Mine Would Be You (72)

But she doesn’t shy away. “Jackson, what’s wrong?”

“My dad’s in the hospital. Again. Has been for a week, and they didn’t tell me until this morning.” Her hand that was tracing circles on my arm stops, and I laugh dryly. “They didn’t tell me because they didn’t want me to worry.”

Nina moves closer and threads her fingers through mine. “I’m sorry they did that. That wasn’t right.” Her fingers find mine, spinning the ring on my finger repeatedly.

I lean my head against the wall, eyes on the street below before landing on her face. “I understand why they did it,” I say, but it’s a lie. I don’t get why they didn’t tell me. And I’m so fucking angry, but I don’t want to be angry at them.

Nina sees right through me, her lips quirking in a sad smile. “It’s okay to be angry, Jackson. It was wrong for them to wait. He’s your dad too.” She presses her fingers into my palm. “Did they say how long he’d be admitted?”

“They don’t know anything. And I don’t know how to be here while he’s in the hospital, and I don’t know if he’s going to go home. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but I want to see him.” My eyes roam over her face, the scar on the bridge of her nose, white against her brown skin. The full lips, a freckle on the bottom one, and her warm eyes.

“Then go see him. Can you take some time off work and go home?”

I sigh. “I’m nervous if I go then it means something is really wrong. Part of me just wants to be here with you. And I don’t want to leave when things are going so well.”

She adjusts until she’s kneeling between my drawn-up knees, looking straight at me. Her skin is warm, and her touch puts me at ease. “You don’t have to have it together all the time, Jackson. You don’t need to be the one to lean on out of any obligation. Things aren’t always perfect, and life can’t always be sunny. But I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s a gentle look in her eyes, and I know there will never be another girl like her. She may walk with a rain cloud some days, always prepared for the worst, but then she turns around and dances in it. Tries to make the best out of it and take others with her.

I know I’m leaving. I have to go see my dad. Just in case, just to make sure he’s okay and to spend time with him. Considering I don’t know what type of life I would’ve had if it wasn’t for him and my mom.

“I know I’ve been difficult,” she starts.

I shake my head. “No, you haven’t. But continue.”

She rolls her eyes, and the sight loosens the tightness in my chest. “I’m with you, whatever you need to do, whether it’s here in New York or in Georgia with your family, I’m still with you. I promise.”





“So, he’s leaving? For how long?”

I rub my hands over my face and roll my shoulders back. “I don’t know, Harper.” I sigh before throwing my clothes in my bag.

“And you’re okay? I know he’s going home for a good reason, but are you okay?” Her gray eyes flicker up to me. They stare into mine, and I bite the inside of my lip, pulling at the skin painfully until I drop it.

“It sucks. I’ll miss him, but the whole situation sucks. And me being upset about him going for a bit isn’t the same as his dad being in the hospital.” I shrug, zipping the bag closed. It’s packed for tonight. I’m heading to Jackson’s since he leaves tomorrow and even though I didn’t ask to come over, he invited me as soon as he booked the flight this week.

Harper shrugs. “Didn’t say it was. I just wanted to check on you.”

A sad smile forms, and I lean in, flicking her on the forehead in appreciation. I adjust the sweatshirt I have on, which is really Jackson’s, before gently swinging my bag over my shoulder. After a quick glance in the mirror, Harper follows me out into the living room, where I grab my water and keys and throw them in my bag.

“Okay, well, just text me if you need anything.”

I smile. “I’m not going to war, Harper.”

“All right, fuck you, I was trying to be nice.” She grins, and I roll my eyes, calling out a goodbye before shutting the door.

It’s mid-September, so it’s still warm, but the east coast humidity isn’t bad for once, and the breeze that flows through the buildings sends light goosebumps over my legs as the sun starts to set, painting the sky a light pink. The subway isn’t dead, but it isn’t packed either: a few people scattered around, some with headphones hanging out of their ears or holding books in their hands.

My phone starts to vibrate in my hand, and Veah’s name pops up on my screen. I slide my thumb over quickly. “Hey, Veah, what’s up?”

“Hi, Nina,” she says, and she sounds exhausted, just like Jackson did when he told me about his dad in my bedroom. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” My brows furrow as I stand up, getting ready to get off the subway.

“For convincing or encouraging Jackson to take off work and come home.” She pauses, and I can hear her small inhale as I step back into the street. “He’s mad at us because we didn’t wanna say anything until we had to, and I don’t like when he’s mad at me, and I feel bad and—”