LOVE EVENTUALLY

Chapter One

Raelynn

The first time I fell in love with Asrael Kerrigan, I was ten years old and he bandaged my knee with a Spider-Man band-aid. It had little red webs on it. I remember that because he apologized three times for accidentally putting the sticky side of the tape on my skin and Rhett laughed so hard milk came out of his nose.

“Asrael,” my brother had wheezed from across the kitchen table, “you’re treating her like she got stabbed.”

“She’s bleeding.”

“It’s a scrape.”

“She’s crying.”

“I am not crying,” I’d sniffled immediately before crying harder.

Asrael had looked at me then. Really looked at me. Not like I was annoying or dramatic or just Rhett’s little sister tagging along behind them. And he smiled.

Not a big smile. Not even a special one. But to an eight-year-old girl, it felt like being handed sunlight. So naturally, my life had been downhill ever since.

At fifteen, I knew better. At least, I was supposed to. I was old enough to know that twenty-year-old college boys did not suddenly realize they were in love with their best friend’s little sister because she curled her hair and wore cherry lip gloss from the pharmacy downtown.

Unfortunately, my brain and my heart had been divorced for years.

“Rae!”

Rhett’s voice thundered through the house like a natural disaster in sneakers.

I jumped, nearly smudging mascara into my eye.

“What?”

“Hurry up! People are here!”

“I’m coming!”

“You said that twenty minutes ago!”

I glared at the bathroom mirror. The girl glaring back looked older tonight somehow. Still soft-faced. Still obviously fifteen if anyone looked long enough. But older in the fragile, hopeful way flowers looked right before rain flattened them.

Pathetic.

I grabbed my lip gloss anyway.

Music rattled the walls downstairs. Loud bass. Bursts of laughter. The house smelled like pizza, beer, and the cinnamon candles my mother would murder Rhett for lighting near drunk college students.

By the time I reached the living room, the party was already alive. Bodies crowded the furniture. Someone yelled from the kitchen. A girl in a glittery silver top was dancing barefoot near the couch. A couple was making out at some corner. I swear if mom found out Rhett and I would both be dead.

Rhett stood near the drinks table laughing with two of his teammates. And beside him stood Asrael. My stomach betrayed me instantly. Five years later and I would still remember stupid details like, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, the silver watch on his wrist, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead when he laughed Some girls fell in love through poetry or grand gestures. I fell in love through accumulated fragments.

Asrael looked up. Then smiled the second he saw me.

“There’s the shadow.”

Heat climbed straight into my face. I hated that nickname. Mostly because I loved it.

“When have I ever followed you around?” I asked.

Rhett barked out a laugh loud enough to concern nearby wildlife.

Asrael tilted his head thoughtfully. “Fifth grade. seventh grade. eighth grade. The zoo incident of sixth grade.”

“That monkey stole my juice because of you.”

“You screamed like the apocalypse started.”

“I was ten!”

“You cried.”

“I did not cry.”

Rhett snorted into his drink. “You absolutely cried.”

Traitors. Both of them.

Asrael reached over without thinking and flicked my forehead lightly. The gesture was easy. Familiar. Careless. My heart, unfortunately, treated it like a religious experience.

“Move,” Rhett said, shoving a bowl of chips into my hands. “Be useful.”

“Wow. You’re such a loving brother.”

“I kept you alive through childhood.”

“You once fed me glue.”

“You survived.”

Before I could argue further, somebody shouted from the center of the room.

“CONFESSION GAME!”

A chorus of drunken approval erupted immediately.

“Oh no,” Rhett muttered.

“Oh yes,” said a blond girl already climbing onto the coffee table with alarming confidence. “Everybody circles up!”

The living room transformed quickly. People dragged pillows onto the floor. Someone lowered the music. Half-empty cups littered the table like casualties of war.

I ended up squeezed between Rhett and Asrael on the carpet.

Terrible for my emotional stability.

The rules were simple. Pick a card. Answer honestly. No skipping. Which was exactly the kind of game that sounded fun until human beings got involved. The first few rounds were harmless.

“Who was your worst kiss?”

“What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk?”

“Have you ever cheated on someone?”

Laughter exploded every few seconds.

Rhett admitted to accidentally texting a professor “love you.”

A girl confessed she dated identical twins without either realizing.

Someone else cried laughing after revealing they once threw up in a decorative vase at a wedding.

Then the bowl landed in front of me.

“Oh, this should be good,” Rhett said.

“Leave me alone.”

“Never.”

I reached into the bowl dramatically, mostly to hide how nervous I suddenly felt. The card unfolded between my fingers. And my soul immediately left my body.

Confess your biggest romantic secret.

No.

Absolutely not. I should have lied. A normal person would’ve lied. But the room was warm and loud and Asrael sat beside me smelling faintly like cedarwood and rain and my stupid fifteen-year-old heart had spent years collecting courage like spare coins in a jar. Maybe tonight was finally enough.

“Well?” somebody urged.

My pulse thundered.

Rhett nudged my shoulder. “C’mon, Rae.”

I looked down at the card again.

Then slowly up. Straight at Asrael. The room blurred strangely around the edges. I wish I could’ve fainted there and then.

“I…” My throat tightened instantly. “I like someone.”

Instant chaos.

“Ooooooh!”

“Who is it?”

“Name!”

“Tell us!”

I should’ve stopped there.

I knew I should’ve. But years of hidden feelings pressed against my ribs so hard they hurt. And for a moment, I wanted him to know. Not eventually. Not someday. Now. My fingers curled tightly around the card.

“It’s…” I swallowed. “Asrael.”

Silence hit the room like a dropped glass.

Rhett blinked once. Twice. Then burst into violent laughter. Not cruel laughter. Worse. Disbelieving laughter.

“Oh my God,” he wheezed. “Rae has a crush.”

My face burned alive. Some people laughed softly. Others cooed sympathetically. Asrael stared at me in startled surprise before smiling. Softly. Fondly. Like I was something adorable. Something small. Something harmless. He reached over and ruffled my hair.

“You’re cute,” he said lightly.

Cute. Not beautiful. Not serious. Cute.

The room relaxed instantly after that. The tension dissolved into teasing and laughter and somebody immediately demanded the next turn. But I barely heard any of it. Because fifteen-year-old girls are tragic little creatures. We can survive humiliation surprisingly well. It’s hope that destroys us. And even then, even sitting there with my chest cracking quietly open beneath all the noise and laughter, one horrible thought still floated through my mind. At least he didn’t say no.

After the party ended, Asrael stayed and help Rhett and I to clean up. Before mom came and found her house looking like some barn.

“You look depressed,” Asrael said as he threw a pillow at me.

“Jee, thanks.”

He walked up to me and he looked genuinely concerned. Oh My God! My heart was pounding. Heck! I think it was on its way to my head. The pulse was so loud I could feel it in my ears. Then he got closer. Welp!

He gently cupped my cheeks and titled my head so that I could look at him.

“Are you okay?” He looked more worried.

“You’re heating up.”

Of course I was. His hands were on my cheeks and he was so close I could feel him breathing.

“What’s with her,” Rhett interrupted.

“She seems to have a fever.”

“Let me see,” Rhett said as he walked towards us.

Asrael moved aside and Rhett literally slapped my forehead.

“Owww! That hurt.” I pushed his hand away.

“You’re such a cry baby,” Rhett teased.

Mom walked in to us arguing as usual. She immediately turned to Rhett.

“Rhett, be nice.”