The silence between Nix and me was deafening. It opened up a whole new world of sounds. The faint rumble of music from Rainbow Central beneath us. The occasional drip of the leaking faucet from the kitchen. The rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging above the couch.
The fabric of the pillow rustled as I hugged it. The water bottle"s plastic etiquette shrieked as Nix peeled it off.
Finally, she looked up and frowned, the silver long gone. "What do you mean, you haven"t been honest with me?"
"I"m not a good person," I admitted.
The air was thick with tension, suffocatingly dense. Nix just stared at me, waiting for me to clarify, but there was nothing to clear up. I was exactly like that.
"Why would you say that?" she asked, retracting the hand resting on my knee. "Is this about all those
