Across the Pond

Chapter 12

I'm the type of person who hates having to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. I like my routines. I can't stand change when change is not needed, and I value my comfort zones. But being at this party, I'm fully out of my comfort zone.

Trish Eckhart is Nico's age, and while I barely know her, the times that I have bumped into her, she seemed pretty friendly. Remi knows her better than I do because she was Remi's peer leader in high school. On the outside looking in, Trish seems like she has it all: she was the president of her class, just got accepted into Yale, and lives in a beautiful home.

The party is outside in her backyard, and it's a good thing that Trish lives on an enclosed property, otherwise I'm pretty sure that this party would have been raided by the cops the second that it started.

"Let's grab a drink?" Remi asks, and I just nod. We push our way past people that I've never seen before, until an all too familiar face comes into view.

"Am I seeing correctly? This can't be. Bella Cooper at a house party?!" the voice jokes and I can't help but giggle.

"Hi, Brooks," I smile.

Brooks Caldwell. Nico's right-hand man. His best friend since childhood.

Nico and Brooks have been best friends since they were 3. He can be a pain in my ass at times, but he sure knows how to put a smile on my face. Some people consider Brooks to be a douche, but that's just him having his guard up. The girls love him, and how can they not? He's suave with his Ralph-Lauren streetstyle. People always come up to him and ask him if he models for a living. That's how good-looking he is.

He walks up to me and hugs me, lifting me off the ground. "We missed you, B," he says before setting me back down and taking me in. "Damn, you look good. If Nico wasn't basically my brother, I'd have to make moves on you."

This isn't the first time that Brooks has made that kind of comment to me - not the 'I'd have to make moves on you' comment, but the 'if Nico wasn't my brother' one. I've heard it before, and in the beginning, I would take it to mean something more. But I've come to realize that it doesn't. Like Remi, I think there's a part of Brooks that wants to see me with Nico. I mean, the three of us grew up together. Plus, Brooks is fully aware of my feelings for his best friend. We've even had conversations about it. Sometimes, it blows my mind that everyone else can see it but the person himself.

"Don't let Nico stop you," I tease. "Speaking of," I bob my head, "where is he?"

"He was actually looking for you. Asked me if I knew when you were getting here." He nudges my shoulder playfully with his hand. "I can't believe you didn't text me to tell me that you were here."

"Brooks, we spoke about it on the phone last week."

"B, I can't even remember what I did this morning," he jokes. "C'mon," he says, pulling at my arm. "Let's grab a drink and find our boy."

Brooks fist-pumps, handshakes, and man-hugs so many different people in passing.

"Who are these people?" I ask him as we make our way to the bar.

"Couldn't tell you," he says.

Brooks and I take a seat on the high-top stools as some random guy pours us a shot of God knows what.

"To you, B," Brooks holds his shot glass up and toasts. I follow his motion and raise my glass in the air.

"To this summer," I add on before downing the shot. The burning taste of tequila hits the back of my throat.

"Ah," Brooks says, then bites into the lime that's in his hand. "Here," he says, handing me one when he sees my face squirm.

"Thanks," I tell him and bite into it.

"This is why I can't leave you two alone together," someone interrupts, and I find myself turning around to face Nico. "Since when do you drink, BC?"

Nico stands there looking as gorgeous as ever. He's wearing dark jeans and a grey hoodie with a navy bomber over it. And of course, a pair of all-white Air Jordans. He's sporting just a bit of scruff around his sculpted jawline, and his emerald eyes appear confused - maybe even a little...dare I say it? Jealous.

Bella, Age 12 / Nico, Age 14

"This show is so stupid," Brooks growls. "I don't even get it."

"What's not to get, Brooks?" Nico asks as he gestures to the flat-screen TV. "It's simple. They pair these professional dancers with celebrities, and whoever makes it to the end wins a trophy and some good money."

I'm sitting on Nico's couch with the boys watching Dancing With the Stars. To be honest, I love the show, but if it were up to Nico and Brooks, we'd be watching ESPN. Fortunately, I got my hands on the remote first.

"Like I said...stupid." Brooks puts the bowl of microwavable popcorn that's sitting on his lap on the marble table beside him and then turns to me. "B," he calls out, motioning his fingers back and forth, "hand it over."

"Hand what over?" I play dumb and ask.

"The remote, genius."

"No way. We spent all of last night watching every Fast and Furious movie. Tonight, it's my turn."

"Then can you at least put something good on? At this point, I rather watch the channel guide."

"C'mon, Brooks," Nico says. I know he's not thrilled to be watching Dancing With the Stars either, but at least he's sucking it up.

"You can't be serious, Nico. I can dance better than these losers," Brooks points to the TV and says.

"You can't dance," I chuckle.

"Wanna bet?" He stands up and walks in front of me. "Here," he says, reaching out his hand. I pause for a few seconds, but then take it. Brooks pulls me in so that I'm forced to stand up, and before I know it, he's wrapping one hand around my waist and interlacing the other with mine. A few seconds later, we're slow dancing.

Brooks was right, he can dance.

"And here I was thinking you had two left feet," I tease.

Our feet continue to move in circles and now I'm facing Nico. He looks upset. His cheeks are sucked in and his nostrils are flaring. When I look at his eyes, I find that they're on my waist - where Brooks' hand is placed.

Brooks must sense something's wrong when my body starts to tense up. "You okay, B?" he asks me. But all I do is pull away from him and look at Nico, who still appears uneasy.

"Yeah," I fake a smile and say. "Just shocked that you were able to prove me wrong is all."

I walk back to the couch and take a seat, where I feel Nico's cold energy linger in the air. Nico reaches for the remote as Brooks sits down next to me.

"Brooks is right," Nico says. "This show is stupid." And just like that, he switches the channel to ESPN.