All the Bright Places is a young adult fiction novel by Jennifer Niven which is based on the author's personal story. The fiction is written in a subjective style from the point of view of the two main characters, Finch and Violet. [Source: Wikipedia]

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Fun fact: Emily had forgotten about the 'Simon Wallberg' incident. Nathan Callahan had made sure Simon hadn't. It's a good thing, Simon knew how to hide bruises.

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Chapter Twenty Five: All The Bright Places

I was sitting at my study table with The Guest List in my hand, biting my nails as I read. I tried, but I couldn't concentrate. Prom was tomorrow, and I couldn't figure out why Nathan had acted the way he did today, the way he did ever since the dress shopping.

He avoided me in class. When I asked, he said it was alright, but one part of me was afraid that he'd refuse to go at the last second.

Was he regretting asking me?

My insecurities lashed out at me as I looked into the mirror, at my reflection.

I shook my head. I needed to trust him. He worked so hard to ask me out. He even went dress shopping with me. Whatever the reason I was thinking he'd walk out on me had nothing to do with him.

But I couldn’t shake out this fear that I’d be abandoned. That everything would somehow get screwed up and blow up in my face. Leanna would tell me ‘I told you so’ with an eye roll. My life wasn’t a fairytale, and going to Prom holding Nathan’s hand seemed like one.

I closed the book with a snap when a text came through.

It was from Nathan Callahan.

I quickly opened my inbox, and it was a photo. He had sent me a selfie. He was lying on his pillow. But his face was covered with a book, Beach Read.

A relieved sigh escaped my throat as I replied.

Me: are you reading

Nathan: I'm actually done reading

I hadn't read a single page.

Me: so what do you think

Nathan: let me call

My phone started ringing. I smiled to myself before picking up.

“How was it?” I asked.

“Very corny,” Nathan replied, “extremely cheesy. Too many descriptions about feelings.”

I laughed. “And?”

“I loved that her father had a mistress,” Nathan said, “and a secret life.”

I smiled, “Of course you did.”

“The dude was okay, I guess,” he said, “but I think I'd make a better love interest.”

I was glad he was back to his arrogant jerk self, for once.

I chuckled, “You wish.”

“What are you doing?” He asked.

I couldn't possibly tell him I'd spent the entire evening freaking out that I wasn’t pretty enough to go to Prom with him, that he would not want to go anymore.

“Umm, just reading the one I bought,” I replied.

“I looked up the spoilers for that one,” Nathan said as the sneak he was.

“No, you didn't,” I warned him.

“Yes, I did,” Nathan said, and I could picture him grinning.

“If you open your mouth, I swear,” I said, “I hate spoilers. TJ had spoiled enough books for a lifetime.”

“Who's TJ?” He asked. He seemed to be moving around.

“She's my best friend from middle school. She moved away before high school started,” I told him as I lay down in my bed.

He was speaking like his usual self, but his voice had a sad undertone.

“Are you…okay?” I mumbled, then I regretted saying it as he paused, breathing on the other end.

“I…” Nathan tried to answer, “give me a few minutes.”

Then he hung up on me. I stared at my phone screen. I couldn't tell how long I looked at it, thinking about reasons that could make him sad.

Exactly five minutes later, my phone rang again.

“I'm here, Emily,” Nathan said.

My heart rode up to my throat as I sat up straighter.

“Here?” I asked, feeling breathless.

“Yes, in front of your house,” he replied from the other end.

I jolted up to a standing position, “What?”

“Come meet me, Em,” he said in reply.

I was pacing around my room. This boy. This arrogant, dark-humored, wild boy who got on my nerves and always made fun of my dreams, was in front of my house.

I don't deserve him, my thoughts flashed.

“Why?” I asked as I opened the door to my room and started climbing down the stairs. “Why are you here?”

Nathan stayed silent. Then he said, “Just because.”

I could picture him shrugging, even though I had no way of knowing if he actually did.

“That is not an answer,” I looked at the living room. Mom was sleeping on the couch.

Oh, thank the stars.

I tiptoed my way around the hallway and opened the front door. I got out, turned around, and closed it. I walked to the front gate and opened it.

Nathan stood there in his usual denim jacket, black shirt, and jeans, his phone to his ear, his hair blowing in the night air, with a sad smile plastered on his face.

He waved at me as soon as he saw me.

My stomach twisted as I walked closer, “You are out of your mind.”

“Maybe,” he replied.

Nathan's eyes traveled from my face to my chest, to my stomach, down to my leg. Warmness bloomed across my skin, and I looked down at myself. I was wearing a mismatched pajama top and a pair of shorts. My legs were bare. So were my arms. The top was half-sleeved.

I pulled my top down to no avail, “You came so unannounced.”

And I ran without checking my outfit.

I fiddled with the hem of my top when Nathan's eyes came back to mine, “Thought I'd surprise you or something.”

I swallowed. “Well…?”

Nathan smiled, “Are you not even going to invite me in?”

My eyes widened, “Mom is around and-” I started to say and remembered she was sleeping now.

“Can you crawl?” I said, waiting for a reaction from him.

“Are we going to enter a battlefield?” He chuckled.

“If my mom wakes up, it would be,” I said to him.

I couldn't tell what I was thinking. Maybe I wasn't even thinking. Because I grabbed his wrist and pulled him along with me. We crossed the threshold together. I looked at him and placed my index finger on my lips, gesturing for him to keep silent.

Nathan looked very amused.

I tiptoed around the living room. Nathan followed me, silently laughing.

I pushed him to my front, and we climbed the stairs as I kept my eyes on mom. Then I pulled him inside my room, closed the door, and finally let out the breath I was holding.

“Damn,” Nathan said, standing in the middle of my room, “that's some extreme sport.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No joke. It was thrilling,” Nathan laughed.

I walked to him and tried to poke him in the ribs. But he held my fingers, wrapped his palm around them, and stared into my eyes.

I blinked, “You're in my room.”

“Yes. Seems like it,” he said.

Then Nathan looked around. He took in my desk, unorganized, with opened books and copies, my bed with a comforter thrown across it. His eyes fell on my bookshelves.

“Hmm, you have your own Barnes & Noble here,” he commented.

“I guess,” I smiled.

He let go of my hands, which I realized then he was holding. He started checking out the titles.

“There are five books from the Emily person,” he said.

“Yeah, I bought all of them,” I smiled.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. My heart decided that was bad for it.

I took a few deep breaths as he kept staring at me.

We stared at each other without saying anything.

“This is awkward,” Nathan said.

I burst out laughing. He grinned. But it also vanished as soon as it appeared.

He sat with his legs stretched forward, with both of his palms on my bed, leaning back as he stared at me, his face void of all emotions.

My heart skipped a beat, started, then skipped again as I stood near my door. I needed something to hold onto.

His eyes were like the center of gravity, a focal point amidst all blurs, a quiet fire that dared to consume me if I took one misstep.

“Come here,” Nathan said, almost in a whisper.

I took a few light steps until I reached him, a foot away from where he was sitting, his long legs making a small space in the middle, calling me to step in between them. He moved one of his hands. His fingers circled my wrist as he pulled me towards him.

“Closer,” Nathan said, with a concentrated frown, like he wasn't getting what he wanted, and God forbid me if I knew what he wanted.

I stepped between his legs as he circled my waist with his arms. I didn't have a moment to react before he hid his face in my belly, hugging my torso, resting his forehead right beneath my ribs.

The press of his face felt so warm. His nose brushed a little opening between the buttons of my pajama top. I could feel his long exhale on my skin, the warm rush of breath traveling over me. The hair on my neck stood up, and I didn't know what to do with my hands, with myself.

After a few stupefied seconds of silence from me and long breaths from him, I placed my hands on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I knew this wasn't usual Nathan behavior. I remembered a time when I had thought if he would ever come to me when he was sad. Now I realized I never wanted him to be sad in the first place.

“No,” he mumbled into my top, pulling me in tighter.

I couldn't resist, before slowly trailing my fingers through his hair on his scalp. The short strands at the back of his head felt rough on my fingers. God, I liked it.

He made a non-eligible sound, and I almost let him go. Instead, I started massaging his shoulders, thinking that would make him feel better. His muscles felt taut under my hands, so much tension hiding right there.

He leaned back a little and looked up at me, his chin resting on my belly, his eyes traveling up to my neck, to my jaw, to my face, to my eyes. I tried to smile for his sake.

“I really like looking down on you,” I muttered. He closed his eyes and let out a huff. “You always seem so tall, so... unattainable. This way, you almost seem within my grasp, within my reach.”

I said, smoothing down the lines on his forehead.

“I am not the one unattainable,” he replied quietly.

My room felt like a space separated from the rest of the world, a different world of its own where only the two of us existed; Nathan Callahan staring into my eyes, and me gazing back with one of my hands on his shoulder, the other on his forehead.

He let go of my waist and gestured for me to sit down.

I sat, folding one of my legs and the other dangling to the side as he sat facing forward.

“What happened?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

Nathan let out a small sigh as he rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

Something bad must have occurred.

“What’s got you so riled up?” I asked, one of my fingers circling over the tight muscle of his shoulder.

He grabbed my wrist. Then he placed it on his lap.

This brought me closer to him. “Tell me what you need. Do you want me to be a listener? Do you want to vent? Or should I give you advice? Or maybe I can distract you.”

He finally met my eyes.

Yours are the most fascinating eyes I've ever seen.

A little blue, a little green. It'd be so hard to replicate.

Those words sparkled in my brain, fragments of his voice reminding me how he liked looking at my eyes.

“I can't tell you,” Nathan said. His eyebrows furrowing in an expression I could only describe as agony.

“Neither can you give me advice. Although,” he looked at my hand in his, “if the context were different, maybe you'd be the only one able to.”

He traced small lines in my palm, following the natural curves and straights. I felt it from the roots of my hair to my toes. My breath caught, but I did my best not to let it show.

“That leaves the distracting bit,” I said.

Nathan glanced at me again, “I wonder what you have in mind to distract me.”

I tried not to think of that one thing that came to my brain instantly. The blood rushed to my cheeks, and I cleared my throat.

“Maybe I could read you a book,” I suggested.

He gave my bookshelf a glance and then turned back to me, “No. Your books about feelings are only going to make things worse.”

He slipped his fingers through mine, his long fingers against my short, stubby ones. I watched the difference in sizes of our hands as he intertwined them while looking at me.

“Have you ever…” I started, but I didn't complete my sentence.

“Have I ever what?” Nathan said.

“Maybe this is not the right time.” I said, but I had his attention now.

“Say it,” Nathan would not let it go.

“Have you ever thought about why?” I said as I felt a familiar ache spreading through my ribs, “Why do ‘feelings’ scare you so much?”

Nathan froze as soon as I let out the question. He swallowed thickly, “Umm, no.”

“I have a theory?” I said, “but I can be very, very wrong. It's just that I read all these books and analyze these characters, and sometimes you just understand human psychology a little better with all that exercise.”

Nathan slowly unwrapped my fingers from his. Then he started examining my knuckles, rubbing his thumb over each one. “Let it out, Emily.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” I whispered.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut as if he was in pain. When he opened them again, his gaze looked determined, “You could never hurt me.”

I offered him a sad smile.

“It's always me who ends up hurting people. I always do that. A snide remark. A harsh comment. A condescending smirk. Saying something that nobody wants to hear. Something that I shouldn't say. It's always me.”

I felt this urge to wrap him in a hug, hiding him from every bad thing he thought about himself. But I didn't want to startle him. So I let him continue.

“I guess that's because I'm the middle child?” He laughed, “Being uncharacteristically mean is my way of reminding them I exist. Like, that's so freaking stereotypical. I always wanted to think that's not true for me.”

I squeezed his hand.

“My brother is always so nice. Like he's the guy you'd want. Nice to a fault, almost gullible. Georgie is dangerous,” he laughed, “but at the end of the day, she is fiercely protective of the people she loves. And that makes her amazing. I am always the one who doesn't make anyone happy.

“But it got worse when I wasn’t the youngest anymore. Suddenly, mom had Sawyer and then Bear too. Mom and Dad focused all their attention on them. It was like they were done raising me?

“So I bonded better with the older two. But then they started leaving home. And I was left alone. This thing about messing up only got worse. I started avoiding people in school too. I always fought with Theo and Fletcher, but I felt comfortable enough with them. So I thought I didn't need any more friends.

“And that's it, I guess.” Nathan said with a shrug. “I remember saying something awful to you.”

“Hmm, let me think,” I said with my index finger tapping my chin, “The one about my romantic dreams being shitty, and you wanting to break my heart?”

“Oh, God,” Nathan said and looked away. He let my hand go, “I hate myself.”

“Hey, I didn't take it seriously,” I said, “I thought you were high or something.”

“Yes, definitely high.” he said sarcastically, “High on self-destruction.”

It made me burst into a laugh. His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile too, looking at me.

Nathan proceeded to ask, “So what were you saying about a theory?”

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A/N: the next chapter is even better ✨