Chapter Twelve
Kayla was heading to Albus' apartment with determination. Maybe it was just adrenaline, but it practically carried her past the dark streets of Diagon Alley at two a.m. Soon, she was rapping her knuckles on his door sharply, ready to speak to him.
And then she looked down and realized she had flour all over herself.
All the adrenaline in her turned into immediate panic. Before she could Scourgify it off, the door yanked open. To her surprise, it wasn't Al who opened the door, but Scorpius.
"Kayla?" He looked a little startled. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
Behind him, she could see Albus sitting on his couch. He hadn't turned to check who was at the door at all. She turned her attention back to Scorpius; she was sure he knew about her and Al dating, but she definitely didn't want to tell Scorpius about what happened that morning.
"How was the bachelor party?" she managed nervously, not knowing what to say.
"It was good," Scorpius said absent-mindedly, looking back at Al. "Listen, Al is kind of drunk, he lost this game and had to down four shots. Maybe it's best if you talked to him tomorrow?"
"Probably," she agreed, feeling disappointed. She looked down at the foil-wrapped plate in her hands. "I made these for him, maybe you could -"
"Who's that?" Al had come stumbling over to the hall to see who was standing by the door. When he saw her, he groaned loudly and leant into the wall. "Kayla. If you wanted to call this off, couldn't you have done it in the morning?"
She flushed brilliantly as Scorpius glanced in between them. "I think I've missed something."
"No, don't worry," Kayla said hastily, stepping inside. It was clear she needed to talk to him tonight; it couldn't wait. "Why don't you head home, Scorpius? I'll take care of Al."
"Are you sure?" he asked her, but Al had suddenly bolted into the bathroom. Scorpius' eyes widened. "Erm, if you insist."
Kayla nearly laughed despite herself as Scorpius let himself out. Al's apartment was quite messy, with papers and books on every surface of his kitchen and dining area. She set down the plate of brownies after shifting a couple books out of the way and shrugged her jacket off before heading to the bathroom.
Al had finished retching into the toilet and was chewing Tooth-Flossing Mints when she came in. He groaned when he saw her and sat down on a rug in front of the sink. His face looked very pale.
"What are you doing here?" he rasped, letting his head fall back against the cabinet.
She sat down opposite him, leaning against his shower door. "I came to apologize. I talked to Lily."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Kayla. I know I overreacted this morning."
She balked. "No, I was being stupid."
"I jumped to conclusions."
"That wasn't your fault, I wasn't making any sense."
"I understand if you want to break up."
"I don't want to break up," Kayla said loudly, and her voice echoed off the walls. She clasped her fingers together in her lap, but they still trembled. Maybe she would always be nervous around Al, and that's just how it was.
He watched her wearily. "I know it's only been three weeks. We can leave this on good terms and you'll still be friends with Lily."
"Lily will understand," she said confidently. Then she paused. "Do you want to break up?"
Al groaned and sat up a little, looking determinedly past her. "Did you know I had a thing for you in school?"
There was a beat of silence. Kayla felt stunned. "What?"
"Yeah." He shrugged, but his words were slipping into each other. "I was sure you knew. I mean, I just wanted to get to know you, but I was really shy those days. I nearly asked you out in my seventh year, but you were dating that Hufflepuff then."
"You..." She cleared her throat. Her heart felt like it was stuck there. "You never told me."
"Well..." Al shrugged again. "You know I've dated a few other girls since then. When we started hanging out a few years ago, and I thought you were with Hugo until you told me about Kevin a few weeks ago."
"I've never been interested in Hugo," she said numbly, her mind racing. She thought about how it would have been to date Al back then. Would they have stayed together? How differently would things have gone after she graduated?
She looked at him closely, and he looked quite red and embarrassed. Even drunk and sitting on his bathroom floor, Al was handsome – not in the way that was completely obvious, but in the sense that his kindness showed on his features. There was that softness to him.
"So, no," he continued, his words slurring a little, still not looking at her. "I don't want to break up. Whatever this is."
"You seemed pretty angry this morning," she commented nervously.
"Well, I am," he said pointedly, making her wince. "I've been honest with you from day one. I'm really trying to be patient because I know you get nervous. But you don't trust me at all."
"I do trust you," she said immediately. But she remembered that morning how she didn't trust him with her writing and didn't talk to him about practically anything important.
Maybe he had a point.
"I've had enough relationships built on lying and mind games," he said quietly. "I don't need any more."
"So have I," she said, thinking of Daniel and Kevin. "Manipulation and betrayal."
Al held his head in his hands. "Merlin, I wish the room would stop spinning."
"Do you have anything for that?"
"I might," he moaned. "I haven't done shots like this since I was twenty-one."
Kayla stood up then and opened Al's mirrored cabinet above the sink. She found a couple of vials of Pepper-Up potion, a few bandages and cough drops, but no sign of a Sobering Solution. She closed it and grabbed a glass by the sink before dropping onto the floor beside him. "I'm guessing you need some water."
Al made a sound between and snort and a grunt, but didn't look at her. She conjured water in the glass and he took it.
"I talked to Lily," she said quietly. "I was really wound up after what happened this morning."
He took a sip of water and grunted again. "What did she say?"
"I, uh..." Kayla's face flushed, thinking of how Lily made her scream at her and explode. "You know. We made up."
"Wonderful," he deadpanned.
When she looked at him, he was holding his head, fingers held tightly to his temples, eyes firmly shut, taking little sips of water. She remembered what Lily had said about how apologies wouldn't matter to him. Now, seeing him, it was clear that he wasn't just angry or exhausted, but also disappointed.
In her.
She took a deep breath. "Remember what I said about bad timing the other day?" Kayla asked tensely, hugging her knees to her chest. "After our first date…?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know if you really care," she began, "but things have been really confusing lately. Nothing to do with you. I think you've been the only normal thing lately. And nothing actually happened. I think it's mostly in my head."
He opened his eyes and turned his head to her. "I care." Al's voice was quiet, but very firm. As though he wasn't lying, as if he really ever did, but it gave Kayla the encouragement and strength she needed.
Because if she ever wanted to trust him, and she did, she supposed she had to start somewhere.
"Hugo announced to me a few weeks ago that he wanted to change my life," she said, trying to ignore the embarrassment from that statement. "I didn't really understand, at first, but then it became really clear that my life needs change. Everything I did was really stagnant. It was too comfortable."
Al nodded, motioning for her to keep going as he drained his glass.
"I guess…" She hugged her knees closer and rested her chin on them. Every word felt so difficult to say, but she pushed through. "I guess I felt like I lost myself. For a long time. Maybe it's terrible relationships that do that to you, and I just never noticed."
He nodded again, in agreement this time. "Yeah. They do."
"Hugo and Lily pushed me to do some things," Kayla admitted. "I suppose I was trying to find myself in the things I used to love, or dream about. It was harder than I thought to go back it all."
"Being comfortable is easier than it seems," he told her, seemingly much more sober now. "I was really reluctant to join the Potions club or try out for the Quidditch team. My brother helped me out with some of that, but it took a lot of pushing and work before it felt like any of it was worth it."
"Yeah." Kayla kept her hands wound around her calves, as if she could curl into herself. "That's why I'm learning how to fly. And why I have half a greenhouse in my room. And then there's this poetry thing."
When she fell silent for a moment, he nudged her with his knee. "What poetry thing?"
"You know, the open mic," she said in a small voice. "I write poetry. I want to perform it." She didn't look at him for his reaction before taking a deep breath and kept going. "This is really hard for me. I'm not the kind of person who is very open about things."
He nodded, and then seemed to regret the movement. He slid his hands back in his hair and closed his eyes. "I can see that."
"I wish I was, but I'm not."
Al kept his eyes closed, but he took her hand. "I really appreciate this, then."
She felt her cheeks heat up, but something inside her was singing.
"So I had a fight with Lily," she told him. "She's been goading me and trying to make me confront her about everything. And I hate confrontation more than anything, so I yelled at her and it was horrible."
He chuckled and conjured more water for himself. "I would pay five Galleons to see that."
"Excuse me, it was worth at least ten." He laughed loudly and she smiled. "I dunno. She was right. I needed to lose it and I need to stop letting everyone take advantage of me." Even thinking about how many people had done so made her fingers curl in anger.
Al evidently noticed, since he retracted his hand and rubbed his eyes. The water seemed to be doing the trick, as he was slurring much less now. "I suppose things make a lot more sense, then – especially the whole roof thing. I'm glad you've decided to face your fears."
"It's not easy," she admitted quietly.
"Nothing ever is."
"I went to the poetry slam last week," she told him as he shifted closer. "Everyone was so honest and brave. There was an audience and other amazing poets but the most timid people went up there. In the spotlight."
"Sounds pretty great," he said softly, resting his head on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you."
"I guess I can see why," he told her, closing his eyes. "Maybe it's me. I'm just so resistant to bullshit and excuses now that I see it all the time, even when it's not there."
"Bad relationships," she suggested, and he nodded.
"It's not an excuse." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder before wrapping an arm around her waist. "I think it's frustrating for me not to know exactly everything. It's only been three weeks, I should be more patient."
"You've been really patient," she told him truthfully.
He shrugged and finished his water. "I could've been better. I suppose moving out from Rose and Scorpius' place, and doing all this best man stuff… and loneliness…" He was struggling for words. "Everything's been really shitty."
"It sounds difficult," she said softly as he rested his head onto her shoulder again. He was still a little drunk, but she preferred him sleepy to upset. "But you haven't pushed me to do anything. I promise."
"That's a huge relief," he told her quietly. "I would never want to." His eyes were drooping, and before she knew it, he was asleep. She stayed sitting there as he napped, leaning against him, not wanting to wake him for just a little bit.
Truth was, she was relieved, too.
Love was hard to find, and good people were even harder.
"Kayla…"
She felt a hand nudging her arm gently. She woke up suddenly, blinking rapidly as her eyes tried to adjust to the dim light. Albus was beside her, and they were still sitting on the bathroom rug.
"We fell asleep," he whispered. "Do you want some water or something?"
"Sure." She felt almost lightheaded from exhaustion and her mouth was a little dry. He pulled her up and she followed him into the kitchen. The lights in his flat had all extinguished, so Al pointed his wand towards one light in the corner of his kitchen. It cast a low light over the room so it didn't hurt their eyes.
"Why are you covered in flour?" he asked, as though he'd just noticed.
"Oh." She looked down and nearly laughed, remembering the state of her clothing. "My version of a panic attack. The good news is that I made you brownies."
"Now I definitely forgive you," he joked. He conjured a couple of glasses of water and they both drank in silence.
Kayla tiredly checked her wristwatch. "It's nearly half-past four."
"I'm exhausted," Al said, finishing his water and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She liked him like this – shirt rumpled, hair messy and adorably sleepy. "I haven't slept properly in twenty-four hours."
"I should probably sleep, too," she agreed.
"Mhmm." To her surprise, he leaned against the counter and pulled her towards him by her hand. "You can stay here, I'll sleep on the couch if you want. Or I can walk you home."
"I could probably go by myself," she told him, placing her glass down. She forced herself to look in his eyes. They were much too close and she could feel the heat from his skin. "You should get some sleep."
"Feeling brave?" he joked with a soft smile.
"No, it's not very far…" She shrugged, unable to stop her blush. He stepped closer. "It's fine. I dunno if I'm meant to be brave. I'm not a Gryffindor for a reason."
"Gryffindors aren't that different from you." She shot him a look, and he reached to twirl the ends of hair. "We can pretend to be brave all we want, but we get scared shitless, too. The difference is that after a while, the fear starts to feel like excitement."
This made Kayla stop for a moment. She'd never considered that.
But it did make sense. It was adrenaline – fight or flight response. She was always of the flight response, choosing to run away for most of the difficult challenges she faced. Or she froze. She'd never considered that the fight response could come after the fact.
She looked up at Al. His gaze was flitting between her hair, her eyes and her lips, but he wouldn't do anything, she knew that. She trusted him.
But he seemed to have no idea what she was thinking, or that his words had a profound effect on her. He probably didn't know that her heart was beating wildly beneath his hand playing with her hair, or that something that felt a lot like bravery was rushing through her.
In the next moment, before she could really think it through, she stood on her toes and kissed him.
And Al, to her surprise, froze.
Kayla let him go after a few seconds; her hands sliding down from his jaw where she'd been holding him. She hadn't kissed anyone in years. There was nothing more than complete astonishment in his expression, and she didn't blame him.
Her lips were tingling, and she wanted to kiss him again.
"I… was not expecting that," Al said after a few moments. He sounded out of breath.
"I don't have the track record, I suppose," she said softly. Suddenly, she wasn't sure if it was the right moment to kiss him. They'd just fought that morning, they were both sleep deprived and it was much too late to be making any sort of rational decision.
Plus, she was covered in flour. She could see bits of it on his dark shirt now. She reached up to brush it off, and then hastily retracted her hand.
"I guess I should head out," she said timidly, stepping away and trying not to let the sinking feeling in her chest bother her. He didn't say anything. She could overthink this later, but first, she had to get out.
Kayla turned to look for her jacket where she'd left it on the chair. She'd just spotted it when she felt hands on her waist pushing her backwards, and the next thing she knew, she was backed against the kitchen wall and Al's lips were insistently on hers.
Her shoulder blades hit the wall and he pulled her waist closer. He smelled of something manly and vaguely sweet. His mouth slanted over and the stubble was rough against her mouth, but it felt brilliant. Her lips and tongue felt a little clumsy, but oddly, it felt natural after a while. He tasted like the mints he'd been eating earlier. She fisted her hands on his collar to bring him closer and a deep groan escaped from the back of his throat.
He paused to breathe after some time, but Kayla had no idea how long since her brain felt fuzzy. Their chests were heaving and he pushed his forehead against hers. Her face felt hot, but everything felt hot and his body was still pressed up against hers.
"You're definitely not going home," Al said breathlessly, still panting.
She laughed, out of nervousness, out of happiness. "I suppose it's late."
"Kayla." He pushed her into the wall with his hips. She stopped giggling when he brushed her red cheeks with his fingers, so gently that shivers ran up her spine. "Stay."
His eyes were dark and wanting, so she kissed him again.