Chapter 29: The Fuzzy Gray Blanket

My bedroom door is thrown open.

"You need to-Jesus, Nathan, it looks like a tornado ripped through here!" Peyton snaps.

I ignore her. Maybe if I pretend I'm asleep she will leave me alone.

I know this room looks horrible. There's clothing strewn all over the floor, shards of glass, and pieces of drywall. It's dark because the light bulb to my ceiling went out months ago and I've just been using the lamp.

"Whatever." She says. "I know you're not sleeping, Nathan." She says. "Get up!" She stumbles over some clothes and shakes me roughly. I sit up, angry. The light seeping into the bedroom from the hall pisses me off.

"Dude, you have to go talk to Odeletta." Gabe says in the doorway.

Peyton grabs my wrist and drags me into the living room. Harper is still here. She's wearing a coat. Nights in Colorado can get chilly, in the high to mid fifties. Sometimes they can drop to the high forties.

"What do you want?" I bark at my family, all of them glaring at me. The only one I'm not related to by blood is Harper and Mason, but Mason might as well be family.

"Dude, it's eleven at night." Julian says. "And she's outside."

"Who?" I ask.

"Odeletta." Harper hisses. "I went to leave and she's sitting on the stairs in a tank top and shorts and she's crying!"

I shut the door in her face four hours ago.

"She's still outside?" I ask.

"Yes!" Harper snaps. "I went to go home and saw her. She's crying, Nathan, and she really doesn't know what she did. She came to you to solve it and you're being immature. She's sobbing now because she knows I came in here to yell at you."

Thinking about Odette sitting on the stairs crying and shivering makes my heart ache.

Without a word, I reach down and grab the gray fuzzy throw blanket off of my younger cousin.

"Hey!" He snaps. I ignore him and go outside, looking down the hall. She's there alright, sitting on the second step from the top, her arms on her legs and her head against them. Her shoulders shake as she cries, mixed with shivers from the cold, and I feel my heart flood with guilt. Silently, I walk over to her, draping the blanket over her shoulders. She doesn't look up. I sit down next to her, resting my elbows on my knees, my arms resting on top of each over. I look at her.

The night air is cold and it seems like tonight is one of those low forties nights.

I feel guilty. I knew what I was getting into when I asked her out. I knew she was going to piss me off, and I was okay with it. I accepted it, but the way I acted to her pissing me off is what makes me angrier.

I feel my heart aching as I watch her cry.

"Mon Amour." I murmur.

It's like my words make her break what little self control she had left. She starts crying harder than a child who scraped their knee after falling off their bike, or a hungry infant.

I scoot closer to her, putting my left arm around her shoulders, pulling her chilled body to my chest.

"No, baby." I mumble. She turns her head so it's against my chest. Her arms are wet with tears. She raises her left hand to clutch my shirt in her fist. I rub her shoulder through the blanket, pulling it back up when it slips off her body. I press a soft kiss to her head, my heart aching because I know she's not really mine right now. She broke up with me.

I'm angry again, but this time, it's at myself. I did this. I made her cry like this. She was talking in French all the time because I asked her to teach me. When she tried to teach me the normal way, I didn't pay attention.

"I am so sorry, baby girl." I whisper. "I'm sorry, Mon Amour. I'm so sorry."

I hold her until she's done crying, and then I keep holding her.

We sit in silence now, her head against my chest, her hand clutching my shirt. I find myself starting in to get tired, really tired.

"Nathan." She mumbles. I start rubbing her arm again.

"Hmm?" I hum. She sniffles and pulls her head off of my shirt to look at me, releasing my shirt in her hands. Her eyes are swollen and red, her cheeks covered in pink splotches. Her eyes are still wet. My eyes search hers for a long time, and finally, she speaks.

"What did I do wrong?" She whispers.

I take a slow, deep breath.

"I was mad." I whisper. "Because I missed you. I don't want you to think I'm...racist over French people or something...I love French people, especially you. Your accent is sexy and so is your language, but I don't know it, and if you talk it all the time, then I can't talk to you. It's been weeks, basically since we got back from Ohio, and I have hardly been alone with you. I miss you, Odette. I miss you so much. I was mad because I missed you and I couldn't talk to you. I shouldn't have shouted at you, but I was mad, and I didn't know what you were saying...and then I shut the door in your face because I was pissed off. I was being a dick, Odeletta. I'm so sorry, Mon Amour."

She looks down at her hands.

"I..." she swallows. "I have a tendency to overreact-"

"You got that right."

She shoots me a flat look, but then she lets out a small chuckle and sighs.

"I should have come in and calmly asked what was wrong, but I was mad because the guys knew something was wrong and you didn't tell me something was wrong. If I had not stormed in and started shouting, this could have been avoided."

I decide since we're talking, I might as well tell her everything.

"I was mad too because..." I press my lips together. "I was mad afterwards because I feel like you never invite me over. I invite you over, I take you on dates, I do all of it. You know I've never spent the night at your house? I've never even had a drink of water at your house. I just...felt like you took off at every chance. You took off to Ohio because of that Isabella girl, and you took off today. I was angry because I felt like it's a...it's a one sided relationship."

She looks down and I see her eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, Nathan. I'm so sorry." Her voice cracks and she puts her hand over her mouth.

"It's okay, Mon Amour."

"I am not..." she swallows. "I didn't get to see what love was." She whispers. "I am learning still."

"I know, amour. I know."

She shivers.

"Let's go inside, yes?" She sniffles and then nods. "Did you eat dinner?" She shakes her head. "Well we have leftover pizza."

I stand up and hold my hand down to her, wincing when she takes it.

She notices and frowns, picking up my right hand.

"Why did you wince?" She asks, inspecting my knuckles. I shrug, putting my right arm around around her shoulders. She clutches the blanket to her body as I walk her to the door. I open it, making every conversation in the room fall short. She walks in first, waiting for me, and then I walk in, shutting the door.

"Are you done with that blanket?" Jackson asks. I flick his forehead.

"She's cold." I say.

He grunts in response, laying back down.

I guide her to the kitchen and fish out the pizza box. She gets a paper plate and puts it on there cold. When she's done with the box, I put it back in the fridge. She looks at me.

"Um..." she picks at the crust. "Does this mean our relationship is reinstated?"

"It was never uninstated." I decide. I kiss her temple. "Do you want a beer?"

She grimaces and shakes her head.

"I had two and a half before I came here."

"Did you drive?" I question. She presses her lips together. "You drove drunk! On a motorcycle?"

"I wasn't drunk." She mumbles. "I was on the verge of tipsy."

"On a motorcycle?" I ask.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles.

I sigh slowly.

"That's even more dangerous than a car." I say.

"I'm sorry." She repeats.

"Don't do it again. Please?"

She nods her head.

I sit with her while she eats, watching her with her puffy eyes.

When she's done, she goes into the bathroom.

The moment she's out of earshot, everyone looks at me expectantly.

"What?" I ask.

"Well?" Peyton asks.

"Well what?"

"Come on Nate, I lost a blanket over this. Are you guys okay again?"

"What? We're fine." I say.

"But-" Julian cuts off when Odeletta comes out of the bathroom, rubbing her eyes.

"I am tired." She says. I look at the time.

12:54AM

"Do you work tomorrow?" I ask. She nods. "You can spend the night." I say. "It's cold and you're not dressed to ride your bike. You can stay the night and leave in the morning."

"Okay." She says. I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against my chest. I press a kiss to her temple.

"I love you, Mon Amour." I murmur. I have no trouble saying it in front of everyone. I'll say it on a stage in front of every single person in the world.

"I love you too, Beau." She mumbles. She looks up at me and I know she's waiting for a kiss. I lean down and softly kiss her, only letting it last a moment before I start guiding her to the bedroom.

_____

"So that's it?" Marcus hisses. I glance at him.

"Yes." I say, shifting the stack of papers and putting them in the filing cabinet.

He works with me at the psychology office. He's studying it too, at the same college I am. He's really funny and a great guy whom I talk to every day.

"So she broke up with you? Just like that?" He presses.

I go on to explain the rest of the events of yesterday to him, and then I lean against the filing cabinet with a sigh.

"And then we went to bed, and I still feel like a dick. I mean, I left her out in the cold like that." I press my lips together and shake my head. "And I haven't seen her since. When I woke up she was already gone. She hasn't texted me and I texted her to have a good day and that I love her but I think she's still mad. Dude, I really fucked up."

Marcus sighs.

"On a scale of one to incredible, how hot is she?"

"She's incredible." I say. He nods to himself. "And she's French."

"Right, you said that. A hot French girl? Who loves you?"

"Who has a bad attitude that I love very much." I mumble.

"Nate, it's not only your fault, okay? She jumped to conclusions. She freaked out. She-"

"I freaked out!" I exclaim. "I punched a hole in the wall, broke a lamp, and threw my shit all over my bedroom. She freaked out by screaming at me. I-"

"You knew taking your anger out on her wouldn't have ended up right. You were pissed but you didn't take it out on her."

"I don't even want to talk about this anymore, Marcus. I miss her. I miss her so much. It's like we're drifting apart and I'm scared to lose her."

He sighs slowly.

"I don't think you're going to-woah." His voice sounds breathy now, and he's looking out the door. "Look at that hot babe. She is hot!"

I don't even bother looking.

"Dude, this girl is coming from work. She's got a loose black dress and beige heels and she's hot."

"Marcus, I have my own hot babe." I grumble, picking up another stack of folders. "Who I'm going to lose if you don't pay attention to me."

"She's coming over here." He hisses. "She's coming over here!" He starts hitting my arm, excited.

When he stops, I turn around.

I don't care about hot girls, but Marcus is practically clawing my arm off to look at this chick.

When I turn around, my eyebrows raise.

Hot indeed. She is very hot, with curly brown hair and her loose black dress and beige heels, she makes my palms start sweating.

"Odeletta." I say, looking her up and down. She's so attractive. She's standing in the doorway to the small office, looking around nervously.

She shifting her stance, messing with her fingers.

"Um..." she bites her lip. "That lady said that I can find you here." She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye.

I lean back against the table, my arms folding over my chest.

Her eyes linger on me for a moment. I have on a maroon button down and black slacks.

"Odette, this is my friend Marcus." I say, glancing at Marcus. His jaw is slack. He slams it shut and I can hear his teeth press together. He clears his throat. "Marcus, this is my girlfriend, Odeletta."

He looks at me, his eyes wide, and then at Odette, sticking his hand out.

"It's wonderful to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"It's wonderful to meet you too." She says, shaking his hand.

She's acting weird today. She looks really frustrated and upset. I study her for a moment.

"Uh..." she coughs awkwardly and then points behind her. "I'll just um...I'm gonna go."

"Wait." I say. "Why'd you come?"

She just looks at me. The guilty look on her face is the same one that describes how I was feeling.

"I'm gonna go." she says quietly.

"Mom Amour." I say softly. "Come here."

She looks hesitant, her eyes studying me, and then she shakes her head.

"I have to get back to work."

"So you came all the way here to look at him and now you're leaving?" Marcus asks.

The look on her face tells me yes. That's exactly why she came.

I sigh slowly.

"Odeletta," I begin. She just shakes her head and walks out.

"What's Mon Amour?" Marcus questions.

"My love." I mutter, shoving my hands in the pockets of my slacks.

He raises his eyebrows at me, and then he smirks.

"You guys are going to get married."