Chapter 180: Madeline
“I will leave this table,” Reid warns, pointing his spoon at her like it’s a weapon.
“Do it,” she grins. “Run from the truth, coward.”
Jake mutters into his glass, “This is how people die, Charlie.”
But she’s already on a roll.
“Okay. So. When they were like, fifteen? Sixteen? They started working out seriously, right? Which was fine. Healthy. Whatever. Until it turned into this weird primal masculinity contest. Like… who could suffer the most and still get abs.”
“Oh no,” I say, instantly delighted.
“Oh yes,” she confirms. “It started with them arguing about gym sets, then it escalated to life choices. Like… ‘real men don’t sleep in beds,’ kind of nonsense.”
“They slept on the floor for three weeks,” Charlie says. “With no mattress. No pillow. Just, like, the smallest blanket.”
“No,” Liam wheezes, shaking his head.
“They gave up jackets, too!” she adds. “Said cold built character.”
“It does,” Jake says under his breath.
Reid glares. “You couldn’t turn your neck for a month.”
Charlie smirks. “Yeah, because you both got sick and sore and so dehydrated from only drinking black coffee that your mom cancelled your gym membership.”
That sends everyone over the edge. Even Sloane huffs out something close to a laugh.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, wiping tears. “Why would you do that to yourselves?”
“To win,” they say in unison.
Everyone laughs harder.
“You didn’t win,” Charlie says. “You lost your ability to function like humans.”
Reid shrugs. “We bounced back.”
Jake adds, “We were ahead of our time. That’s just low-budget ice bathing.”
“I can't believe this,” Liam chokes, wheezing with laughter.
“I’m crying,” I tell Charlie. “Please tell me there’s more.”
“Oh, honey,” she says. “There’s always more.”
Jake groans. “Charlie. No.”
Charlie points a spoon at him. “This one’s about you, loverboy.”
He sighs deeply. “This is slander. Whatever it is.”
“So, picture this,” she begins, and everyone leans in. “Valentine’s Day. Jake has this brand new girlfriend—like a week in—college girlfriend. She’s feeling bold, decides to surprise him. Shows up at his dorm room in full lingerie.”
Liam already has his hand over his mouth.
“I swear to god—” Jake starts.
“Let me live,” Charlie says. “She knocks, Reid opens the door—and he’d just come back from a trip so he hadn’t even met her—and this girl launches at him.”
“What?!” Finn screams, nearly dropping his cup.
“Oh yeah,” Charlie nods, eyes wild. “Full-on straddle hug. Kisses his neck. And Reid’s just standing there, like—”
“‘Who the fuck are you?’” Reid says flatly, reenacting it with perfect horror.
Everyone loses it.
“She screamed,” Charlie adds. “Ran away. She thought he was Jake and had snapped and dissociated into another personality.”
“He hadn’t mentioned he had a twin?” I ask, covering my mouth.
Jake just shakes his head. “Needless to say it didn’t last long.”
“That poor girl,” Liam says, wiping his eyes.
“She ghosted me so hard,” Jake mutters. “Like she saw Satan himself.”
Charlie claps. “Honestly, understandable.”
Reid shakes his head. “I still don’t know if I should be offended or flattered.”
“You were shirtless, weren’t you?” I ask.
Jake deadpans, “Always.”
We’re all howling again, and I swear it’s the loudest I’ve heard this house since I got here.
It’s one of those perfect, golden moments where everyone forgets the storm, the cold, the past. We're just laughing, limbs tangled over each other, stories bouncing around the room, the walls echoing with joy.
And god, I’m so glad I’m here for it.
After all the laughter and chaos, everyone slowly starts to clear the table. There’s a natural rhythm to it—people gathering plates, stacking bowls, stealing bites of leftover bread as they move around each other.
I grab a few glasses and head to the sink, already chilled from the cold water. My fingers are halfway submerged when I feel someone step up behind me.
Jake’s voice is low near my ear. “You enjoyed that a little too much, huh?”
I glance over my shoulder and catch the smirk he’s trying—and failing—to hide.
“You mean watching your teenage downfall unfold in 4K detail? What’s not to love?” I shoot back, grinning.
He huffs a soft laugh through his nose and lifts a dish to hand me, close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. His smirk deepens when he sees me smile at it.
I roll my eyes, but it’s impossible not to giggle.
Then he winks—winks—and disappears with the rest of the plates like nothing happened, leaving me standing there at the sink, warm all over despite the freezing water.
By the time I finish washing the dishes — or more like chasing grease around plates with cold water — my hands are stiff and raw. Still, it feels good to be helpful. The house smells like soup and melted butter, everyone’s full and quieter now, a little slower. The kind of sleepy that comes after comfort food and hours of being stuck together in stormy weather.
The power still hasn’t come back.
The twins lit up a bunch of candles while I was in the kitchen — fat ones and skinny ones, a few half-burned tealights, even what looks like an old Christmas-scented jar candle that smells vaguely like cinnamon and soap. They’ve placed them on windowsills, the coffee table, and in the corner near the front door. It’s enough to keep the shadows from swallowing the whole room, but not enough to stop my eyelids from drooping.
I dry my hands on a dish towel and yawn. I’m about to tell everyone I’m heading to bed — I haven’t looked at my phone since earlier and I don’t plan to. I don’t need to. I’ll call tomorrow to change my number. I’m not ready to see if there were more texts. Not tonight. Not when the night still feels warm and quiet and mine.
But just as I take a step toward the hall, Liam’s voice cuts through the room.
“Time to plaaaaay,” he announces, like a game show host pulling a lever.
I turn, confused. “Play what?”
“Games,” he says, holding up a box triumphantly. “Board games. I brought a few from the other house.”
“I’m too tired for that,” I say honestly, with a laugh.
Finn gasps, hand on his heart like I wounded him. “Don’t say that. We were all waiting to see if you’re smart outside the ocean.”
“Of course I’m smart outside the ocean,” I say, trying not to smile.
Charlie grins and wiggles her eyebrows. “Prove it then.”
I groan — but it’s already useless. I’m smiling. And the couch is warm, and the candles make the whole room glow like honey. This is safe. It feels like... something I could love.
“Fine,” I say, dramatic. “Let’s see if I can survive land logic.”
Liam cheers. Charlie scoots over on the rug and pats the floor next to her.
“You’re about to witness greatness,” I say as I plop down, and they all start laughing.
Even if I’m exhausted, even if there’s fear lurking somewhere under the surface, right now — I’m okay. And it feels really good to just play.