Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

This time, I couldn’t resist the urge that overcame me, and I reached for her, pulling her into my chest and folding my arms around her as if I could shield her from something that had already happened. I didn’t even know what it was, what the hell she referred to entailed. All I knew was that I wished in so many ways that I could somehow snap my fingers and go back to high school and grab her in the hallway, pull her into a closet, warn her of the choices she was about to make.

But then, Paige wouldn’t exist.

And Sydney wouldn’t be the woman she was today.

As much as life hurt like hell, those painful lessons somehow seemed to have beautiful ramifications, like everything that happened was for a reason we could never fully see or understand until years down the line.

Sydney was stiff and hesitant in my arms at first, but then she relaxed, exhaling a long breath and letting me hold her. She was so small in my arms, and everything inside me ached to keep her safe.

We laid there with her wrapped in my arms and my chest tight for a long while, the soft sounds of the night surrounding us. I didn’t dare speak, not for the fear of spooking her out of my grasp with the mere sound of my voice. It was just like all those other times I’d sat in that meadow and tried to be perfectly still and quiet so as not to scare away the fauna.

She relaxed more and more into me as the minutes passed, and I held her tight, rubbing my hands over her back to soothe her. Then, out of nowhere, a soft and low hoot, hoot broke through the silence.

Sydney lifted her head, looking at me before she looked up at the trees behind us. “What was that?” she whispered.

It came again, and I smiled, sweeping the mess of hair that had fallen from her bun behind her ear. “I think it might be a saw-whet owl,” I answered, just as soft. “They’re rare, I’ve only ever heard one once before.”

Sydney smiled, laying her head back on my chest, and we listened to the owl until it quieted or left us, though we couldn’t be sure which.

“You know… I had a huge crush on you in high school.”

My eyes shot open at her admission, and I peeked down at her. “You’re shitting me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. I thought you were soooo cute.” She dragged out the syllables. “My friends did, too. But, you were so quiet, so elusive.”

“You make it sound like I was some broody bad boy.”

“To us, you were.”

I laughed through my nose. “I was just minding my own business.”

“Rare in this town.”

“I had a crush on you, too, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Wait, really?” She looked up at me, a pleased grin on her lips. “I wasn’t sure you even knew I existed.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen you?” I shook my head. “Besides, you were new in town. You know as well as I do that you can’t be new in town and everyone not find out who you are.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” I shot back. She stuck out her tongue, then laid on my chest again, her breaths coming easier now that we’d moved off the topic of her ex-husband.

We laid there silently, the night getting cooler around us. And with her wrapped up in my arms like that, I found myself thinking about the night I promised her I’d forget about, about the kiss we tried to swear never happened.

“I like this,” Sydney said after a while. “Talking to you like normal again.” She leaned up to look at me. “It’s been kind of… awkward, hasn’t it?”

I didn’t answer, though my heart leapt into my throat.

“It’s just nice to not feel like there’s something weird between us,” she continued.

“But there is.”

Sydney stiffened, and my heart beat hard in my chest — once, twice, faster and faster, as if urging me not to stop until I’d said what I’d needed to.

“There is something weird between us,” I said again, leaning up until my chest was even with hers, until our eyes were level and she could see the sincerity I hoped I was conveying. “That’s why you feel it. And it’s not just weird, it’s rare, and unique, and intoxicating and terrifying, too.”

Sydney’s throat constricted, her mouth parting as she listened.

“We’re both trying to pretend like I didn’t kiss you when I did,” I said, though my heart was so heavy in my ears I couldn’t be sure I’d actually said it loud enough. “Like I didn’t want to kiss you. But I did.”

Her eyes flicked between mine.

“Like it was a drunken night or a mistake,” I continued. “When we both know the truth is that I kissed you because I wanted to, because I needed to, because it felt like the only thing I could do in that moment.”