16.

Atticus ended up completely taking over the whole attaching the wild horses painting to the living room wall. He drilled a hole, while I just awkwardly stood there with nothing to do.

Couldn't leave either, because Chiara was making lemonade for us in the kitchen.

Just to make things even more awkward, the front door opened in the hallway. Dad came home, right at the moment Chiara walked into the living room with two glasses of lemonade.

"Too bad, the lemonade is only for the people who helped with the painting," Chiara teased Dad, going into the kitchen to pour him a glass anyway after he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Atticus and I stood in the living room, both with a glass of lemonade in hand while we heard giggles and kissing sounds coming from the kitchen.

We both didn't want to stick around longer then necessary it seemed. Atticus drained his glass incredibly quickly and fled to the study for homework.

I made some more small talk with Chiara and Dad, and managed to get away about ten minutes later, after promising I'd clean up the mess in the garden when the paint was dry.

On the way upstairs I contemplated my incredibly poor life decisions. I had my suspicions as to why Atticus didn't go upstairs like I did. He was likely freaking out and ranting to Jonah. Great, because I really wanted the fact that I asked my stepbrother out spreading in school.

Why on earth had I done that? Atticus was obviously not talking about me.

I resorted to self-loathingly telling Taylor and Jenny the whole story online.

Jenny thought I should act like nothing had happened, be confident. Taylor suggested briefly apologizing for overstepping lines and then keeping some distance.

I chose secret option number three: eating a month's worth of chocolate chip cookies in bed while watching contemporary romantic comedies on Netflix.

The two main characters were just about to kiss when my door slowly opened.

I sat up so fast my earbuds slipped out of my ears and laptop nearly slid off my lap and onto the floor.

Atticus appeared in the door opening. "Sorry," he said with a grimace. "I knocked. Several times the last two hours. But you didn't respond."

His eyes darted to the space on the floor next to me, and I was very acutely aware my room was filled with empty chocolate chip cookie wrappings.

I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I know; don't eat crap while you're on the football team. I don't think I can give my cookies up. That's just not the way the cookie crumbles."

Atticus didn't smile at my joke. His eyes trained on the back of my laptop.

"Yes," he suddenly said.

"Yes?"

"Yes, when you move out..." Atticus trailed off. "Yes, I'd like that."

Atticus hung out with Corey too much. He didn't explain what he was talking about either. Except, with Atticus I did understand what he meant.

"Whew!" I released a breath through my mouth, blowing the air up to my face, which felt like it was burning all over. "Good. Imagine the awkwardness if you'd said no? I'm so glad this is not one-sided it's unbelievable."

Time to stop talking, Kade. You're blabbering.

Atticus was still standing at the entrance. He scratched his elbow, a vague semblance of a smile on his face. "It's not."

Okay, how was I supposed to end a conversation like this? Shake on it like a job interview? Tell him I'll call you once I moved out so we can schedule a date?

Both of those sounded awful, so I chose secret option number three again: don't end the conversation. There was something he should know, if I, in good conscience wanted to go out with him. Honesty was the basis of any relationship, and I wanted to be honest.

I patted the space on the bed next to me and smiled. "Sit down? Or, in my chair is also good."

Much to my surprise, Atticus hesitated for a split second, then went for the unsafe option. Sitting next to me.

Unsafe for me that was. Who knew if he was about to punch me for what I was going to say?

"Look, I have to come clean about somethin' bad," I said. "Absolutely and completely without intendin' to I saw somethin' on... on the computer downstairs. I just wanted to find tickets for the Escape Room, I swear! But it was just there in my face and I couldn't unsee it. Uh, I mean, your chat with Jonah. A small part of it."

"...Oh."

Atticus shifted, making the bed creak. I wondered if he was having some sort of mental implosion because the room stayed quiet so long, but then he finally spoke up again: "Thanks for being honest. I appreciate that. I already wondered why you wanted to go out together. I barely said a word to you."

"And when you did, you were rude. I wonder if I'm a closet masochist for gettin' kinda embarrassingly obsessed with who you liked," I joked. "Nah just kiddin' I knew you weren't just being rude."

"I was actually, but only because I didn't want us to get close as brothers." Atticus blew some air through his nose. "You know, on the first day after you arrived, Paul said he hoped I'd one day see you as a brother."

"And I sincerely hope not," I replied. "Not that you would't be a cool brother. The cool, hot football stud. Superficial I know, but you look good."

Atticus wrinkled his nose, making a funny face.

I laughed. "Not to mention, one who takes compliments adorably bad." I dared to gently elbow Atticus' arm, which made him twitch.

I laughed again. "Sorry not sorry, I'm going to make this more awkward because I'm curious. What made you like me?"

Atticus looked down at his hands, an embarrassed smile on his face as he shook his head.

"We didn't talk, but I listened to you talk to other people at the Student Council. I watched you a lot. I liked the way you, uh, do things. You're not afraid to do whatever you want. And Jonah kept telling me how cute you were and that you were totally into me and to stop screwing it up. And..."

Atticus rubbed his eye and then muttered something under his breath.

I raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I didn't catch that?"

"Superficial, I know, but you look good," he repeated my words from earlier, actually making eye-contact, shy as it was.

Oh, I spoke too soon. He looked away again. I hardly had time to note how Atticus made my stomach flutter with his sea-green eyes, or he was already changing the topic.

"Do you think this is too weird?"

"No, no," I immediately denied. "Well, maybe. Okay, it's uncomfortable, but once we're no longer living together we'd just be like any two people dating."

"Really?" Atticus side-eyes me, skeptical. "I'm not so sure about that."

I bit my thumb's nail. "They depicted us as brothers on the school news site."

"It could be weird for my mom and Paul," Atticus added.

"Probably," I agreed.

Atticus sighed. "I don't want a repeat of what happened last year when I came out. I don't need that kind of pressure along with the big games coming up."

"I understand."

"Really. I'm not good in the spotlight like you."

"I know."

Atticus and I sat side by side quietly for a while.

"So," I broke the silence, glancing Atticus' way. "Are you sayin' maybe not?'

Atticus sighed, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. "No, yes, I don't know."

"I'd understand," I offered, even though I didn't want to understand. Kinda.

Atticus wasn't that surly at  all right now. There'd always be an element of... sour to him I guessed. But now that I asked him out, I could see more and more of his personality. More sweet to add into the mix.

Atticus stared ahead to my wall, which was adorned with all kinds of little doodles and drawings I'd made over the days.

I stared at him.

"But to be honest, I kinda just want to call my mom right now and ask her when she's finally goin' to move here," I confessed. "So I dunno."

Atticus breathed in audibly. He raised his head from his hands to sit up, and slowly turned to me. His eyes fixated on me, caressing my face, made it hard to breathe.

"Too bad there's no way to somehow... compromise this," I muttered, leaning a little closer.

"Really a shame," Atticus replied, eyes darting to my lips.

Then it was all a matter of who would crack first. I'd always expected it to be me, because I'm not a tough-as-nails, anxious, running back varsity football jock. Or, maybe I should expect the unexpected as Atticus often seemed to do the unexpected thing.

Secret option number three was the theme of the night. We both cracked, our lips meeting halfway in a compromise I could definitely settle for.