Sixteen years ago, Brooklyn had found her engagement ring. My proposal to her hadn’t been grand. And this time I didn’t even have a ring. You’d think I would have gotten better at this the second time around.
I hit the call button and waited. And waited. I hit it again and there was still no response. I balanced the flowers and bag in one hand and pulled out my phone. Kennedy knew I was coming. I’d just texted her about it when I left the graveyard. I pressed on her name on my phone to call her.
But it went straight to voicemail.
I took a step back on the sidewalk and looked up to the window of her apartment. It was pitch black. Had she fallen asleep? I tried calling her again, but it went straight to voicemail for a second time.
It had been thirty minutes tops since I’d texted her. She’d seemed excited for me to come over. I scrolled through our texts to see if I’d said anything stupid. Sure, that was probably one too many eggplant emojis. But I’d only been joking around. Kind of. Had that scared her off?
Fuck.
What was I doing?
She told me she wanted to take things slowly and I’d basically propositioned her for sex. And I was about to propose. I’d probably lost my mind. But it didn’t feel like I had, and that was somehow even more worrisome.
I hit the call button again, but she still didn’t buzz me up.
A chill ran down my spine and I turned around, but there was no one on the sidewalk behind me. I knew that Jefferson’s mom wasn’t a hitwoman now. And Mr. Pruitt said that he wasn’t having me followed. No one was watching me. But…I still felt uneasy. I couldn’t quite explain it. Like something about the fall air was off. Like something had suddenly shifted. And I had the strongest sense of déjà vu. Like I was here to see Brooklyn instead of Kennedy.
My phone buzzed and I quickly looked down. But it was just a text from Tanner asking me when I’d be home. I sighed and looked back up at Kennedy’s window. I was here to see Kennedy. Not Brooklyn. And I wasn’t against climbing up there. I’d gotten pretty good at it in my teens.
Before I could jump up to grab the bottom of the fire escape ladder, an old man walked out of the building. I ducked inside just as the door was closing. I took the steps two at a time. My heart was hammering against my chest when I reached her floor. But my excitement for the proposal was gone. I was worried something was wrong. Because even if Kennedy hadn’t answered her phone, Mrs. Alcaraz surely would have answered the buzzer. It was almost 11 o’clock. They had to both be home. Just like I was supposed to be home by now, thanks to Tanner’s stupid house guest rules.
I didn’t even glance at Brooklyn’s old apartment door. Something definitely felt off. And now my heart was beating even faster. I hurried over to the Alcaraz’s and knocked.
No response.
I knocked louder.
No response.
“Kennedy!”
No response.
“Mrs. Alcaraz!” I yelled louder and pounded on the door with my fist.
“Shh,” said Kennedy with a sniffle from behind the door.
Not just behind the door. But low. Like she was sitting on the floor. And judging from the sniffle she was definitely crying.
“Kennedy?” I said and pressed my hand against the wooden door.
“Please, lower your voice,” she said with a sob.
She was definitely sitting on the ground by the door. I knelt down. “Kennedy, open the door,” I said a little quieter.
“I made a mistake, Matt,” she whispered through her sobs. “I knew I should have never kissed you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
Sorry? Why was she sorry about that? Kissing her was the best thing I’d done in years. “Kennedy, let me in.”
“I…I can’t. Please just go.” Her voice shook with each word.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I can’t let you in.”
“Okay. Then come out.”
