So, what to do? Was it better to wait up in my room for a while, make Nick wonder where I was? If I did that, would he be able to tell it was on purpose? I seriously wanted to slap my own face for being so keyed up about seeing him. Why did I care? After what he did to me, I should have found somebody to choke him, Darth Vader style, but here I was acting like a girl on her first date. So I just went downstairs when I heard Mom open the door.
Nick is rich, but my house is just normal. A few weeks after the accident, I asked Mom and Joe to stop talking about Nick in front of me, and they mostly did, but right before news of his sudden wealth hit the media, I overheard them talking about investments and how they didn’t have to worry about retirement any more. So I guess Nick gave them some cash. But we just live like regular people. So when I came out of my room, I could look down the stairs and see the front door.
And there was Nick. God, he’s perfect. He has dark, dark brown hair, and I suddenly had a memory of plunging my hands into that hair and how it felt, thick and springy under my fingers. That memory, and the loss of what we had together, made my eyes sting with tears I didn’t need right then. I forced myself to remember the other stuff about him. The bad stuff. And then I could go downstairs dry-eyed and clear headed. Mostly.
I could just appreciate the way he looked, I told myself, like I would appreciate a Greek statue in a museum. And he did have the body for one of those sculptures of athletes that I’d studied in my Art History class. Broad shoulders, small hips, lean abs. It was impossible to see him without admiring him. At least it was for me.
He kissed my mom on the cheek, and she grabbed him and gave him a big hug. That’s Mom. She hugs everybody. Nick turned to Joe, his father, and Joe held out his hand to shake, but Nick ignored it and wrapped his arms around his dad. They held on a long time.
When I was at the bottom of the stairs, Nick noticed me over his dad’s shoulder and ended the hug. I didn’t see his tongue actually hanging out of his mouth, but he gave me a long, slow look up and down that made my heart speed up.
“Julia?” he said, and then before I could do anything, he took three fast strides and put his arms around me and embraced me too. I know I was as stiff as a board in his arms, but I absolutely could not think. The feel of his arms, of his chest against me, the smell of him—his cologne, yes, but also that warm sunshine smell that was just him—all that knocked rat
ional thought right out of my head. I think I put my arms around him too, but I’m not sure. I don’t know what it looked like to Mom and Joe, but it sure didn’t feel like a normal hug between a brother and sister. Or a normal hug of any kind.
“Well!” my mom said, all chipper, “Kiss and make up, children!”
I’m ashamed to admit it but I gave her such a dirty look then. I stepped back, away from Nick, and I could feel my face heating up.
Joe said in an undertone, “Not cool, Lucy.”
“I was just—” Mom said.
“I know what you were doing. Leave the kids alone.”
“Okay then, how about a drink, everybody?” she said, too brightly, trying too hard.
“Sure Mom,” I said. “Can I help you get anything?”
“No, it’s okay, I have the bar set up.”
This was new. We never had a bar set up, unless they were having a party. We all crowded around the little side table. Joe handed me a glass, and I sipped it without really noticing what it was. I was just focused on calming down, handling myself like an adult, not freaking out every time Nick touched me or looked at me.
Pretty soon, Mom called us to the table. She’d gone all out, making Chicken Cordon Bleu and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. Aside from the nice table linen and fancy food, it was a lot like the dinners the four of us used to share before the accident. We only had about a year of all living together before Nick went to college, but still, it was strange. All four of us were in our usual seats, with Nick directly across from me.
It was hard not to just stare at him the whole time. I kept sneaking looks at him. His eyes were a warm brown, like milk chocolate. They almost disappeared when he would laugh at something, which was often. He had a top lip that was chiseled and firm, and a bottom lip like a fat cushion. His nose still had the bump from when he broke it as a kid. The slightly crooked nose made him look a little tough, and saved his face from being too pretty. My eyes kept going back and forth from those lips to that little bump in his nose, so I could hardly follow the conversation.
Joe was trying to talk business with him. Joe was a high school science teacher, and he knew squat about business, so it was a little entertaining.
“So now, do you still have the company? I don’t understand that part,” Joe was saying.
“I still have the company, I just sold the license to the application to the manufacturer. The company holds all the patents.”
My mom chimed in, “How did you think up the app in the first place, Nick?”
“I just made the fitness app I wanted to use myself. I kept going back and forth between all these gadgets and online fitness programs, but I wanted everything integrated together.”
“That’s so amazing. I always knew you would do something amazing, didn’t you, Julia?” My mom really won’t let stuff go, can you tell?
“So Nick,” I said, “You’re a billionaire now, huh?”