, I can’t possibly tell her that Colin and I would never be a thing because I will be dead in the next ten days. But regardless of my death, I don’t think I’m Colin’s type. And without my unalive journey 101 we would have never even gotten in touch in the first place.
“He is a good guy, you know.” She rests her hands on the countertop. “I know, every mother says this about their sons”—not mine—“but Colin truly is. He comes to visit Eira every single day. Colin and her were always really close. When she got sick, he even refused to go back to college. He wanted to drop out only so he could be around more.”
That’s weird. It’s just the flu, I assume. Colin never confirmed Eira having the flu. He did say she is sick though, with a fever. It will be over in a few weeks, at most.
And once again I am proving to myself that talking to mothers is not for me. I never know what to say. Especially not to Mrs. Carter.
I offer Mrs. Carter a weak smile. Not because I don’t know what to say, I sure don’t, but because I believe I shouldn’t have anything to say.
“I thought you wanted to start cooking and not tell Lilybug all about your awesome son.” Colin’s voice echoes through the kitchen. He makes his way to the refrigerator, opens it and takes out a small orange juice box.
Correction, he takes out two of them. After closing the refrigerator again, he walks over to me and hands me one of the orange juice boxes. “Hope you like orange juice,” he says with a smile.
“And I thought you were staying with Eira,” his mother replies. She is searching through some cabinets until she finds a pot to fill it with water.
“She got tired and wanted to sleep for a while.”
Mrs. Carter doesn’t say anything to it. I think it’s nothing new for Eira to get tired easily. But even when Mrs. Carter doesn’t say a word, her face speaks for her. She is in pain, but why? There is no way Eira would walk around dancing while having a flu.
“Lily, cariño, would you be so nice and grab me some noodles from the pantry?” If I knew where their pantry was, sure. “Colin can show you where it is.” Seems like Mrs. Carter is great at mind-reading as well.
“Sure.” Just like that, Colin leads me out of the kitchen toward the pantry.
I’m not even surprised to see that everything is so organized in here, with nametags and all the fancy mason jars. They have probably ten to fifteen different kinds of noodles in here, all tagged with their names.
“Now, which ones?” I ask Colin. He laughs like he has no idea either. “Well, I can’t just take spaghetti’s when your mother cooks lasagna.”
“She’s making lasagna?” he asks.
“Not a clue, and that’s what I’m talking about.” Point proven. “Well, she did take out a pot, so I think it won’t be lasagna.”
“Lilybug, I have no idea how to make lasagna. Do you really think I would have given that pot even just one thought?”
“I always thought everyone knew how to make lasagna,” I tell him. All I get in response are a few fast blinks. Like he is trying to make sense out of what I just said. Maybe he feels like I called him stupid. If so, he can gladly feel that way, because I did. “What’s your favorite kind of noodles?”
“I don’t know, Lilybug. The normal ones?”
I’m laughing. I am actually and genuinely laughing. I’m wondering how he does that. It’s like Colin Carter is naturally funny. But what he said wasn’t even meant to be.
Does stupidity come with a clown costume?
“Please tell me you know noodles vary in taste depending on their kind.” But to my horror, he shrugs.
“They all taste the same. They’re all made of the same ingredients, so there is no way they taste differently.” Now it’s my turn to stand there just blinking at him. He can’t be serious, can he?
Not willing to continue this conversation, I decide on Penne noodles. They’re one of the more basic ones, can’t do anything wrong with that. Taking them from the shelf, I walk past Colin and make my way back to the huge kitchen.
Colin follows me, and before I can enter the kitchen, Colin grabs onto my free hand. “Give me two weeks, Reyes.”
“Two weeks for what?”
“To show you that life isn’t as bad as it may seem at the moment.” This can’t be happening right now, can it? “Give me two weeks to show you that there is more to live for, more to be alive for. Give me two weeks to make you fall back in love with life.”
