to write down what had actually happened—a roadmap to the truth. Brando was the only soul who could confirm or deny all of the thoughts running rampant through my mind.
The memory of Brando and I, that conversation, was one of my best and also one of my worst. I could never figure out a way to love it without feeling guilty, or hate it and not feel guilty. As much as I wanted his clarity, his truth, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him.
Something had changed in me that night, before the accident, out there in snow. That change should have had a name, but it probably never would, and it rested on my heart like an extra weight. As much as I shunned it, whatever it was, it never left me.
This unnamed thing surged in my veins as well.
You see, after I ran after my brother, I realized something that would irrevocably alter the course of my stars. It hadn’t been my brother who pulled the unusual reaction from me. It was Brando. From that day forward, the humming became a part of me, and now that he was so close…it seemed to sing, to rejoice at his closeness.
Time to walk, Scarlett, a hurt voice, probably coming from the sane part of my mind, seemed to echo inside of my head. Leave it all behind with all those unsettled feelings he left you with. So what if your blood is humming, feeling like champagne bubbles in your veins, and he’s pulling you like a magnet to its home?
“I can’t say that I’m too pleased with you hitting this guy—” I nodded to Guy Down without looking “—but thanks for taking up for me. I should be getting back to my friend.”
Brando nodded, his eyes dark and serious. I couldn’t read his mind, but I could tell by the way he watched me that he wasn’t buying what I sold. I stepped in front of him, truly realizing how imposing his figure was. I was 5’4, and he dwarfed me in both height and build. Clearly over six feet, he had strong arms, a wide chest, and broad shoulders. It didn’t seem like he had worked hard to obtain his physique. He just seemed naturally inclined toward it.
I turned my face from his before he noticed how hard my stare had become. Looking away felt like a lost opportunity. I hadn’t been able to study all of his curves and shapes like my eyes really wanted to. No doubt about it, I had never seen a man as gorgeous as him.
Before I could get too far from temptation, he reached out and grabbed my wrist. A surge of heat seemed to strike up my arm, making the humming even stronger, which in turn made my heart race even faster. My breath felt shallow, hard to catch.
Not able to move, I stopped, my back to him. If I turned around, I would say something stupid, or ask a question that I might not want the answer to.
“Scarlett,” his voice drifted out soft, almost mesmerizing.
I swallowed the untamed emotions down, choking back the tears. “That night…the night it snowed, I didn’t remember you. God knows I tried. I mean, I didn’t remember you being around Elliott. But after I went home, before he…I looked in his room. You were there with him, in all of his memories, even though I couldn’t remember you being there. It was my mother, wasn’t it?”
It took him a moment to answer. “Long story.”
It was hard to understand my reasoning, why I had asked him that particular question when the list was so long. Perhaps it was the need for confirmation—that out of all Elliott’s friends, Brando was the one that I knew, like me, would never forget him. He would hurt, just as much as I perpetually would. I needed confirmation that the bond they shared had been real.
Perhaps a part of me wanted to believe that he had not sought me out because of circumstances neither of us had control over.
One of the hardest things to do was turn and walk away from him. But I did. The reminder of his absence in my life gave me the strength to push forward and find a seat around the fire on a wooden crate. If I was being totally honest, standing was not an option at this point.
My skin tingled where he had touched me. I rubbed my wrist, staring into the distance, trying to keep