Page 105 of Seeds of Christmas
“Yeah.” I set my phone down. “He lived there for three years. His room, his stuff, his friends. Everything there reminds me of him. And I just—I couldn’t deal with it. So I moved out. Stopped going to events. Basically ghosted everyone.”
Rhi doesn’t say anything, just runs her fingers through my hair. “What are you scared of? If you go back?”
“I’m scared it’s going to hurt,” I say honestly. “Being there without him. Seeing his picture on the wall with all the other alumni. Hearing people talk about him. Remembering all the times he was there and I was this annoying little brother tagging along.”
“Those sound like good memories.”
“They are. That’s what makes it hard.” I close my eyes. “It’s easier to just avoid it. To not go back. To pretend that part of my life doesn’t exist anymore.”
“But it does exist,” she says gently. “And those guys are your friends. They miss you.”
“They miss Dominic.”
“They miss you too.” She shifts so we’re face to face. “Carter, you’re allowed to have a life that includes him without being consumed by him. You’re allowed to go back to that house and have fun and make new memories. That’s not betraying him. That’s living.”
“What if I’m not ready?” I ask quietly.
“Then we don’t go. We stay here, order takeout, watch the ball drop on TV. No pressure.” She takes my hand. “But I think you might be more ready than you realize. You showed up in top form for the research trip. You showed up for me when I confronted Matthew. You’ve been showing up for yourself.”
“This feels different.”
“It is different.” She squeezes my hand. “But you can’t hide from it forever. And I don’t think you want to.”
I think about that. About what I actually want versus what feels safe.
“The last New Year’s at the frat, Dominic was there,” I say. “It was New Year’s two years ago. He was in the kitchen doing shots with Marcus, and I was being an idiot freshman, and everything was normal. And I didn’t know—” My voice catches. “I didn’t know I only had one more month with him.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I know. But if I had, I would have paid more attention. I would have talked to him more. I would have said—” I stop. “I don’t know. Something that mattered.”
She looks at me seriously. “What would he tell you to do? If he could?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “He’d tell me to stop being a pussy and go to the party.”
She laughs. “Would he really say it like that?”
“Verbatim. Probably while dumping beer on my head or doing something equally obnoxious.” I’m grinning. “He was really good at the tough love thing.”
“So, what would tough-love Dominic say about you avoiding his house for a year?”
I can hear his voice so clearly, it hurts.Carter, dude, they’re your brothers too. Stop moping and go hang out with them.
“I’m going,” I hear myself say. “To the party. I want to see the guys.” I’m going to stop running away from every place that reminds me of him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I sit up, pulling her with me. “Will you come with me?”
“To a frat party on New Year’s Eve?” She wrinkles her nose. “Do I have to?”
“Please? I need moral support. And also, someone to kiss at midnight and drink cheap cider with.”
“You’re really selling this.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll watch a documentary about volcanoes.”
“I have like eight queued up.”
