Page 106 of Dream House
I’m still mopping my face when my phone rings. Rattled and worried it’s Tyler changing his mind, I answer before reading the screen.
“H-Hello?”
“Stella?”
It’s not my brother. It’s Lark.
I sniffle and sit up straight. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” he asks, concern overtaking his voice. “You don’t sound right.”
“Oh—” I clear my throat and fan my face with my free hand. As if he can see me. Ridiculous. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”
“Babe, are you crying?” His question and the way he saysBabegrip me deep in my middle. It makes me feel like… like I’mprecious.
And, wow.Wow.
I try on the feeling, tingling and new.
I mean, I know it’s probably just me and how raw I feel right now and him calling at this exact moment. But I know I’m not the kind of person someone else considersprecious.
Still, this feeling—even misinterpreted—is damn good.
“Um… maybe,” I say, answering his question when I can finally speak. “Just a little.”
“What’s wrong?”
And there it is again, another rush of that liquid gold emotion. His voice is so soft it turns my blood to honey.
I swallow and try to shake it off. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” And this is true. I smile, thinking of Tyler’s triumph. “Happy tears.”
“Oh…Oh,”and I can hear the grin in his teasing voice. “I knew last night was good, but I didn’t think—”
I burst out laughing.
“Hey,” he says with mock offense. “I didn’t mean for it to bethatfunny.”
I ignore his statement about last night being good.Goodisn’t even in the same time zone.Goodis the intensity of the sun at dawn and last night was high fucking noon.
“I’m feeling a little emotional. Tyler took a big step this morning.”
“Oh?” Lark sounds interested. Invested. This, too, does funny things to my insides. I have to ignore that as well.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Can’t wait.” He’s smiling. I can totally picture it. I smile too. And then I hear a horn honking on his end of the line.
“Where are you?” I ask, frowning.
“Walking to class,” he says, his tone flattening out. “Some asshole just got impatient with those of us in the crosswalk.”
I do not like the thought of some idiot driver harassing Lark in a crosswalk. Fuck him.
“Fuck that guy,” I say out loud.
Lark gives a startled laugh. “Wow. Strong language from such a pretty mouth.”
You know the Snapchat filter with golden butterflies and sparkles? Yeah, that’s me right now.
