Page 49 of Love and Other Chances

“I take it Brooks has already indicated his interest in pursuing a relationship again? At least, the amount of planning and coordinating he did for your birthday certainly leads me to that assumption,” Joy says.

I nod. “He’s giving me the time to decide what I want. But he’s leaving no stone unturned in the meantime.”

Joy smiles. “As he should be. You’re an incredible woman, Teegan. He’d better be pulling out all the stops to win you over.” Her smile softens. “But also—it’s okay if you decide to say no. Don’t mistake me saying you’d be a great match with me pressuring you into it.”

I look down at the table. “I’ve really enjoyed our small group, though. It’s filled this hole in my life that I didn’t realize was there. I’d hate to mess up the vibe of our group by turning him down. Or by saying yes and then having things end badly.” I cover my face with my hands. “I think we’ve passed the point of no return, though. No matter what happens, there’s a risk of things exploding.”

“Teegan, there’s always a risk of things exploding,” Joy says, and I peek out from behind my fingers. “Each day holds the threat of something terrible changing life as we know it forever. But every day also holds the potential for beauty you didn't see coming. You never know what kind of day it’s going to be. Sure, you can calculate risk, but you can never fully avoid pain.”

I mull over her words. “I’m not quite sure how to calculate this risk. Math was never my strongest subject. My mental calculator is the kind that looks like a bar of chocolate you buy from the school book fair, not the graphing type,” I joke.

Joy laughs. “I think you’ll do just fine figuring things out. Let me reiterate: I’m not telling you that Brooks is a risk youshouldtake. That’s up to you to decide. I’m only reminding you that there’s risk everywhere. Live bravely, even when you feel afraid.”

Joy’s advice echoes in my thoughts throughout the week. It’s always in the back of my mind—during my Bible studies, while I’m visiting the sororities, even while I’m dancing my stress away at gym class. I decide I should text Joy and thank her again for all of her thoughts and encouragement.

Before I click my phone off, I open my latest text from Brooks. It’s a photo of the sunset over the Flint Hills at the prairie reserve on the outskirts of Brooklyn. The vibrant pinks of the sky swirl with lavender clouds over the rolling plains.

BROOKS

Made me think of you. It’s almost as beautiful

At small group on Wednesday, we’re discussing the fourteenth chapter of John. We spend a lot of time talking about what troubles our hearts and what it looks like to rely on the peace that Jesus gives. A peace that’s unlike what the rest of the world has to offer.

I’m quieter than usual throughout the discussion. But I can’t exactly delve deep into what’s troubling my thoughts and disrupting my peace right now. Not when he’s across the circle from me.

Sleep comes in short bursts throughout the night as my mind tosses and turns over Brooks. At this point, it’s useless to deny that my heartwantsto be with him again. My Brooks. And yet, not the same Brooks. The updated version of Brooks that feels like it belongs with the updated version of me. As though every updated version will forever fit together, regardless of how we grow and develop with age.

Can I risk the possibility of a virus corrupting everything between us? Irreparably damaging my core processor? Since when do I think in computer software metaphors? I’ve been hanging around Will too much.

Because sleep was fitful, it doesn’t take much to wake me early Thursday morning. The sound of an ice scraper outside my window pulls me to full consciousness in record time.

Somehow, that sound scrapes away any lingering hesitations. I race to throw a sweatshirt over my pajama top and slide my feet into slippers. Opening the front door, I see that it’s actively sleeting.

And still, Brooks is scraping what ice he can off my windshield. Gina’s car is already cleaned off, aside from the fresh pellets still falling. He’s bundled up in a winter coat and gloves, but he still must be freezing.

Not even bothering to change into real shoes, I carefully make my way to Brooks, noticing that he sprinkled ice melt on the sidewalk.

“Teegan, what are you doing? It’s freezing out here! Get back inside!” Brooks tells me when he sees me approach.

“I want this.”

Brooks stares at me, hints of disbelief and hope wrestling in his eyes. “I really need you to clarify that statement,” he says, a desperate huskiness lacing his tone.

My body trembles from a combination of fear, adrenaline, and frozen rain, but I plunge ahead through the discomfort. “You. Us. Everything. I want this,” I state. “At least, I want to try. To see if there’s a second chance for us.”

The ice scraper clatters to the ground as Brooks exhales a shaky breath. He steps forward, closing the space between us. Pulling off his gloves, he cups my face in his hands. Pellets of ice continue falling around us, but the heat in his gaze sparks a fire in my core.

“This isn’t just a second chance to me, Sneaks.” His voice is tender, little more than a murmur. “This is the only chance I ever want. Before you say yes to this, you should know that I’m not just trying. It’s not going to be a half-hearted ‘it works or it doesn’t’ shot to me. We’re talking next-level full-court press, Teeg. Is that still what you want?”

I can’t look away from his eyes, from the intensity and pleading and fervor housed in those pale blue pools. Willing myself not to blink, I slowly reach my hands up to cover his.

“Yes.” It’s a whisper and a scream.

A smile twitches at the center of Brooks’ lips, slowly spreading to take over his entire face. His eyes briefly drop to my lips before returning to hold my gaze.

“I’m going to work really hard to not get ahead of myself with you, Sneaks. But know that in my mind, I kissed you senseless just now,” he says with a smirk.

I drop my head back, breaking eye contact, if only to stop myself from kissinghimsenseless. He’s right—it would be far too easy to get ahead of ourselves. Far. Too. Easy.

---