How to Say I Love You Out Loud by Karole Cozzo Page A

us.
    Alex tilts his head and I feel him studying me for a long time. “It’s a shame you never gave anyone here a chance. Kinda sucks you chose to handle it that way.”
    My back stiffens defensively. I’ve always known that Alex would think less of me if he knew the truth. He would want me to be different, better. Braver.
    “I’m not a bad person,” I protest. “It’s just—”
    “I know you’re not a bad person,” he cuts me off. “That’s not what I meant.”
    Seeing me shiver, he shrugs out of his sweatshirt even though he only has a short-sleeved T-shirt on underneath. He drapes it around my shoulders and I am at once enveloped in Alex scent and
Alex warmth.
    And God does it hurt.
    His voice drops to a near whisper and he moistens his lips. “I’m sorry you chose to handle it this way, because it’s just really sad to think about you having to feel so
alone.”
    His explanation surprises the hell out of me. It catches me off guard.
    My lungs constrict and I can’t breathe. My longing is so intense it’s nearly dizzying. I want to ball my hands in the soft material of his T-shirt and I want to pull him close to me.
I want to bury my face against his chest and I want him to wrap his arms around me. I am longing to be held tightly, I am longing to
not
feel alone.
    My fingers inch toward his sleeve, considering.
    I force myself to picture Leighton, conjuring up the angry, determined mask that is her face on the hockey field, charging toward the goal.
    She is only thirty yards away, tops. While I sit here, wearing her boyfriend’s sweatshirt. What do I think I’m doing?
    I already
had
my chance and I blew it. I ball my hand into a fist and shove it inside my pocket.
    I ask a stupid question to break the spell. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”
    It’s a ridiculous thing to ask, and he would be entitled not to justify it with a response.
    He answers anyway. “No. That’s your decision.” Alex stands suddenly, brushing off his jeans. “Not my place to judge.”
    But his voice has tightened and I sense judgment. I do. He thinks I’m a bad person for wanting to keep my brother a secret.
    I stare back at the ground.
We’re not all as perfect as you are, Alex. We’re not as strong or good.
    Ultimately, he finds a small smile for me and extends his arm to offer a hand up. “Come back to the party. I’m sure everyone’s moved on.”
    “I just need a few more minutes. Then I will, promise.”
    Alex nods in the direction of the empty red cup on the ground beside me, the one I carried back with me. His smile blooms and turns teasing. “You think some of this is just ‘beer
tears’?”
    I can’t help laughing; he’s probably right. If I hadn’t been drinking, I probably wouldn’t have gotten so worked up. “Not beer tears, no. But maybe a few peppermint
schnapps tears in the mix.”
    “You guys need a ride later? Andy’s driving us.”
    “Thanks, but we’re okay.” I shake my head. “Tanu’s not drinking tonight. Her mother will be waiting up.”
    He hesitates, lingering, but eventually concedes. “Alright. If you say so.”
    Alex turns his back to leave, and my mouth is speaking before my brain grants it permission. I attribute it to peppermint schnapps courage. I could never ask the question face-to-face, but I
manage to speak it into the darkness to his retreating figure.
    “Why’d you come back here, anyway?”
    He stops in his path. He doesn’t turn around right away.
    When he does, it’s written all over his face. There are a million ways he could answer my question, a million things left unsaid.
    Eventually, he settles on just one. “You were upset,” he says simply. “And look . . . I know there are these . . . boundaries. I know you want them there.” He demands
that my eyes meet his before he continues, and I know we’re not really talking about Phillip or my home life anymore. His expression turns pained. “But you were sad and that makes me
sad.