|| ONE ||

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Josh Washington sighs for what seems like the millionth time today. He hastily throws the shirt he's been holding into the open duffle bag in front of him. He narrows his eyes, giving me that pointed "please-stop-asking-me-if-I'm-okay" look I've been receiving since the day I met him. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't ask me that again." His voice is quiet but harsh.

I don't flinch at his tone, not like I used to. I know he doesn't mean it. He's assured me several times that he doesn't mean it. Apparently, it's the only assurance I actually believe. "I'm worried about you," I say. "Everyone's worried about you."

He rolls his eyes and grabs another shirt. "I'm fine, Charlie. Stop talking about it."

I frown and fold my arms across my chest. "I don't believe you."

"You have no reason not to believe me," Josh snaps. I do jump this time, instinctively taking a take steps away. Josh closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to get mad at you. It's just - all of the worrying is driving me crazy. I'm already crazy, Charlie. I don't need any more on top of it."

I glare at him. "You're not crazy."

Josh gives me half a smile. "Oh please." I shake my head. "Alright, whatever. Do you want to sit down? You're making me nervous, standing in the doorway."

He pats the bed, flashes another smile, and turns back to his closet to grab another shirt. I walk further into the room and jump up onto the bed, which stands taller than my waist. Why does he need such a tall bed? How the hell did he get into it when he was younger? I lay on my side and rest my head against one of his pillows. It smells nice, comforting, like the Old Spice deodorant I know he wears. I try not to look too content with it.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Josh asks, folding a pair of jeans and tucking them away in his bag.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

Josh shrugs. "You've never been up there before. You don't know some of my friends very well, which could make it an uncomfortable time for you - "

"Are you having second thoughts about inviting me to go to your parents' lodge with you and your friends, Josh?" I sit up a little, propping myself up on my elbows. "I'd like to remind you that this was your idea. All of it."

"And I think it's a great idea. I just want to make sure you're going to be okay."

I roll my eyes. "How about we worry about you instead of me?"

"How about we not worry at all, if that's the case?" Josh leans across the bed to put a hand over my mouth. I lick his palm, but he just smiles. "We're going to have a great time. I believe it; I want you to believe it, too." He takes back his hand and wipes his palm on his shirt with a slight shake of his head. "Trust me; you're going to love it up there. It's beautiful."

I smile. "I believe you. I can't wait."

Josh grins. "Good." He returns to stuffing clothes into his duffle bag. "I really hope you like it. Some of my best memories are from up there."

I like him like this - happy. Too often he's sullen and quiet, like he expects the world to come crumbling down on him at any moment. I can't blame him. Really, it seems like he has less reasons to be happy than he does to be depressed as of late, but now he's practically glowing, just like when he first asked me to come with him. Then he was nearly shaking from excitement. He's improving.

"I'll love it," I say, and he beams. "Hey, Josh?" He hums. "Why'd you wait to pack until literally an hour before we have to leave to catch our flight?"

He laughs, and it makes my heart ache. I've missed it, the sound. The happiness. It took months for it to come back, and only months to go away again. It's rocky ground we're treading.

"Oh, you know me - always putting things off until the last minute."

"I do," I say with a smile. "Hurry up. I'm getting tired of watching you."

Josh zips up his bag and tosses it onto the floor before jumping onto the mattress next to me. He reaches a hand out and tickles my side, laughing at me while I try to smack his hand away from me. "Come on, Charlie, you know you could never get tired of me," he says.

I raise an eyebrow, trying to hide my smile. "Do you want to bet me?"

"Nope." He stops tickling me and pokes my cheek instead. "I'm too cute. There's no way you could ever be mad at me."

I roll my eyes good-naturedly. "We'll see about that."

We both laugh, and I can't help but watch him. It's been so long since I've seen him like this, it's almost heartbreaking. Soon the giggles subside and he's just staring at me, like he's waiting for me to say something. I always have something to say. "Are you sure you're okay?" I say quietly. Josh opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "I mean really okay, Josh."

His green eyes are intense as he watches me. "I want to do this, Charlie. Why can't you see that?"

"I can see that, Josh. I just want to make sure you're alright." He frowns at me; I shake my head. "Have you talked to Dr. Hill about this?"

Josh sighs and rolls away from me and off the bed. Hands clasped behind his back, he paces the length of the room. "I don't need my therapist's permission to do anything, let alone go on a trip to my parents' ski lodge with my friends like I've done every other year, Charlie."

I sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to watch him pace. "This isn't 'every other year' though, Josh." My voice is soft. I don't want to push the subject any further than this; I don't know if Josh wants to push the subject any further than this. It's not something we talk about very often, especially not of late.

Josh walks back over to the bed, coming to stand between my knees. He looks down at his hands, which are tightly woven together in front of him. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks. "Just because my sisters went missing last year doesn't mean I can't go back there ever again."

I'm silent.

Josh swallows audibly. "I'll be fine. I promise. I-I have to go back." He looks up at me. His eyes are shiny. "I want things to be normal again. With my friends. With myself." He looks down again. His shoulders are shaking.

"Hey," I say. My voice is gentle. I place my hands on either side of his head and tug him closer until his forehead is on my shoulder. He puts one hand over my heart and the other over his and breathes slowly. "Just breathe. You're okay." I move my palms over his ears.

He nods, moving around the fabric of my shirt. And he breathes.

Minutes pass in silence until Josh finally steps back, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. "I'm okay," he says. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Josh hops back onto the bed and settles in beside me, draping an arm around my shoulders and giving me a quick squeeze. "I'm glad I met you, Charlie."

"I know."

He gives a short chuckle. He smiles. And he breathes.