Page 98 of The Storm

For me.

Because I’m about ninety-nine percent sure this is for me. He’s doingthisfor me.

And something inside me shifts. Some final building block clicks into place.

Oh.

Oh shit.

It’s soft and heavy at the same time, this feeling. It settles somewhere behind my ribs and spreads outward.

My chest jolts and tightens.

Nick’s gaze meets mine and heat creeps up the back of my neck.

He smiles, and this one reaches his eyes. It’s soft. For me.

I’m suddenly undeniably aware that I care. About just how much I care. About how absolutely inadequate the word “care” even is to describe how I feel.

It’s less scary than the truth, though.

My heart kicks faster and faster.

It feels a lot like?—

I exhale slowly and try to push the feelings back down. Hide them away for at least a little bit longer.

It doesn’t work.

I’m in love with him.

There it is. The word that fits.

It’s like it has its own gravity, rearranging everything else around it.

And the part that hits me like a rock?

It doesn’t feel like it’s something I want to change.

“Go?” I look at Mom and blink, forced back into reality too fast.

“Yeah?”

She sends me an amused look. “Can you go see where Dia is? We’re about ready to start eating.”

I nod and walk out of the kitchen. In the hallway, I stop for a moment, lean against the wall, and take a deep breath. I can do this. I can be normal. I can pretend I didn’t realize what I just realized. I have to.

I jog up the stairs. The bathroom door is open, so I go and knock on Dia’s door. No reply.

“Dia?” I call out. When there’s still nothing, I open the door. She’s sprawled across the bed, dressed in a pair of shorts, a tank top, and only one sock, clearly dead to the world.

Of course.

I roll my eyes and walk over, then pinch her nostrils shut.

It takes about three seconds. She jerks awake with a violent inhale, swatting at my hand.

She looks around blearily for a bit before her eyes settle on me.