JOSH
Iโm sitting behind the front desk at the athletic center, scanning in a student ID every few minutes, making sure the picture in the database matches the person entering the building. The afternoon sun is streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows, making me tired.
Fridays are always dead here, especially during summer sessions, so I finally have a chance to study. Iโm wading my way through the chapter on research methods for my psych class, when I hear Coachโs telltale key chain jingling down the hall. I straighten up, take a sip of coffee, try to look more alert than I am.
As he walks up to the desk, he says, โBright and early Monday morning, yes?โ
โYes,โ I agree, โsee you Monday.โ โTell your father hello for me,โ he adds.
โWill do, thanks, Coach. Have a good weekend.โ
Iโve almost earned my way back into my coachโs good graces. He got me this work-study position for the summer, I think, mostly to keep tabs on me. Heโs tried hard to make sure thereโs been no time for study, no time for anything, except working my ass off to prove myself. Which has meant basically being errand boy for the whole department. Someone needs lunch, I go get it. A visiting bigwig donor or VIP needs to be picked up at the airport, Iโm their chauffeur. Gym equipment needs cleaning, Iโm the janitor. Struggling athlete requires tutorโthatโs me too. He did at least let me take the weekend to go home; I told him it was a family thing, and I was thankful he didnโt press me for details.
I guess I deserve the punishment, considering what I did.
But every morning when my alarm goes off at the crack of dawn for practice, I have this tug-of-war in my head. Between the part of me that
I’m aware Iโm fortunate to have this opportunity and I want to honor my commitment. I accepted the scholarship and joined this team, and I know it makes my dad proud. But part of me just wants to sleep in sometimes, to experience college as a regular student focused on education rather than a game I rarely enjoy.
Most guys on the team only take three classes each semester because there arenโt enough hours in the day, but Iโve pushed myself to take four this year, despite my adviserโs advice. This summer, Iโm aiming to squeeze in at least two more classes; otherwise, I risk extending my time in college, and I really donโt want to keep playing longer than necessary.
I knew there would be sacrifices and pressure, but feeling so burned out after two years, with still more to go, makes me want to walk away from it allโbasketball, school, everything. This morning, though, my psychology professor asked me something that stuck with me: she wanted to know if Iโd consider declaring a minor this fall.
โA minor?โ I echoed, surprisedโIโve barely declared a major. Sports medicine was Bellaโs idea during freshman year, and it seemed like a logical choice at the time since she was pre-med and made a strong case.
โA minor in psychology,โ Dr. Gupta clarified when she noticed my confusion. โYouโve already completed all the prerequisites.โ I realized I had taken two of her classes and another psychology course last semester to meet my social science requirement. With my AP Psychology credits from high school, I didnโt need any introductory courses to start in psych. Iโve always been interested in the subject, but it wasnโt part of a bigger planโit just kind of happened. So, I didnโt know how to respond.
โThink about it,โ she told me. โLet me know if you have questions.โ
But now that Iโm sitting here, really thinking about it all, Bellaโs argument was mainly thatย Iย played a sport andย sheย was studying medicine, so we would be able to take some classes together.
I take my phone outโshe texted me at the beginning of the week. The first time Iโve heard from her since we broke up in December. She wrote:
Are you on campus for the summer? Want to get a drink sometime, catch up?
Iโve been putting off responding because Iโd feel bad if I said no, but if I said yes, I can foresee what would happen. Sheโd take me back even though I hurt her, and Iโd let myself go along with it because we made sense on paper. And that rational part of me, the one that keeps my commitments even when I donโt want to, does sometimes wonder if I threw away a good thing with her. It wonders what wouldโve happened if I hadnโt answered Edenโs call that night. Iโm 99 percent sure Bella and I would still be together and I wouldnโt have found out about what happened to Eden and Iโd be blissfully ignorant about my dadโs relapse and I never wouldโve screwed up basketball last winter, and these last seven months wouldโve been smooth sailing, everything going as planned.
But even as I reread her text now, Iโm reminded of the things off paper that didnโt work.
She asked if I wanted to get a drink because she doesnโt even know I donโt like to drink. Because Iโd never told her. And I never told her because then sheโd ask why and Iโd also have to tell her about my dad and how the handful of times Iโve been drinking in my life, Iโve drunk way too much and ended up massively regretting it and being terrified that Iโm more like my dad in that way than I want to admit. Because even though we lived together and we got along and I genuinely liked herโloved her, I thoughtโ there still were things I could never say to her. Not like Eden.
I leave Bellaโs text sitting there and switch over to Edenโs text from this morning, the one that made me literally laugh out loud in the locker room.
At work rn, perfecting the art of latte foam design
She sent a picture of a wide-rimmed mug with the Bean logo from back homeโsheโd mentioned a couple of weeks ago she got a job there.
I know, I know. a lot of baristas go for the obvious heart or rosette, but my signature shape is . . . the blob.
Itโs very blobby (sp?). Starbucks has nothin on the Bean
thank you.
iโll make you my special vanilla blob latte next time youโre here
I keep debating whether I should tell her Iโll be home this weekend. We never did see each other again over spring break. She called, left me a voice mail, which I listened to way too many times over the last few months. She told me she wanted to see me. I gave her excusesโlost phone, broke phone, got sick, had to get a new phone, got busy, had to leave earlyโnone of which were lies, exactly, even if I felt like they were.
Sheโs been texting pretty regularly, but itโs all light and airy surface stuff like our communication is suddenly quantity over quality. Itโs never been this way with her before. I feel like something has changed but I donโt know what or why, and Iโm too scared to ask her about it. Thankfully, she doesnโt talk aboutย Steve, at least. I donโt think I could handle that yet . . . or ever.
I leave for home the next morning, stop for gas at the gas station I always stop at, twenty miles into the five-hour drive. I look up at the number on the pump. Two. The exact one I used the last time I was driving home, back in December.
It was snowing that afternoon when she called the first time and hung up. I was on my way to practice. She called and hung up four times in a row. I
deleted her number from my phone years ago, but I could tell it was her from one breath.
I tried to put it out of my mind as best as I could, but then later that night, we were sitting at our kitchen table, books all spread out, studying for finals, when her next call interrupted us. I answered, but she hung up again, three times.
โWhat the hell?โ Bella said, telling me on the fourth call, โJust ignore it.โ But I couldnโt. โEden, is this you?โ I answered.
And then she hung up on me again.
โEden, as in your ex-girlfriend Eden?โ Bella asked, setting her highlighter down in the binding of her textbook. โWhat doesย sheย want?โ
I shook my head and stood from the table. I called her back. I was getting so mad while I waited for her to answer and I didnโt even really know why
โbecause Bella was getting upset or because I was starting to care whether I heard her voice or not.
She answered but still wouldnโt say anything, and Bella was right there listening, so I told her not to call back. But then I was immediately relieved when she called a second later anyway.
โIs she stalking you or something?โ Bella hissed, sounding meaner than Iโd ever heard her before. โDoย notย answer that, Joshโ sheโs messing with you.โ
But I did. And when she finally spoke, her voice nearly crushed me. She didnโt sound right at all. She kept saying โI cared.โ I didnโt know what she meant, but then she repeated it. โI cared about you. I always cared about you.โ
Sheโd never said that to me before, and hearing it now, this way, it scared me.
โDid you know?โ she asked. โDid you know I cared?โ
I didnโt know what to say, so I told her the truth. โSometimes.โ
She went off about all these random things sheโd lied to me about and what a horrible person she was and how much she hated herself and how I should hate her too. She was being so cryptic and erratic and I was really hoping it was just that sheโd been drinking or something, but when I asked her that, she laughed and said no, and I could tell she was starting to cry.
Something was wrong. I didnโt know what, but I knew she wasnโt messing around. I tried to keep her on the phone, but I could feel her getting
farther and farther away with every word I said to her. I asked her what she needed, how I could help.
โYou canโt,โ she cried.
I started getting more than scared because she was winding down, or maybe winding up; either way, I was losing her, quickly. She was saying things like โIโm sorryโ and โI shouldnโt have called,โ and I tried to tell her it was okay but it was like she couldnโt even hear me anymore.
โI just miss you so much sometimes, and I wanted you to know that I cared. I really did,โ she said so quietly I had to cover my other ear just so I could hear her. โAnd there wasnโt anyone else. Ever. I hope youโll believe me.โ
โWait, Eden,โ I yelled, because I knewโshe was done. โDonโt hang up,โ I said, even though it was too late.
Bella was watching me as I paced our tiny apartment, frantically trying to call Eden back, leaving message after message. Weโd been together for over a yearโI was planning on taking her home with me over winter break to meet my parentsโbut sheโd never seen me like this.
โCalm down,โ she kept saying. โYouโre really overreacting right now.โ But I couldnโt calm down. And I wasnโt overreacting.
โYou donโt still love her,โ she said at first, suppressing a laugh. She didnโt say it like a question, though; she was telling me.ย Of course, youโre not still in love with a girl in high school who was never really your girlfriend in the first place. I was trying to tell myself that same thing. I could go months without having her even cross my mind. I was over her. But if that were really true, then how was it that she could call out of the blue after years, and I just crumble at the sound of her voice?
โYouโre not,โ she repeated when I didnโt answer. โJosh?โ
โWhat, God?โ I snapped at her, another thing sheโd never seen me do before.
โHey, donโt yell at me,โ she said, standing from the table. She walked over and stood directly in the path of my pacing, studying me. โWhy are you freaking out over this?โ
โBella, just give me some space. You donโt understand. Something is seriously wrong, okay?โ
โWell, help me understand, then.โ So practical, she waited, standing there in front of me, like I couldย explainย Eden to her. Like this was one of our
Advanced Calculus problems we could figure out if we just put our minds together. But I could never explain Eden to anyone, not even myself.
โOkay,โ Bella said, crossing her arms as I stood there, silent. โI canโt believe I have to ask you this, but is there something going on with you and her?โ
โBella, come onโ was the best defense I could muster. Because of course there was something going on with us, there always had been. We never ended. We barely began.
โItโs not a trick question, Josh, just tell me the truth,โ she demanded.
The truth was too complicated, though, to be able to tell Bella, who, I was just realizing at that moment, didnโt understand thatย Iย was complicated too.
But the truth about us was also simple. Eden was angry and I was sad, and we shouldnโt have worked but we did. We worked like we werenโt too damaged to work. Maybe only sometimes, when other things werenโt getting in the way. Like all that sadness, all that anger. And other people and bad timing and petty teenager shit. Of course, there were also her lies. The secrets I always knew she was keeping from me.
But in spite of all that, I called her back anyway. I left my girlfriend in our new apartment in the middle of the nightโin the middle of a fightโ anyway. I remember thinking, even at the moment, I shouldnโt be willing to throw everything away for her. I shouldnโt be able to not listen when my girlfriend cries actual tears, pleading with me to stay. To feel her pulling my arm and to keep going anyway. To hear her, and believe her, when she gives me the first and last ultimatum of our relationship: โDonโt you dare go to her, not if you want to come back here.โ And to not even be able to say Iโm sorry and mean it. To close the door on her and get in my car anyway.
All because she called me. All because I was scared. Scared because it had suddenly occurred to me that maybe I was now the one who was angry and sheโd turned sadโtooย sad, maybe.
I left her a voice mail while I stood here at the gas station, in this spot, freezing, in the middle of the night. I told her I was coming and then I prayed to all the gods in all the universes that by the time the tank was full, sheโd have called me back and told me to turn around. I wanted her to be lying. I wanted her to call me back and tell me she was fine. She didnโt need me. She didnโt care. She never did.
I wanted to believe that her phone call was not her saying goodbyeโin a permanent way. Because, of the many things I was not sure about when it came to her, I was sure about that. She was capable of it. I donโt know why I knew that, but I just did. And even though Iโd gone without her for so long, I didnโt know if I could go on without her in the world.
โPlease, Eden,โ I whispered, the words coming out in a white cloud of cold. โJust fucking call.โ
The gas lever pops, and Iโm suddenly thrust back into the daylight, into the heat, the sun beating down on my neck and shoulders. I look down at my arms, goose bumps rising on my flesh, a shiver running down my spine.
I transfer the pump back into the cradle and watch as the numbers on the screen flash and reset to zero. I take a breath and try to shake off the cold I didnโt realize was still lingering in my bones from that night.
I get in the car and pull out my phone to text Bella back:
I donโt think meeting up would be a good idea for me. But I hope youโre doing well, Bella. Iโm sorry.
EDEN
The applications were garbage, I knew that. I submitted identical materials to every school, complete with a stupid boilerplate cookie-cutter essay my guidance counselor practically wrote for me, checking all the boxes, she said, of what these schools are looking for. I remember thinking, fleetingly,ย What about what Iโm looking for?
All except for the one application I didnโt think would matter.
For that one, I wrote something that probably shouldโve been locked in a journal somewhere away from the world. It was part apology to myself, part love letter to Josh, part victim impact statement to anyone who would listen
. . . all in the form of my essay to the admissions office at Tucker Hill University. It was overly precious and overly honest and dripping with metaphor and too many shiny words, but I was proud of it. All about second chances and lost time and regrets and feeling hopeful about the future. And I believed, I wrote with such confidence, that my future was there.
I meant it when I wrote it. It was a shot in the dark, a wish that was unlikely to come true. And the improbability of it actually happening made me feel brave enough to try.
It was the very end of January, and I was flying high off the knowledge that Kevin had been arrested and people seemed to believe me and I still thought that counted for something. I thought heโd soon be locked up and out of my lifeโout ofย allย our livesโ for good. I felt free. Josh and I had been talking again, before I left school, before Steve, before things got so much harder. And so I cranked out that essay in the eleventh hour. I had no idea that months later, still nothing wouldโve happened to move anything forward with the trial or that Iโd be feeling less free, less hopeful, with every day that passed.
I had no idea how any of this legal stuff worked, so when DA Silverman and our court-appointed advocate, Lane, explained that it wasnโt going to just be a trial that consisted of me, alone, against him, that it was the state against him and I was just one piece of something bigger, I felt so relieved. Almost powerful. Protected even. Because it was three against oneโme and Amanda and Genniferโfinally the odds felt fair. Strength in numbers. I imagined the three of us walking into some fancy courtroom like a gang or something from a movie poster: the ex-girlfriend, the little sister, and the girl next door, all tough and strong, arms locked in solidarity.
It was a nice dream.
But that feeling didnโt last. Because, as DA Silverman and Lane made abundantly clear when they explained the whole evidence collecting, hearing, and trial process: under no circumstances were we allowed to talk to each other about anything related to the case, Kevin, or what happened to any of us. Because we could be accused of . . . Iโm not sure what, lying, I guess, creating some mastermind narrative. Didnโt they realize Kevin was the real mastermind behind it all in the first place?
I barely remember the person I was when I wrote that essay. I thought about it twenty-four-seven, for weeks, until the cold, blissful realization washed over me: I could stop hoping. One look at my transcripts would ensure no one would ever read it.
Which is why Iโm having trouble processing the email Iโm staring at on my phone. It says Iโve been taken off the wait list and am being offered admission. I read the words ten times, but I still donโt understand them. This has to be some kind of mix-up.
I frantically search for their previous email.
Iโd barely read it the first time. My eyes scanned for the word โunfortunately,โ and then I immediately closed itโnever even looked at it again. But it wasnโt a rejection. They told me I was waitlisted. I go back to todayโs email. Yes, it clearly states:ย We are pleased to offer you admission for the fall semester.
โOh my God,โ I whisper.
โWhat?โ my brother, Caelin, says as he shuffles into the kitchen, where Iโm standing frozen, with the microwave door still open, my burrito getting cold, still in my polo shirt and visor from the Bean, the scent of coffee clinging to my hair and my skin.
โIโI got in,โ I stammer, looking up at him. โTo Tucker Hill University.โ
โHoly shit, Eeds.โ He smiles as I hand him my phone, and I realize how long itโs been since Iโve seen him smile. โSeriously, this is amazing. I didnโt even know you applied there. Tucker Hill is a really decent school.โ
โI know. Which is why I thought Iโd never get in in a million years.โ
โCongratulations,โ he says, and he holds his arms out like he might lean in to hug me, but then he stops short.
โWell, but itโs not like I can really go, can I? I mean, itโs expensive and far awayโโ
โEden, you have to go,โ he interrupts. โItโs really not that far away; itโs not even out of state. Itโs gotta be four or five hours, max.โ
โOkay, but itย isย expensive.โ
โOh, fuck money,โ he says, dismissively waving his hand through the air. โThereโs financial aid and scholarships, grants . . . loans.โ
โItโs so soon, though. I donโt have enough time to get ready, and with everything else going on.โ The trial is supposed to start in the fall, which we havenโt discussed, the two of us. What itโll be like for him to see his former best friend like that . . . his sister.
โYeah, thatโs all the more reason you should get out of hereโ you can come back when you need to,โ he says, conveniently not sayingย for the trial. โAnd you have over a month. Thatโs plenty of time.โ
โMom and Dad wonโt think this is a good idea at all. Me, being on my ownโthey donโt even trust me to borrow a car to get to work. And thatโs another thing . . . I donโt have a car.โ
โStop, stop, okay?โ He brings his hands together like heโs praying. โFirst, since when do you give a shit what they think . . . or whatย Iย think, for that matter?โ He laughs, and so do I, because, of course, thatโs true. โAnd you can find a car. Hell, Iโll give you my car!โ he shouts. โStop making excuses.โ
โYou need your car.โ
โWhat do I need a car for? Iโm taking the semester off,โ he reminds me. โYouโre doing this.โ
Iโm trying to picture how any of it could work, how any of this is not crazy. I let out a laugh and cover my mouth, shaking my head as I look down at my phone again. I suddenly feel giddy and nauseated with the overwhelming sense of possibility blooming in my chest.
โTucker Hill,โ Caelin says. โIsnโt that where Josh Miller goes?โ I nod slowly.
โSo, does this mean you and him are like a thing again or . . . ?โ he asks awkwardly.
โHe has a girlfriend,โ I hear myself automatically reply. Itโs the sentence that has been constantly running through my mind for months, even if thatโs not exactly what he asked. โI mean, weโre just friends,โ I conclude.
I bring my lukewarm burrito into my bedroom and close the door, open my laptop. I want a cigarette so badly, because Iโm feeling all these emotions bubbling up, fear and excitement and joy and dread, all fighting for top billing.
But I take a breath, slowly in, slowly out, and I open my email, double- checking, as if the message wouldโve changed from my phone to my computer. It didnโt. I follow the link to the English department grants and scholarships. English, Iโd said my intended major was English. I try to picture myself there, as one of the people in these idyllic pictures online. Maybe I could be that girl there, sitting under a tree with a blanket and a book, reading. Or that kid smiling in the lecture hall. I could be in that group of people walking together, talking, laughingโfriends. I close my eyes and try to dream it: big buildings and vast libraries, living in a real city.
And then thereโs the other part. I close my laptop. The Josh part. The whole Josh . . .ย thing, as Mara said the night of the concert.
Iโm picking at the salad on my dinner plate that evening, trying to find the right time to bring it up. Caelin keeps looking over at me, waiting for me to say something. Mom is reading on her phone. Dad, who barely speaks to me these days, is hunched over his chicken, eating in silence, as usual.
โSo,โ Caelin announces, โEden got some really good news today.โ
Mom looks up from her phone and brings her napkin to the corner of her mouth. โGood news? We could use some good news around here.โ
โUh, yeah. So, it turns out I got into Tucker Hill University for the fall.โ โWhat?โ Dad says, setting down his fork, looking back and forth between
me and Caelin like weโve been keeping some sort of secret. โI just found out today,โ I add.
โAnd you . . . want . . . to go?โ Mom asks, her words coming out slow and uncertain.
โI mean . . . ,โ I begin, but just the way she said it makes me feel like I shouldnโt want to go, like I donโt have a right to want it.
Caelin interrupts. โOf course she wants to go.โ
โRight, of course you do,โ Mom says, and I can feel aย butย coming next.
โThis is a good thing,โ Caelin says in my defense, bolstering my resolve just a little bit.
โYeah,โ I agree. โWhy do I feel like Iโm breaking bad news to you guys?โ
โNo, itโs great news. Really,โ Mom says. โJust somewhat unexpected.โ โOkay,โ I scoff. โAre you even happy for me at all?โ
โOf course!โ Mom says. โYes, of course we are. Sorry, Iโm just thinking of everything you have going on. You know, it finally seems like things are settling here for you, with yourย appointmentsย and your job and . . . and you have a routine. I just worry that a big change isnโt what you need right now.โ
โOr itโs exactly what I need. I already called my therapistโs office and I can keep meeting with her over the phone. I can definitely find another part-time job making overpriced coffee. And I can come back for the hearing, if it even happensโI mean, it could get postponed again. Why am I putting my whole life on hold?โ
Dad sighs loudly, shaking his head.
โWhat?โ Caelin asks our dad, and even I hear the challenge in his voice. Dad narrows his eyes at Caelin. โExcuse me?โ
โI said the word โtherapist,โโ I mutter under my breath. โI mentioned the hearingโI know weโre supposed to be acting like none of this is happening.โ
โEden,โ Mom says. โNo one isโโ
But Dad interrupts her. โSheโs gonna do what she wants to do. Why even ask us?โ
โWho,ย me?โ I say loudly, Caelinโs boldness catching, because Iโm so sick of Dad not talking to me ever since this all came out, likeย Iย did something wrong. โSo, you mean to say you actually want me here? Because you barely say two words to me.โ
โThis is . . . ,โ Dad starts, pushing away from the table, looking at Mom. โSheโs too young, Vanessa. Sheโs too young to go away. This is,โ he repeats, โthis is not happening.โ
โYou wonโt even look at me, seriously?โ I shout.
โEden,โ my mom says. โCalm down.โ โOh my God,โ Caelin mumbles.
โWhat do you want me to do here?โ I ask, and Iโm not even trying to control the volume of my voice now. โWhat, work at the Bean for the rest of my life, take a community college class every once in a while. I am capable of doing things, you know. This is something I want. I donโt know why youโre being this way.โ
Dad stands from the table now, heโs walking toward the door, grabbing his car keys.
And I finally say the thing Iโve been holding back for the last seven months. โYou think this is all my fault, donโt you?โ
He turns around, actually looks at me for the first time in months.
โWell, I didnโt ask for any of this to be happening. What Kevin did is not my fault, and Iโm sick of you blaming me every single day!โ I shout.
โYour father does not blame you.โ Mom stands up now too. โConner, say it,โ she demands.
Caelin stands up too, looking at my dad, then at me, as he says, โNo, he blames me, Eden.โ He pushes his chair in calmly and then goes to his room.
Dad turns back around, opens the door, and leaves.
โFor Godโs sake,โ my mom hisses. โEden, Iโll be right back. Weโll figure it outโlet me just . . .โ And then she follows after my dad. Iโm left alone, sitting at the table with four half-eaten plates of food.
โIโm going,โ I say to no one.
It takes me all night to work up the courage to text him. Ever since that conversation I had with his dad on their front porch, Iโve been trying so hard not to dump all my shit on him. Been trying so hard to be there in caseย heย needed me for a change. Iโve tried to ask him so many times how heโs doing, but he hasnโt opened up to me at all. Iโve started to worry maybe our time has just come to an end. That weโve missed too many chances and have finally run out of them.
I lie on my back, staring at the blur of my ceiling fan, letting it lull me into some kind of weird meditative state. I have to drag my eyes away. I roll to my side, sit up, and take a deep breath, pulling up our texts for the millionth time. If I wait any longer, itโs going to be too late and Iโll have to do this all over again tomorrow.
I know itโs late . . . but can I call?
My phone immediately vibrates in my hand.
JOSH
It rings too many times before she answers, my head already swirling with all kinds of terrible scenarios, too much adrenaline racing through my body.
โHey,โ she says quietly. โHi. Whatโs wrong?โ
She laughs, saying, โOkay, why is โwhatโs wrongโ the first thing you say to me?โ
I try to analyze her voice. โSorry. Itโs just in all the years Iโve known you, youโve only ever called me when somethingโs wrong.โ
โIs that true?โ
โOh, I donโt know,โ I mumble, not wanting her to feel bad, not wanting to think about that phone call again.
โWell, nothingโs wrong, I justโโshe inhales deeply and breathes out slowlyโโwanted to talk to you. Is that okay?โ
โOf course. I told you, call me anytime.โ
โI know you said that, butโokay, thank you.โ She pauses. โUm, is your girlfriend there?โ
I never did get around to telling her that weโd broken up. There never seemed to be a time when it wouldnโt come out like I donโt have some ulterior motive of trying to get her to be with me.
โWill she get upset that Iโm calling so late?โ
โWell,ย Iย calledย you, so . . .โ I switch the phone to my other ear, like that might help me think better. โWhy, would your boyfriend be upset?โ I ask her instead.
โYeah, probably.โ She laughs that perfect laugh of hersโher real one. โIf he were still my boyfriend.โ
โOh,โ I breathe.
She laughs again, waiting for me to join her, but I canโt.
โWait, is that true?โ I ask before my heart gets too carried away. โYouโre not together anymore?โ
โYeah,โ she answers. โI mean, yes, itโs true. No, weโre not together anymore.โ
โOh,โ I repeat.
โJosh?โ
โSorry. Um, no, the only one whoโd be upset weโre talking right now is Harley.โ Now itโs my turn to wait for her to laugh, but she doesnโt. โYou know, my cat . . . Harley Quinn? Never mind. Iโm, uh, actually home right now.โ
โHome like at your parentsโ?โ she asks. โYeah, just for the weekend.โ
โYou werenโt gonna tell me?โ โOh, itโs just a short trip.โ
โBut . . . were you going to tell me?โ
โWell, I wasnโt sure Iโd have the time to see you, so . . .โ I drift off, hoping sheโll say something, because how am I supposed to tell her the truth?ย Iโm not sure I trust myself to be around you.
โEden?โ
โYeah, no, Iโm here,โ she says gently. โWhat if . . . ?โ
โWhat if what?โ
โWhat if we talked in person instead?โ I ask her. โCould I come over?โ
I hold my breath through the silence on the other end of the line. Sheโs never let me come over before. I donโt know why I even asked. I shouldโve just invited her here.
โItโs okay if you donโtโโ I start, but she interrupts. โCome over.โ
I changed my T-shirt and brushed my teeth, and less than ten minutes later, Iโm pulling up outside her house. In all the time Iโve known her, I never once picked her up or dropped her off here, never went inside. Her house is really dark, but as Iโm pocketing my car keys and walking up the driveway, the front porch light turns on.
She opens the door as I approach, stepping outside in bare feet. She smiles and steps down to meet me just as Iโm stepping up, and we kind of
awkwardly hug on the stairs, both of us falling into each other and wobbling.
โHi,โ she murmurs as she pulls away and steps aside. โSorry, I went in for that hug a little too ambitiously, I guess.โ
โI donโt mind ambitious hugs if theyโre from you.โ
That was literally one of the stupidest things Iโve ever said in my life, but sheโs wearing shorts againโthis time soft pajama-type shorts, and I can see thereโs a matching tank top, which sheโs wearing underneath an oversize hoodie and Iโm having a hard time thinking of anything but that. I follow her inside, trying to conjure up some modicum of chill.
There are shoes lined up in the entryway, so I take the cue and remove mine.
โThanks,โ she says quietly as she stands there shifting her weight from foot to foot, scratching her thigh, looking over her shoulder. She seems oddly, tangibly uncomfortable in her own house. Or maybe she can tell that Iโm nervous, and itโs making her nervous too. โMy parents are upstairs,โ she adds, not quite whispering but letting me know we need to be relatively quiet.
โOh, okay,โ I say, nodding.
โIโm this way.โ She leads me into the living room and down a hallway where I can hear muffled TV sounds coming from one of the rooms, a thin line of light under the door. โMy brother,โ she explains. I momentarily flash back to the New Yearโs party my senior year. Rumors had been flying about Eden, and I was trying, unsuccessfully, since I was drunkโthe first time in my life I ever drankโto explain that those rumors were just lies. Looking back, Iโm sure I only made it worse. So then, when her brother confronted me later that night, I tried to tell him that she wasnโt just some hookup to me, but before I could fully explain that I really loved her, heโd already knocked me to the ground. My first fight. My first black eye. My first hangover.
She closes the door behind us, and I try to take a quick look around without being too obvious. Everythingโs very minimal and sparse, more like a showroom than a real room. โSo, this is it, my bedroom.โ
โItโs different than I thought it would be, somehow.โ
She looks around like sheโs seeing it for the first time as well. โI mean, itโs nice,โ I backpedal.
โNo,โ she says. โI know itโs weird. Thereโs not much of me in here anymore.โ
Iโm not sure what that means, and I guess it shows on my face because she explains.
โMy mom, like, went on this IKEA spree and just totally got rid of everything that had been here before. Repainted and made everything very .
. . gray. I guess I havenโt really spent much time putting my own touches back in. Except for my lamp,โ she says, moving toward her desk to turn on this small stained-glass lamp, which is the only source of color in the entire room. โI found this at a thrift store. Iโm very proud of it. But Iโm rambling. Sorry. I guess Iโm nervous.โ
โItโs okay, I might be a little nervous too.โ I pause. โBeing here for the first time makes me feel like Iโm in high school again.โ
She releases a short laugh. Then she reaches around me to turn off the light switch at the wall. The overhead light goes out, and her desk lamp casts a kind of yellow glow around the room. โThere, thatโs better,โ she says. โNot so bright.โ
โYeah,โ I agree, watching her as she stands in front of me in the dim light now, looking even more . . .ย captivating, is the word that keeps flashing through my mind.
โIโve never had anyone in here. I mean, Mara, obviously. But Iโve never had aย boy,โ she whispers through cupped hands, โin my room like this. Before.โ She inhales deeply and says, โSorry, that was supposed to be cute or funny or something.โ
โNo, it was,โ I tell her, but really, Iโm thinking aboutย Steve. Was he really never here, and what does that mean?
โUm. Do you wanna sit or, oh, do you want something to drink?โ โIโm fine,โ I tell her. โItโs okay.โ
She says, โOkay,โ but sheโs still twirling her fingers around the drawstrings of her hoodie, which she clearly threw on over her pajamas right before I got here. And something about that sends my mind off in the wrong direction again. I have to look away.
โShould we start over?โ I ask. โProper hug?โ She nods.
โYeah? Okay. Come here.โ I hold my hands out, and she takes them, moves toward me, and clasps her arms around my waist. I let my arms fold around her and rest my chin on top of her hair, which smells amazing as
usual. She presses her face against my chest and holds on so tight. She keeps taking these slow, deliberately deep breaths like sheโs trying to calm down. Part of me wants to ask if sheโs okay, but itโs pretty clear she isnโt, so I try to breathe with her, try to calm myself down too. Gradually, her grip loosens, and we back away from each other.
โSorry, Iโve just beenโitโs just been a lot lately, but Iโm glad youโre here.
I always like talking to you in person better.โ
She hadnโt mentioned anything in our textsย being a lot lately, but I guess I havenโt exactly been forthcoming about my stuff either. We sit on her bed, facing each other, the same way weโd sat on that picnic table.
โSo, what did you want to talk about?โ Iโm asking, just as sheโs saying, โWhy are you home?โ As usual, we talk over each other.
โSorry, you first,โ I tell her.
โOkay, so why are you home right now?โ she repeats.
โItโs my dad. Heโs six months sober this weekend. Thereโs a ceremony, and then weโre doing a family celebration sort of thing.โ
โOh. Wow, six months. Thatโs a big deal, right?โ
I nod. โYeah. I mean, Iโve seen him get his six-month chip quite a few times before, but . . .โ
โBut what?โ
โIโll probably regret saying this, but something does feel a little different with him this time.โ
โGood,โ she says, with this slow blink, like she really means it. โI donโt know, Iโm being cautiously optimistic, I guess.โ
โIโm really glad, Josh. You deserve that.โ โIย do?โ I ask.
โYeah, you deserve to have your dad healthy and . . . and there for you. I mean, I know how much this has hurt you over the years.โ She reaches out and takes my hand, inching closer to me, and I catch this sheen falling over her eyes. โI justโโshe pauses to close her eyes for a momentโโI want it to be different for you this time too.โ
I reach out and take her other hand now, thinking I may finally understand something important about her that Iโm not sure Iโve fully realized before. She spent so much of our relationship hiding her emotions becauseย thisย is how she feels thingsโdeeply, completely. That and this: she really has always cared.
โEden,โ I begin, but I donโt have anything else to say, so I settle on โthank you.โ
โIโm sorry about the phone call,โ she says. โI was just surprised that you didnโt mention youโd be here. Itโs not like youย haveย to tell me every time youโre going to be in town.โ
โNo, I wanted to tell you.โ I move a little closer to her now too. โBut things have felt . . .โ I try to find the right word. โStrained. Since last time. Or maybe itโs just me, I donโt know.โ
โItโs not just you.โ
Thereโs a silence that I feel itโs my turn to fill.
โIโve gotta be honest, it was hard to see you with another guy. But more than thatโI just felt like maybe I should try to leave you alone.โ
โNo,โ she says, squeezing my hands in hers. โI would never want you to leave me alone.โ
โWell, I thought, if youโve moved on, I should try to do the same, and maybe that would make things easier orโโ
โIfย Iโveย moved on,โ she repeats, her voice turning harder now as she lets go of my hands. โYouโre the one who has a serious girlfriend.โ
I shake my head as she speaks. โNo, I donโt. Thatโs notโitโs been over for a while.โ
โWhat?โ
โItโs over,โ I repeat. โSince when?โ
โSince I came to see you that night. In December. She wasnโt actually okay with it.โ
โYou lied to me?โ
โYes,โ I admit. She nods slowly, and I watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and then looks at her hands in her lap, her hair hanging down over her face. I angle my head to try to see her expression, but she brings her hand up to her forehead like sheโs shielding her eyes from the sun. โEden?โ I reach out and raise her chin until I can see her face . . .ย smiling.
โOh, donโt look so broken up about it,โ I joke.
She looks up now and covers her mouth. โNo, Iโm sorry. Iโm not smiling,โ she says, but sheโs losing her voice as she muffles a laugh.
โNo, youโre laughing!โ Which only makes me start laughing too because itโs so absurd. โWhatโs so funny?โ
โNo, nothingโIโm sorry!โ She bats her hand at my arm. โStop it,โ she demands, but then she cracks up all over again.
โYouย stop.โ Her laugh is a drug. โYouโre the one laughing at me.โ
โIโm sorry, I donโt know why Iโm laughing. Iโm sorry,โ she repeats. โIโm not laughing at you, I promise.โ
โNo, donโt worry. Itโs okay,โ I tease. โItโs just my heart.โ
โOh my God,โ she sighs, pulling herself together. โIโm the worst.โ
I nod, pretending to agree, stopping myself from saying,ย No, youโre the best.
When we finally stop laughing, weโve somehow drawn even closer to each other. โItโs just that Iโve been obsessing about you and this, like,ย dream girl, and now . . .โ She shakes her head for a moment and then looks at me so intensely, her cheeks flushed.
โWhat?โ I ask her.
โI do care about your heart, you know.โ She reaches out and lets her hand hover over the center of my chest, her fingers barely touching my shirt. โA lot, actually.โ
I cover her hand with mine, pressing it flat against my chest. Weโre so close now, and I wonder if she can feel my heart pounding through my shirt. She inches toward me and touches my face with her other hand, the way she had the night of the concert, so softly. I turn my head and kiss her palm, and as her hand moves down to my neck, she pulls herself closer to me. She leans in and presses her lips to my cheek for a moment before pulling back to look at me. Her other hand tightens around the fabric of my shirt, and her eyes dip down to focus on my mouth. I watch as she takes this tiny sip of airโGod, I donโt know how I couldโve forgotten this detail. It used to get me every time, the way sheโd always take that little breath right before she kissed me. I close my eyes, and I can feel the warmth of her mouth, our lips nearly touching.
I can barely catch my breathโbecause this is happeningโ but then, as I wait for her to close this impossibly small distance between us, her hand loosens its grip on my shirt and presses against my chest now. I open my eyes to see her backing away.
EDEN
I am two people right now. The first one wants to throw herself into this, into him. Her tunnel vision is focused only on how good it will feel, how right, how pure and honest. But the second girl? She doesnโt see him at all, really. She has X-ray vision. For her, the room is so cluttered with all the things that have happened here, heโs barely even there. She sees beyond the freshly painted walls and the new furniture and the clean linens and everything in perfect monochrome order, all the scars hiding underneath.
One of us pulls him closer, the other one pushes him away, and I hate them both because neither of them feels likeย me.
โIโm sorry,โ I breathe.
โNo, I am. Did I just really misread this?โ
I donโt know what words to say to explain. I barely understand whatโs going through my head right now, but I take his hands and hold them tightly because thatโs all I can do. โYou didnโt misread anything. Itโs just . . . not here. I canโt. Not here,โ I repeat, glancing around the room as if the walls are watching us. I feel like they can do that sometimes.
โThatโs okay,โ he says, so gently, though he must be even more confused than me.
โIt happened here,โ I try to explain. โYou . . . you know what Iโm talking about, right?โ
I see the wave of recognition pass over his eyes. He squeezes my hands and nods. โYeah,โ he whispers. โRight. Of course.โ
โThatโs sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.โ
โOh,โ he breathes, straightening his posture. โOkay.โ โNo, notย that. Donโt worry.โ
โIโm not worried, you know you can talk to me about it.โ
I close my eyes and shake my head. โNo. I mean, thank you. But no. What I meant is I wanted to talk to you about the . . . theย hereย part of everything.โ
โThe here part?โ he repeats as if he might understand what that means if he says it out loud. โAll right.โ
โI know Iโm not making any fucking sense and Iโm all over the place.โ โItโs okay, Iโm following,โ he says with a cautious smile. โMostly.โ
โIโm not trying to ignore what just happened. Or almost happened. I donโt want to forget about that. Iโmย notย forgetting about it, believe me, but
โโ I pull his hands toward me and lean over to kiss the backs of each of them. โCan we just put a pin in that for a minute? Or whatever that saying is. Because I really did want to talk to you about something.โ
โSure, we can do that. Yeah.โ
โOkay.โ I inhale and exhale, trying to get some of this tension out of me. In with the good, out with the bad, I tell myself, just like my therapist taught me. โYou know Iโve been trying really hard to make things work here.โ
He nods.
โBut itโs just not,โ I finally admit out loud. โAnd the more I think about it, the more Iโm pretty sure itโs not going to. Like, I try to imagine myself here a year from now and I just donโt even see anything.โ I pause to clear the thickness those words leave behind in my throat. โI canโt be here anymore. In this house, in this town. Too much has happened. I donโt fit anymore. I havenโt in a long time.โ
โMm-hmm,โ he murmurs, nodding encouragingly. โI can understand why youโd feel that way.โ
โSo, Iโve been thinking about leaving.โ
โLeaving?โ His eyebrows pull together, and he shakes his head slightly. โWhat do you mean? Where would you go?โ
โWell, what would you think if I applied to your school? Would that be weird for you orโโ
โTo Tucker?โ he interrupts. โAre you kidding? No, that would be . . .โ He pauses, searching for a word. โPerfect.โ
โYeah?โ I exhale. โReally, you mean that?โ
โReally, I mean it. Hundred percentโa thousand percent.โ
I try to stop myself from smiling like this, but itโs hard not to when heโs smiling at me like that. โOkay, Iโm really glad you said that because I did.โ
โYou did?โ โAnd I got in.โ
โWait, you got in?โ he says, too loudly for almost midnight. โAnd I think I really, really want to go.โ
โYou got in,โ he repeats. โSeriously, Eden?โ I nod.
โThatโs amazing!โ He throws his arms around me, and I suddenly feel freer already. โIโm so happy,โ he whispers into my hair. โIโm so fucking happy for you.โ
โYou are?โ I ask, hating how small and stupid my voice sounds.
As we pull apart, he tucks my hair behind both ears and holds my face in his hands for a moment, still smiling as he looks me in the eye. โDonโt ask me that; you know I am.โ He kisses my forehead quickly, a peck, sweet and chaste. He holds my gaze for a moment longer and then scoots away from me, this time with his back against the wall. I sit directly next to him now, my back to the wall, my arm against his arm, my leg against his leg.
Heโs suddenly so quiet.
โWhat are you thinking?โ I ask him.
He shakes his head and says, โI donโt know, a lot of things.โ โLike what?โ
โLike Iโm really proud of youโis that weird to say?โ
โNo,โ I tell him. But I watch as he swallows hard and looks around my room, differently than he had before. โWhat else are you thinking?โ
He turns his head to look at me, and he squints just a bit. โHonestly? Iโm mostly tryingย notย to think about you . . . in this room . . .ย him,โ he adds, his speech halting.
โSorry,โ I say. Because maybe it wasnโt fair to put those thoughts in his head.
โWhy are you sorry? I didnโt mean that like you shouldnโt have said anything about it; Iโm glad you did. You have nothing to be sorry about.โ
โLooks like such a nice room, doesnโt it?โ I say, and I donโt know if Iโm trying to make light or if Iโm genuinely asking. I wanted him to understand how much I need to leave, but itโs hard to watch him actively seeing my life the way it really is, the way no one else seems to get.
โNo, it doesnโt,โ he says immediately. โSorry, I just donโt know how you do it.โ
โDo what?โ
โLive in here . . . after everything.โ
โI donโt. Not really. I mean, I canโt sleep in here very well. Itโs a brand- new bed, but I still end up on the couch most nights. Itโs better than before. All through high school, I literally slept on my floor in a sleeping bag. Iโ Iโve never told anyone that.โ
He exhales a long stream of air and puts his arm around me. I let myself lean into his side. โThe only time I slept in a real bed was at Maraโs house orโโ
โOr what?โ he asks.
โOr when I was with you,โ I finish, stealing a quick glance up at him, and heโs watching me with the most devastated look on his face. โSorry.โ
โDonโt be.โ
โI donโt know why Iโm saying all this right now. Iโm really tired.โ I sigh. โI know Iโm rambling and making this all weird and negative, arenโt I?โ
โNo, youโre not. Please donโt say that, okay?โ
Before I can answer, heโs shifting away from me, and I think for a second that maybe I really have messed this up, but then heโs lying down, his head on my pillow, and heโs holding his arm open to the side. โCome here, Iโll stay till you fall asleep.โ
โReally?โ
โIf thatโs okay, yeah.โ
I nod and crawl into the space next to him. โComfortable?โ he asks.
I sit back up because my hoodie is making me too hot. I only put it on because I was in pajamas and not wearing a bra, but that seems so silly now, so I unzip it, and he helps me pull my arms out of the sleeves. I lie back down, resting my head in that perfect spot Iโve tried to find on so many other people but has never felt quite like this.
โWant me to turn the light off?โ he asks, reaching toward my desk for the stained-glass lamp.
โNo, donโt.โ It comes out too fast, and he draws his hand back, almost startled. โI mean, do you mind if we leave it on?โ
โThatโs fine,โ he says softly. โIs that a thing you do? Keeping the light on?โ
โIโm not, like, scared of the dark,โ I try to explain, raising my head to look at him. โI just sort of am in here, thatโs all. Yet another thing Iโve never told anyone.โ
He doesnโt speak, just nods. I lay my head back down, let my arm rest across his stomach while his fingers trail up and down my bare skin like a lullaby.
โEden?โ he says so quietly I can barely hear him. โCan I ask you something?โ
โOkay.โ
His chest rises as he fills his lungs with air, and I can feel his heart beating faster beneath me. โWhen we were together, did I ever . . . ?โ He pauses, and I wait. โI mean, I realize our relationship moved really fast and it started out very, umโโ
โSexual?โ I offer, since this is clearly difficult for him.
โI was going to say physical, but yeah.โ He pauses again and swallows before continuing. โAnd you were younger than I thought you were.โ
โBecause I lied to you.โ
He ignores that, continues as if I hadnโt said anything. โDid I ever do anything that wasnโt okay with you or that made you feel . . . ? I mean, did I ever not listen or pressure you toโโ
I see where heโs going with this, so I cut him off. โJosh,ย no.โ
โNo, donโtโโ he says, and the way his voice is trembling, I have to look at him. โDonโt just say what you think I want to hear. I really need to know the truth. Itโs killing me,โ he adds, his words punching me in the heart.
โI am telling you the truth.โ
โSometimes I think back and Iโm not sure anymore how well I treated you. Itโs just, I knew something was wrong. Even the first time we were together. I knew, but I didnโt do anyโโ
โWhat were you supposed to do? You tried to ask me about it, and I basically told you to fuck off.โ
โBut Iโโ
โStop. You neverย everย did anything wrong; I promise.โ When I reach to touch his face, he takes my hand and holds it there against his cheek, looking into my eyes.
โYou promise,โ he repeats. โReally?โ
โI do.โ He lets go of my hand, and I lie back down against him. โPlease, donโt even think that for a second, Josh. If anything, it was the opposite.โ
โOkay,โ he whispers, stroking my hair with one hand and holding my arm with the other. โIโll let you sleep, Iโm sorry.โ
โItโs all right.โ
He doesnโt think I hear it when he whispers, a few minutes later, โThank you.โ
JOSH
I stare at her ceiling for I donโt know how long. I should feel better, finally having my answer, but her words keep replaying in my head.
โThe opposite,โ I hear myself say out loud. โWhatโs the opposite?โ โHmm?โ she mumbles.
โYou said โif anything, it was the opposite,โ but what does that mean?โ
โOh,โ she breathes, her voice already heavy with sleep. โI donโt know. You always made me feel . . . safe. Too safe, maybe.โ She lets out the tiniest laugh. โKind of ruined me for anyone else.โ
โI donโt know how to take that,โ I whisper, but I cling to that small laugh. โItโs justโyou know, no one else is like you.โ
Within seconds her breathing turns slower, deeper, as she drifts to sleep. โNo one else is like you, either,โ I say, even though I know she wonโt
hear me.
The next thing I know, Iโm opening my eyes, and I can tell Iโve been out for a while. Edenโs still asleep, her leg draped over mine now. I move slowly, reaching into my back pocket for my phone. Itโs almost four oโclock. I shift her leg first, then, as carefully as I can, slip my arm out from behind her neck. I donโt want to wake her, but I donโt want to just leave, either. On her desk, near the lamp, thereโs a stack of sticky notes and a jar of markers and pens.
To be continued . . . Sleep well, J
I cover her with the knit blanket thatโs folded over the back of her chair and place the note on the pillow next to her.
I tiptoe through her house in the dark, barely even breathing. I donโt know who would be worse to run into in the middle of the night: one of her parents, who have no idea who I am and might think Iโm some kind of intruder, or her brother. I make it to the entryway, where I scoop my shoes up and carry them the rest of the way. Itโs not until I close the door behind me that I finally let myself exhale. I lean against the railing and try to balance myself while I slide my sneakers back on.
โHey, Miller.โ
โJesus fuck!โ I nearly fall down the steps when I look up and see her brother sitting there in the dark.
โSorry,โ he says. โI was trying toย notย scare you, actually.โ
โNo, itโs fine,โ I say, struggling to get my other shoe on quickly, just in case I need to make a break for it. โUm, I know what this probably looks like, but Iโm not sneaking out or anything like that.โ
He laughs slowly. โYeah, this is a little awkward, huh?โ he mutters as he lights up a cigarette, illuminating his face, and thatโs when I realize heโs got a whole collection of bottles next to him.
โYou all right, man?โ I ask him, because he looks rough as fuck. Nothing like the MVP, voted-most-likely-to-be-an-NBA-all-star-by-the-age-of- twenty guy I used to play with in high school; he barely even resembles that guy who beat me up at the New Yearโs party.
He shrugs. โYou want one?โ he asks, nearly dropping the bottle of beer heโs trying to hand me. If I ever needed motivation to not drink again, this might just be it.
โNo, Iโm good. Itโs late; I should probably get home.โ He nods and opens the bottle for himself instead.
โGood seeing you, though,โ I tell him, even though itโs actually sort of horrible seeing him. Like this, anyway.
โMiller?โ he says, as I take one step off the porch. โDid you know?โ
I donโt need to ask him what heโs talking about. โNo, I didnโt know. I wish I had, honestly.โ
โIs she okay, do you think?โ
Iโm not sure what to say, but I try to answer anyway. โI think sheโs . . . doing her best. You should ask her yourself,โ I add.
He nods but doesnโt say anything. I raise my hand to wave and take a step away from him. โHey, for the record, Josh . . . ,โ he calls after me. โIโm sorry for punching you in the face that time.โ
โItโs all right,โ I tell him. I take another step but stop and turn around again. โYou know, I really do care about her. I always have. It was never what you thought.โ
Caelin nods again and stands, taking a couple of unsteady steps toward me, extending his hand. And as I take it, he reaches around me to pat my back, much like weโd have done after a game back in the day. โIโm glad she has you . . . as a friend, or whatever,โ he says.
โYeah, well, Iโm glad I have her too,โ I tell him, hoping heโll remember this conversation in the morning. โTake care, all right?โ
โYep. Later.โ
By the time Iโm pulling away from the house, heโs already inside.
EDEN
We stand in my driveway. All of us. Like the farewell scene inย The Wizard of Oz. Except instead of ruby slippers, my magical transport is a borrowed beige Toyota. And, of course, Iโm not going home; Iโm leaving it.
Itโs amazing how fast time passes when youโre trying to get your entire mess of a life in order. I had to quit my job at the Bean, register for classes, find a place to live, get a new job, and cram in as many appointments with my therapist as I could. Iโm beyond exhausted.
But I did it. And now weโre here. Maraโs ugly crying, and, to everyoneโs surprise, so is my dad, and itโs harder to hold it together than I thought it would be, even after taking an extra pill. But I do it.
โEden, are you sure we canโt follow behind you?โ my mom asks again. โJust to get you settled in.โ
โNo, itโs okay. Really, I have plenty of help there. And Iโll be home again next month for the . . .โ I pause, meeting Caelinโs eye before he looks down at his feet. โHearing,โ I finish.
โAre you sure you didnโt forget anything?โ she asks, looking back toward the house.
โProbably, but I can always get it next time.โ
โWish we at least knew this Joshua person youโre going to be living with,โ my dad mutters.
โIโm not livingย withย him, Dad,โ I correct, not wanting to be too harsh, as these are probably the most words heโs said to me, or near me, since the dinner table fight. โWeโll just be in the same building.โ
โI know him,โ Caelin says. โHeโs a decent guy.โ
That seems to put my dad at ease, which sparks a tiny flame in my chest. Because why isnโtย meย knowing him, vouching for him, trusting him, good enough? My stomach clenches at that thought, extinguishing the fire before
it makes its way to my brain and I say something Iโll feel guilty for later. Thatโs not the way I want this to end. Or begin.
We all look at each other, then at Caelinโs car, filled to the brim with boxes and bags and my still-newish mattress wrapped in plastic and strapped to the top with bungee cords.
โWell,โ Mom says, pressing her fingers to the corners of her eyes. โI hate this.โ
โSo do I,โ Mara sobs.
I go to each of themโMom, Dad, and Caelin. I hug them and tell them I love them. Mara, my scarecrow, I save for last. โI think Iโll miss you most of all,โ I whisper in her ear.
โStop,โ she laughs, even as she whimpers, โI canโt believe youโre leaving.โ
โYou better visit me,โ I say through her hair in my face and her arms clasped around my neck, her whole body shaking with sobs as I hug her back.
โLet us know when you get there,โ my mom calls to me as Iโm pulling out of the driveway.
Iโm almost at the highway when I realize I donโt know where Iโm going. I pull down a side street and park. I see a text from Amanda from fifteen minutes earlier.
All it says is:ย ur really coming back right
I wonder if she was watching us in my driveway. I can feel the panic coming off those words. She means coming back for the hearing. When I asked the DA if I had to, she said they could make me. Though she used the word โcompel.โ I guess Mandy doesnโt know that. I canโt deal with her right now. I shake the chills out and copy the address from Joshโs text and paste it into my navigator.
Take a breath. Begin again.
Twenty minutes into the drive, I almost die when I swerve into the left lane while trying to check my directions. The truck driver I nearly collided with honks twice and gives me the finger. But after I make it past the city limits, Iโm feeling pretty good. The road is clear, and Iโm driving fast with the window rolled down, radio on, the playlist Mara made for me blasting all the songs I know by heart. I start thinking maybe this wasnโt such a crazy idea, maybe this could actually be a good thing. The sky is gray, but it seems just right. Like the perfect day to try to change.
I text Josh my ETA at the halfway point, when I stop for gas and a bathroom break. I keep the radio off for the second leg of the trip. I hadnโt actually gotten this far in my plan. I mean, I know classes start in one week and that Monday morning I have new student orientation and a campus tour with a group of incoming freshmen like me. And that my roommateโs name is Parker Kim, a second-year undergrad on the womenโs swim team, who lives in Joshโs building.
I slow down to the exact speed limit, try to prepare myself.
All our talks and texts have been strictly logistics. About the colossal shortage of student housing on campus and how all the apartment listings I sent him to check out for me were apparently in terrible neighborhoods and far from campus. About the vacancy in his friendโs apartmentโher former roommate just moved in with their girlfriend and she needed a new roommate fast, almost as much as I did. โItโs perfect, right?โ Josh had said. And I took it at face value, trying not to read too little or too much into him wanting me to be so close.
But for the past six weeks, throughout all the planning and preparing and back-and-forth, that almost-kiss has stayed pinned securely in place, not budging. The closest heโs come to giving me any kind of sign about what heโs thinking was when he sent me a link to a work-study job in the library, accompanied by some confusingly suggestive emojis.
You should apply for this. I remember you used to volunteer in the school library back when you were hiding from me . . .
And your
book club thing
I reread that text so many times, even had Mara analyze it. She was pretty sure he was flirting with me, but Iโm still not convinced. I did, however, apply for the job, and after a five-minute phone interview, I got it. Twelve hours per week. Iโd still have to find something else, but this would be a good start.
GPS says Iโm only two minutes away now. I pull over several blocks from the building, swish some lukewarm bottled water around my mouth, and pop a breath mint. I am rummaging in my purse when my hand makes
contact with one of my now three prescription bottles. One for depression, one for sleeping, and one for when Iโm actively having a panic attack. I consider taking another one, just to take the edge off. But instead, I apply a little lip gloss, pulling my windblown nest of hair back into a slightly less messy bun. Just in case. Of what exactly, I donโt know.
JOSH
I could barely sleep last night. Iโm sitting with Parker on the roof of our building, drinking coffee, even though Iโve already had way too much caffeine today.
โYour leg bouncing is about to drive me crazy,โ Parker tells me. โDo I need to cut you off?โ she asks, gesturing to the mug trembling in my hand. I set it down, and the coffee sloshes over the side onto the table. I check my phone. Again.
โShe should be here any minute.โ
โCan I just ask,โ Parker says, peering over the rim of her coffee mug at me, โis this weird nervous thing youโre doing anxiety or excitement?โ
Iโm not sure what to say because I really canโt distinguish between those two emotions right now.
โBecause Iโm getting some red flag vibes off you,โ Parker continues, but Iโm too busy staring at Edenโs last message, and Parkerโs voice drifts to the background of my thoughts.
โJosh!โ she shouts, snapping her fingers in my face. โSorry, what?โ
โSheโs, like,ย cool, right?โ she finally asks. โIโm gonna be living with this person, and your weirdness is giving me doubts!โ
โNo, sheโs great, really. Itโs me. Iโm just not . . .โ โCool?โ
โFunny.โ I force a smile. โNo, itโs just that we kinda left things unclear. About what we are. The lines between friendship and something more are just very blurred right now, and I donโt know what to expect.โ
โWell, what do you want it to be?โ
I shrug, wishing I could say with certainty that friendship would be enough. โI mean, Iโll take whatever she gives me.โ
โGreat, that sounds healthy. No drama there at all.โ โOkay, obviously, I want more.โ
She just keeps staring at me, a smirk stretching across her face. โYouโ is all she says.
โMe, what?โ
โYouย . . .โ She stands up and points her finger at me. โBetter not cause drama withย myย roommate. Because then that means thereโs drama withย me.โ Now she points at herself. โAnd I donโt do drama.โ
โI donโt either.โ
โUh-huh.โ She does not sound convinced. My phone dings. โSheโs here.โ
I jog down the first flight of stairs, Parker calling behind me, โRun, Josh- wah, run!โ Quoting the movie we watched in our American History course, where we were randomly paired to work on a presentation together. It took me a full year before I understood that she didnโt actually hate me. She likes to tease and poke and jab.
And as I knock on my door, stick my head inโโD, sheโs here!โโI wonder if Iโve made the best call in setting her up with Parker. Underneath, I know sheโs a nice person, but she can have such a gruff exterior sometimes.
โYeah, Iโm coming,โ Dominic yells as I close the door. I stop and wait for Parker to catch up.
โWhat?โ she says.
โItโs justโyouโre gonna be nice to her, right?โ I try to ask as gently as possible.
โIโm always nice, you dick.โ
โOkay, but sheโs got a lot going on andโโ
โMost girls do,โ she says, cutting me off. โJosh, listen. I can read between the lines. I get it. Iโll be nice to her.โ And for the first time maybe ever, thereโs no hint of sarcasm in her voice, no shadow of a grin on her face. โJust donโt try to control so much.โ
โAll right,โ Dominic says, appearing in the hallway between us, clapping his hands. โIโm ready. Letโs do this.โ
โOkay,โ I sayโto both of them.
I walk down the next flight of stairs, forcing a slower pace, because Parkerโs right, I canโt try to control what happens next. Outside, I see Edenโs brotherโs car parked on the street in front of our building; itโs easy to
spot, overflowing with a mattress strapped to the top of the car. But I donโt see Eden. I bend down to look through the passenger-side window. Her phoneโs sitting there in the cupholder, the lamp from her bedroom sticking out of the top of a bag on the floor.
โRelax,โ Parker sings from behind me. โBesides, I think thatโs her over there, isnโt it?โ
I follow the direction Parker is looking, across the street, at a girl standing at the crosswalk. She has her hair pulled back and is wearing sunglasses, the strap of her bag pulled across her body, and sheโs carrying a tray of drinks from the cafรฉ on the corner. At first I donโt recognize her. I donโt know why exactly. I guess I was expecting her to seem out of place here, expecting to have to help her get acclimated, protect her, even. But she already looks like she belongs, like sheโs always been here. The traffic light changes, and she starts walking toward us, waving when she spots me.
โHi!โ she says as she approaches us. โI come bearing frozen cappuccinos.โ
Parker steps forward and says, โOh, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, I can tell already.โ
โYou must be Parker,โ Eden says, raising her sunglasses with her free hand.
โAnd you must be Eden.โ Parker moves in with open arms but stops. โAre you a hugger?โ
โUm, sure,โ Eden says, her eyes flashing to mine just for a moment. โYeah.โ
โIโve heard so much about you,โ Parker says, giving Eden a hugโ something Iโve never seen Parker do with anyone before. โWelcome to the building, to Tuck Hill, youโre gonna like it here, I promise.โ
โThank you,โ Eden says. โIโm glad to be here.โ
โHello again, dear,โ Dominic adds, not even hinting at any of his many misgivings he hasnโt been shy about sharing with me, as he pulls Eden into a brief one-armed hug. โIโll gladly take one of those off your hands.โ
โGood to see you again,โ she tells him as she hands him one of the drinks sheโs carrying, giving one to Parker as well.
And then her eyes meet mine. She smiles so brightly, I literally cannot find any words to say except โHey, you.โ
We step toward each other on the sidewalk, and as I put my arms around her, Parker takes the drink tray from Eden. And now I feel both her hands
pressed against my back, pulling me in. I allow myself to savor it for a moment, but because I would stay like this all day if we could, I let go first.
EDEN
I follow Parker up the stairs into my new life. Sheโs talking without any trouble the whole two flights, while Iโm struggling to catch my breath. I guess it must be her swimming lungs. Or maybe Iโve been holding my breath so long, I donโt know what itโs like to breathe easily anymore.
โLaundry room is in the basement. Josh and D stay on the floor above us,โ sheโs saying as she leads me down a long narrow hallway. โOh, and after this, remind one of us to show you our spot up on the roof.โ
โOkay,โ I manage to get out.
At the very end of the hall, she says, โHere we are, 2C. Home sweet home.โ
Part of me also wonders if my racing heart is me not being used to stairs or my anxiety meds wearing off or if it might just have something to do with Josh and the rush of finally being able to hug him, touch him, in the daylight, in public, without fear of who might see us and what they might think or if Iโm doing anything wrong or pretending itโs something itโs not.
She pushes the door open and holds her arm out, gesturing for me to walk in first. Itโs a large, bright, open room. With windows on two walls. A well- worn formerly vibrant red couch sits in the middle. A small table with mismatched chairs in the corner. A tiny kitchen with old white appliances and a narrow bar that separates the space.
โI know itโs not much,โ Parker says as I look around. โItโs small, and we share a bathroom, but itโs still way better than campus housing.โ
โNo, this is . . .โ Itโs neat and clean and nothing like home. As I take a step, the old hardwood floors creak under my feet. โI love it.โ
โYour roomโs this way,โ she says, smiling as she leads me to a wooden door on the opposite side of the apartment. โMy old roommate left a few
things. Just a dresser, bookcase, desk, and chair. We can get rid of them if you want, but I thought Iโd leave it and see if you need any of them first.โ
Myย room.
The wooden floors continue, and as I cross the threshold, it feels like the room is drawing me in. Itโs smaller than my bedroom back home. But thereโs a large window with a tree outside it, and the old, chipped furniture is warm and inviting. I run my hand along the top of the desk and feel the grooves of pen marks crisscrossed along the surface.
โWhat do you think?โ Joshโs voice says behind me.
When I turn back around, Parker is gone and Josh is standing in the doorway with two of my bags at his feet, cradling my little stained-glass lamp in one arm like itโs a baby.
Our fingers touch as I take it from him, the brass body of the lamp warm from his hands. I bring my lamp over to the deskโย myย deskโplug it in at the wall socket, and turn the little key-shaped knob to switch it on.
โPerfect,โ I say, turning back around to face him. He leans against the doorframe and smiles the way he always does. That perfectly imperfect smile of his. But this time it sparks something in me, like that key-shaped switch. Like Iโm seeing him in full color for the very first time. My feet are frozen in place. But in my mind, Iโm walking over to him. Because all I want to do is pull him inside the room,ย myย room, close the door, take his hands in mine, and put them on me. I want to kiss him everywhere, feel his mouth on my skin. I want toโ
โYou okay?โ he asks, picking up the bags and walking toward me like heโs definitely not thinking any of the things I am right now.
I swallow, watching his arms working so easily, so smoothly, as he sets the bags down next to the closet door. โYeah. Iโm just . . .โ I bring the backs of my hands to my cheeks. Theyโre flaming. Iโve always been attracted to him, but this is differentโthis churning inside me is like a gnawing hunger but deeper. I usually have so many firewalls up when I start thinking about him, the sudden vividness of this fantasy catches me off guard. โJust hot. Warm,โ I correct.
I donโt know what is happening to me. Is this just how I feel about him when Iโm not filtering my emotions and censoring my every thought?
He walks past me, his arm just grazing mine, as he goes to the window. โLet me see if I can get this open. All these old windows stick really bad in the summer.โ He unlocks the metal latch at the top and gives the wooden
frame a sharp jab before it squeals open, ushering in a fresh breeze, which hits my skin, cooling me down just enough to stop me from rushing over to him and acting out the things that wonโt stop playing in my head.
โThanks,โ I tell him, reaching out as he passes me. My fingers catch the sleeve of his shirt, my hand grasping his forearm as he stops. I want to pull him in, want him to reach for me too, but he stands there and covers my hand with his for only a moment before letting go.
โNo problem,โ he says, all nonchalant, and goes to the doorway as if I were really only thanking him for opening the window.
I make my way downstairs, feeling slightly dizzy as my senses attune to him, just steps behind me. All day long weโre in such close contact, passing in the hallway, squeezing by each other on the stairs. Every single time I want to reach out to touch him. But he doesnโt seem to be having the same problem at all, and I donโt know what to make of that.
The day is only getting hotter and more humid when I find myself alone outside. I take one last sip of my now melted frozen cappuccino and decide I can at least try to undo the bungee cords holding the mattress and box spring in place.
Standing up on the inside of the car door, stretching on my tiptoes, I reach under the mattress, trying to feel the spot where the two hooks connect. I canโt see it, but I can feel it right at the edge of my fingertips.
โDonโt be a hero, Eden!โ Parker calls out, suddenly behind me. โLet the guys get that one. Itโs not anti-feminist, I promise. Or if it is, whatever, I wonโt tell anyone.โ
โI got it,โ I say, even though I can feel my grip slipping.
โHere,โ Josh says as he comes up behind me. I feel his leg next to mine, his hand resting on my back for a moment as he reaches his other arm around me, his body pressed up against mine now. โYou almost had it,โ he says with his hand moving along my arm to the place where my fingers almost reach the hook. He pulls the cords closer and says, his mouth painfully close to me, โHold this side.โ He slips the hook into my hand and then reaches farther, pressing tighter against me, to unclasp the two.
My heart stutters at the feeling of his body on me like this. He has to be feeling it too.
As he steps down, I lose my balance. โOh, ya good?โ he says, normal as anything, as he places his hands on my waist to stabilize me. If I turn
around, Iโm afraid I wonโt be able to look him in the eye without kissing him.
And because I donโt think I should do that here, in the middle of the street, I just mutter, โYeah, all good.โ I keep my back to him as I slip under his arms. I go stand at a safe distance on the sidewalk with Parker while we watch the two of them maneuver my mattress off the car.
I run up the steps to hold the front door open for them, and as Josh passes, he says, โThanks.โ
I let myself look up for only a split second, and I can tell he has all these questions in his eyes as ifย Iโmย the one being weird.
As the door swings closed behind them, Parker snorts a laugh.
โWell, then.โ She breathes out an exaggerated sigh, almost a whistle. โYou could cut that with a knife.โ
โWhat?โ I ask, even though, of course, I know. She tilts her head and smiles.
I press my hands to my cheeks again, feeling the blood simmering under the surface of my skin. โUm. So, food?โ I say, instead of acknowledging what is apparently obvious to everyone around us. โIโm gonna order us some food. Whatโs good around here?โ
Thirty minutes later, weโre all on the roof with a large pizza and a two-liter of soda. Dominic brought up paper plates and plastic cups and hands them to each of us.
Parker says, โYouโre destroying the planet with theseโyou know that, right?โ
Dominic doesnโt skip a beat. โNo, the energy companies and big-ass corporations are destroying the planet. I am being thoughtful and making our hard-earned dinner a little more civilized.โ
Josh scoots over on the wicker love seat, making room for me to sit down next to him. โYouโll get used to their bickering,โ he says, smiling as he meets my eyes. It feels like the first time heโs even looked at me all day.
โNo, itโs nice,โ I say. And it is. My house has felt so dead these past months, with no one talking to each other. No one joking around. No one laughing. โThis whole place is nice,โ I add, taking in this little patch of space on the roof, filled with mismatched outdoor furniture, a patio table and chairs, potted plants.
With the sun finally retreating behind the taller buildings in the distance, a comfortable quiet washes over us as we sit with our slices of pizza. Until Dominic sees me trying to blot my oily fingers on a clean spot on my grease-stained paper plate.
โOh shit, forgot . . .โ He pulls a wad of napkins heโd had bunched up in his pocket and hands me one. โHere you go.โ
โMore paper products?โ Parker shouts through her last bite. โWell, you can just use your pants as a napkin if you prefer!โ
Parker holds both hands up in the air and then brings them down against her thighs, smearing them all over her jeans. Dominic stands abruptly, commanding everyoneโs attention, holds up one finger like heโs about to launch into some kind of serious monologue, but then his only response is โEw.โ
I canโt help but laugh, even though Iโm not entirely sure how much theyโre joking with each other. Next to me Josh exhales a short snicker but restrains himself.
Parker stands up with a satisfied grin on her face. โAll right, kids. Iโm gonna try to get in a swim before it gets too late.โ
โAnd I have a hot date I need to get ready for,โ Dominic says. โAnd by hot date, I mean a video call in my room.โ My confusion must show on my face because he continues. โMe and Lukeโyou know him, I think, Lucas Ramirez from school?โ
โOh yeah,โ I say. โHe was a year ahead of me.โ
โWeโre doing the long-distance thing for now. Trying to convince him to come out here like you did, butโโ He stops talking suddenly, and Josh sort of squirms next to me. โWell, I mean, not that itโs the same thing. Iโm not saying you came here just to be withโโ
โOh-kay,โ Josh interrupts. โDonโt wanna be late, do you?โ
Parker puts both of her hands on Dominicโs back, steering him toward the door. โWeโre leaving, but you two enjoy this totally unromantic sunset. Later, roomie.โ
โWow,โ Josh breathes as they clamor for the door, their laughter echoing after it closes. โIโm sorry about them. Theyโre being weird and immature.โ
โTheyโre fine.โ What I really want to say is heโs the one whoโs being weird and immature. โI like them.โ
I set my paper plate on top of the empty pizza box and lean back into the cushions, feeling all the tension in my muscles coming to the surface. But
the view is beautiful as the light hits the buildings that make up the small city of the university and then a landscape of rolling green hills just beyond. So much nicer than the flat monotony of back home.
The breeze flows over us and rattles the leaves of the nearby trees, cooling my hot skin and sweat of the day. This would be the perfect moment for him to kiss me, talk to me, do literally anything to me.
JOSH
Iโve been waiting to be alone with her all day, trying so hard to play it cool and not force anything or make it awkward, but now weโre finally here and Iโm not sure what to do.
โWell,โ Eden says. โShe wasnโt wrong about the sunset.โ
I turn to look at her, how sheโs watching the sky, the way itโs casting this golden creamsicle light over her, but the only thing I can think of as a response is โYeah.โ
She sighs and leans back, bringing her legs up onto the seat and crossing them beneath her. Turning her head from side to side, she sits up straight, then curves her back and starts kneading her shoulders with her hands. โGod, Iโm really out of shape,โ she says with a small laugh.
Thereโs nothing I can think to say about her shape that will not incriminate me in some way, so I just sit here, trying not to look at her.
โI guess Iโm not used to all the lifting and carrying,โ she continues, rolling her shoulders forward and back.
โOh, right,โ I manage. โJosh?โ
When I look up, sheโs stopped moving around and is now staring at me. โAre you okay?โ
โMe?โ I ask. โYes, why?โ
โI donโt know. Youโve been really quiet all day.โ She pauses. โDid I do something? Are you not happy Iโm here?โ
โNo.โ So my playing it cool has completely backfired. โOh my God, no.
Iโm happy youโre here; Iโm just trying to give you space.โ โWhy, do you want me to giveย youย space?โ
โNo,โ I almost shout. โItโs not that at all. You just got here, and I donโt want you to feel like thereโs any big rush to figure out what weโre doing.โ
โOh.โ She nods, seeming to think about this for a few seconds. โYeah, I didnโt get that at all.โ
โSorry,โ I mumble. โI probably shouldโve just come out and said that, huh?โ
โArenโt you supposed to be the good communicator in this relationship?โ she says with a short laugh, but then quickly adds, โI mean, notย relationship-ย relationshipโyou know what I mean.โ She reaches around to the back of her neck again, squeezing the muscles while turning her head.
โGuess Iโm slipping.โ I feel slightly more relaxed after getting that out in the open . . . and seeing her fumble through the word relationship. โDo you need a hand?โ
โYes, please.โ She pivots on the seat so her back is facing me. โI thought youโd never ask. Itโs like, right hereโโshe runs her hand from her neck to her shoulderโโwhere it hurts.โ
Her skin is warm as my hands dip under the collar of her T-shirt, and I have to exercise such restraint to not lean down and kiss that spot. I feel her whole body exhale and start to sway and melt under my hands. She makes these small moans every time I press down. Iโm glad Iโm sitting behind her so she canโt see how much her noises are affecting me. If I didnโt know her better, part of me would wonder if she was doing it on purpose to turn me on, but she doesnโt think like that. She doesnโt even know what sheโs doing to me. She never did.
โAll right,โ I say, stopping abruptly because I want this too much right now.
โOh, donโt stop,โ she groans, glancing over her shoulder at me. โThat felt so good.โ
โYeah, it was feeling a little too good to me too,โ I mumble.
โWhat?โ she asks, and I donโt know if she didnโt hear me or if she just doesnโt know what I mean.
I clear my throat, trying to decide if I should tell her or not. โN-nothing.โ โNo, what? Tell me.โ She twists around so that sheโs facing me now. โEden, youโโ I start, but I canโt help laughing. โYou were . . .โ
โWhat?โ she repeats.
โYou were making . . . sex noises.โ
Her mouth opens and she gasps, and I watch as her face flushes right before my eyes. But I can tell sheโs trying not to laugh too. โOh my God, Josh!โ
โWhat, you were!โ
โI was not!โ she shrieks, swatting at me before covering her face with her hands.
โYou were tooโI would know.โ
Her laughter fades as she keeps gazing back and forth between me and the last remnants of color left over from the sunset.
โSorry,โ I tell her, trying to keep the lighthearted mood going a little longer. โI could only take so much.โ
She sits back again and looks out at the darkening sky, shaking her head and letting out a little burst of laughter every so often. โSex noises,โ she scoffs. And then she turns toward me again. โUm, okay. So, speaking of . . . that,โ she begins. โIs it time to take the pin out, you think?โ
โItโs honestly your call.โ Iโm trying to keep the ball in her court, but itโs so hard to know when Iโm giving her too much space or not enough. โFor me, itโll hold. I mean, if you want to wait or need more time, we can talk about it when weโre not totally exhausted.โ
โRight.โ She sighs and then immediately yawns. โIt has been a big day.โ โYeah,โ I agree. โI guess we should probably go in, huh? Iโm sure you
have a lot of unpacking and stuff.โ
She nods as she stands, then holds her hand out to help me up. I take it, and we sort of loosely hold hands as we walk across the roof deck.
We reach my floor first.
โSo, this is me,โ I tell her. โWant me to walk you down to yours?โ โNo, itโs all right.โ
We stand in front of my door, and she moves in to hug me first, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck. โIโm really glad youโre here,โ I tell her one more time.
โSo am I,โ she whispers, her mouth close to my ear. โIโve missed you.โ She gives the side of my neck the smallest, faintest kiss before pulling away, leaving me with these shock waves radiating from my heart.
โOkay,โ I say for absolutely no reason, probably blushing and grinning like an idiot. โWell, you know where to find me if you need me.โ
She catches my hand as she moves away, giving it a tiny pulse before she lets me drift out of her grasp. โYou too,โ she adds, and thereโs something in her tone, in her smileโis she flirting with me?ย God, donโt tempt me.
โGood night,โ I call after her. She turns around when she reaches the end of the hall at the staircase and waves.
Inside, I can hear Dominic talking with Luke behind his bedroom door. I can still feel the press of her lips against my neck. I look at the time on my phone. Itโs only eight thirty. What the fuck am I doing here? Why didnโt I just tell her that I canโt stop thinking about her, that the only thing I want to know in the world is what sheโs thinking about us?ย For me, itโll holdโis that what I actually said? I mean, it will. Itย has. For months, years.
I realize Iโm pacing. I force my feet to stop. I go to the door, but my hand refuses to turn the knob. I should wait. I can wait. No, I canโt. I open the door and jog down the hallway, down the stairs, all the way to her door. I raise my hand to knock, but I donโt follow through. I start to head back the way I came but stop again. Go back. And now Iโm essentially pacing again, but in her hallway this time.
Sheโs right there, I tell myself.
I go back to her door. Iโm doing this.
I raise my hand and knock, too loud and fast.
Thereโs some shuffling on the other side of the door, and when she opens it, she looks surprised to see me standing there. Her hair is down now, sort of messy, and it just makes her look even more beautiful to me somehow.
โHi,โ she says.
I take a breath, bypass a greeting, and blurt out, โEden, would you please go on a date with me tomorrow night?โ
โA date?โ she asks.
โUh-huh. A date. With me. Tomorrow. Please.โ
She looks down at her feet and smiles, and it takes everything to keep my hands in my pockets and not reach out to move her hair out of her face.
โOkay,โ she agrees, finally lifting her head to look at me again. โOkay?โ I repeat.
โOkay,โ she says again, and lets out this small laugh.
โOkay.โ I start to back away and nearly trip over my own feet like Iโm a twelve-year-old and this is the first time Iโve ever asked a girl out.
โGood night,โ she says. โAgain.โ โGood night again.โ
She closes the door, and Iโm halfway down the hall, feeling completely reenergized after this utterly exhausting day of trying to watch my every move and word and thought. But I could run a marathon right now. I pick up my pace, preparing to take the stairs two at a time, burn off some of this excitement, when I hear a door click and snap behind me.
โJosh, wait!โ
I turn to see her skipping after me. When she reaches me, she stops quickly and takes a few fast, shallow breaths and stands so close, pausing for a moment before she reaches for my hands. โI just . . . um,โ she starts but doesnโt finish. Instead, she lets her hands trail up the length of my arms, to my shoulders to my neck to my face, where I can feel her fingers trembling slightly against my cheek, her thumb grazing my bottom lip.
She opens her mouth and it looks like sheโs going to say something else, but then she takes that tiny breath I love so much and tilts her head up to me. Her eyes search mine for my answer. I donโt think I could speak if I tried, but I nod because whatever the question, whatever she wants, my answer is always going to be yes.
Her lips are so soft as they part mine, her mouth warm, and as my tongue tastes hers, she kisses me harder. We breathe each other in, heavier and deeper and sheโs making those sounds from the roof again, and I canโt even believe how good it feels to be kissing her. Toย onlyย be kissing her.
My hands want her face and hair and arms and hips all at the same time. She holds on to my waist and pushes against me as I pull her closer, until weโre backing up into the wall, where my elbow lands with a thud. โOh,โ Eden breathes into my mouth as she places her hand between my elbow and the wall. And I have no idea why such a simple gesture should make my heart start pounding uncontrollably like this, but it does, and I want her to bring me back to her room so badly it hurts.
Someone opens their door, and we pull apart just in time to see the older man who lives in 2E poke his head out and mumble, โGet a goddamn roomโ before shutting the door again.
We look back at each other, and as much as I want to keep kissing her here, like this, for at least another few hours, we both bust out laughing.
โSorry!โ Eden calls in the direction of the closed door. โNot sorry,โ she whispers to me.
I shake my head. โDefinitely not.โ
She brings both hands up to my shoulders and pulls me down just enough for her to kiss me one more time, softly, slowly. Resting her head against my chest, she sighs, and I can feel the warmth of her breath through my shirt. She looks up at me, placing her hand over my heart. โTo be continued?โ she asks.
I nod, but I canโt speak, canโt move. Even as she backs away and takes her hand from me, I replace it with mine, exactly where hers was, not wanting the feeling of her touching me to be gone. She drifts down the hall, turning around once to smile. She covers her mouth as she lets out the briefest giggle and jogs back to her door. I stand there for at least a full minute, just in case she comes back. But as I make my way up the stairs, slowly, one at a time, all I can think is: this is how it always shouldโve been, how it shouldโve started between us.
EDEN
I spent all day sending Mara pics of every outfit combination I have in my current wardrobe, which is not that much. She kept saying I should wear the one dress I brought with me, but a dress felt like too much pressure for our very first real date. Thereโs enough pressure after waiting for this for almost three years, I donโt need to add any more.
So, I opt for the jean shorts I wore the night of the concert. Theyโre newish and I know I caught him checking out my legs in them that night. A simple T-shirt with tiny yellow flowers. Pretty but not sexy. Sandals. I shave my legs and armpits. Because, just in case. I try to follow this video Mara sent me on cute styles for shoulder-length hair. I manage something with a twist and bobby pins that looks decent enoughโfrom the front anyway. Lip gloss, mascara, bracelet, necklace, earrings.
He picks me up at eight oโclock on the dot, just like he said he would, and he looks and smells so good, I almost donโt want to go anywhere with him except back inside. But then he leans down and kisses me on the cheek, which makes me laugh for some reason. And when we get outside onto the sidewalk, he takes my hand, except itโs so tender and unexpected and honest that it makes me almost want to cry.
We hold hands as we take our time walking, smiling, and glancing over at each other for the entire three blocks it takes to get to the restaurant.
Nonnaโs Little Italy is the name of the place. Itโs small and dark and cozy, and I could smell the herbs and baking cheese and garlic and oil from the street. If comfort food could be an entire environment, this would be it. The woman who seats us does so with not many words, but she smiles warmly at us both when she hands us our menus. A second, younger man, comes by to leave a basket of freshly baked bread wrapped in the same kind of cloth napkin our silverware is tucked inside.
After we place our orders, Josh says, โSo?โ neatly pulling back the towel from the bread, like heโs trying not to rip wrapping paper on a gift. โHowโs the date going for you so far? And donโt let the fact that Iโve been trying to plan this basically as long as weโve known each other influence your answer in any way at all.โ
โWell, for starters, you showed up on time. Looking very handsome, I might add.โ I pause because, did I just sayย handsomeย out loud? I feel like I should be embarrassed, showing my hand so easily, but then . . . weโve waited too long for games. Thatโs something old Eden would do. So, I force myself to add, โThe kiss on the cheek was also a nice touch.โ
โOh, Iโm glad,โ he says, blushing. โI wasnโt sure that went over like Iโd hoped.โ
โNo, it did,โ I assure him. โAnd this place. You might as well have read my mind. Nonnaโs Little Italy might be my new favorite restaurant, and I havenโt even tried the bread yet.โ
He pushes the basket toward me, and I tear off a piece, still almost too hot to touch. But the butter melts into it perfectly. He waits for me to take a bite.
โAnd now that youโve tried the bread?โ he asks.
I take my time chewing and swallowing and open my mouth like Iโm going to answer him but then take another bite, which makes him laugh, which makes me all warm and inexplicably soft inside. โBest date Iโve ever been on,โ I answer.
โWow. Thatโs better than I thought,โ he says.
โWell, full disclosure. This is also kind of theย onlyย date Iโve ever been on.โ
โSteve didnโt take you on dates?โ
I had sort of forgotten Josh knew about Steve. In my mind, I was thinking more about the plethora of random guys Iโd hooked up with after Joshโthe ones I met at parties or other sordid drunk and high encounters. Faceless, mostly. Nameless. People I never saw again, let alone went out on dates with. โNot really,โ I finally answer. โBut not for lack of trying on his part,โ I add, in Steveโs defense.
Josh looks down at his plate, and when he looks back up at me, heโs sort of grimacing. โOkay, thatโs gotta be like first date rule number one, right? Donโt mention the other personโs ex. Jesus, maybe this is my first date too,โ he tries to joke, taking a sip of water.
โNo, itโs okay.โ But now that itโs out there, I feel obligated to say something. โSteve was a pretty good person. We just shouldโve only been friends, thatโs all.โ
Josh is nodding, and right as heโs about to say something, our food comes. We start eating in silence, and I worry Iโve somehow messed this up, but then Josh finally speaks. โSo, does that mean youโre still friends with him?โ
โYou mean like you and I are still friends?โ I ask. โSort of,โ he admits.
โNo. Weโre friends. But weโre not friends like you and I areย friends. If you know what I mean?โ
He smiles, both bright and bold, yet a little shy, all at the same time. โI think I know what you mean, yeah.โ
โGood.โ I twirl a bite of my pasta around my fork and stuff it in my mouth so I stop talking.
โAnd just so you know,โ he says, โIโm notย friendsย with anyone else right now either.โ
โNoted.โ And even I have to laugh at how nerdy and awkward weโre being. โThank you for the information,โ I add.
โYouโre very welcome.โ
Full of pasta and sauce and bread and cheese, we leave Nonnaโs, but when we get outside, Josh starts walking in the opposite direction from which we came.
โNot this way?โ I ask.
โThe dateโs not over yet,โ he says. โThereโs more?โ
โYeah, thereโs sort of a whole theme.โ
โI get aย themedย date?โ I ask, genuinely impressed, flattered even. โWhat is it, the theme?โ
โItโs more of a loose theme or . . . or a theme within a theme,โ he says, motioning with his hands as he tries to explain.
We walk about half a block, past some apartment buildings that look a lot like ours, with storefronts at the ground level that are closed already. Old trees line the streets here, their roots pushing up the cement of the sidewalk into tiny mountains that make the ground uneven. Josh reaches for my hand
again and I let him. But he keeps holding on even after we pass the broken parts of the sidewalk.
โWeโve never done this,โ he points out, interlacing his fingers with mine. โYou always used to pull away when Iโd try to hold your hand.โ
I nod. โI like it now. Itโs nice.โ But itโs more than nice. And I more than like it. I just donโt know exactly how to say that.
He smiles at the ground, and I squeeze his hand once. He squeezes back. Like some kind of private Morse code between the two of us. We turn on a dark corner and the wind suddenly picks up, blowing our clothes and hair. I have the distinct thought that I wouldnโt want to be walking here alone at night without him.
โWeโre close,โ he says as if he can tell what Iโm thinking.
We stop in front of a little shop I think is a coffeehouse at first, because the neon sign in the window saysย GREATER THAN > GROUNDS. As we walk in, a bell dings. Thereโs no one in sight, and when we step up to the counter, I see there are at least twenty different flavors of gelato lined up in the freezer case. The hand-lettered sign at the register says:ย COME FOR THE COFFEE, STAY FOR THE GELATO.
โMm, gelato for dessert?โ I ask.
โI took a chance,โ he says, half squinting, half side-eyeing me like heโs holding his breath. โYou do like gelato, then?โ
โWell, yeah. I like ice cream, so . . .โ
A girl pops up from behind the counter, proclaiming, as she straightens her glasses, โGelato is not ice cream. Ice cream is not gelato. Gelato is a thousand times better than ice cream. Itโs just a fact.โ
โI agree,โ Josh says, but he barely glances at her, this girl who kind of reminds me of myself in a weird way. Maybe itโs just the glasses and the similar hair and height, but I find myself imagining her as an alternate- universe version of myself.
She puts on a fresh pair of plastic gloves and says, โMy name is Chelsea. Iโll be your barista today.โ And then she sighs, like saying her name is the worst part of her job. โLet me know if you want to sample any flavors.โ
โThanks,โ Josh tells her as we peruse the selections.
I canโt help glancing over at her. Sheโs looking at Joshโof course, I understand whyโand when she sees me noticing, she pushes her glasses up, just like I always used to do when I was nervous.
โUm, can I try the pistachio mint?โ I ask her.
She shovels a tiny plastic spoonful and hands it to me across the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Josh is watching me put it in my mouth. โWhat?โ
โNothing. Itโs just, pistachio mint? What are you, a senior citizen?โ โItโs good! Here, try,โ I tell him, hovering the spoon in front of his face.
โGross, keep your old-person pistachio mint.โ The barista, Chelsea, sighs again, thoroughly unamused. Part of me wonders if sheโs looking at me and looking at Josh and wondering howโย whyโheโs here with me and not giving her a second glance when weโre so similar.
โCan I try the chocolate peanut butter?โ Josh says, either not picking up on the baristaโs annoyance or just not caring. She gives Josh his sample, and we both watch him as he presses the spoon onto his tongue and closes his eyes.
โChocolate peanut butter, really? Thatโs what does it for you?โ
โWhatโs wrong with chocolate peanut butter? Itโs a classic flavor combination.โ
โI know Iโm in the minority, but there are just some things that donโt go together.โ
The barista says, completely monotone, โOh my God, take it back.โ
Josh looks at the barista, then at me, and for a second I wonder if he sees it too. But then he says, โOkay, Iโm sorry, but this isnโt gonna work out after all.โ He turns like heโs going for the door, and I try to laugh because I know heโs joking, but then, out of nowhere, I collide into this wall of panic that rushes into me at the thought of him saying that for real someday.
I reach for him, but he floats through my fingers because theyโre going all tingly. Time seems to expand in the second he takes to stop and turn back around and pull me into his arms.
โJust kidding,โ he whispers into my hair. He looks down at me and kisses my lips, quickly. Time resets. Andย Iโm here, I tell myself,ย Iโm okay. I can keep myself here.
I see: Josh.ย I feel: Josh.ย I hear: Josh.ย I smell: Josh.ย I taste: Josh.
He brings his hand to my neck and tilts my face toward him. โYou know Iโm just kidding, right?โ he says quietly, sweeping his thumb across my cheek.
โYeah,โ I breathe, finding my voice again. Not disappearing. Not tonight.
Not with him.
The barista clears her throat and says loudly, โSo, one pistachio mint and one chocolate peanut butter?โ
I look at her again, and maybe I donโt see as much of a resemblance anymore. She is just a girl named Chelsea who has her own life and will probably never think about us again after we walk out of here. โYes, please,โ I answer, stepping away from Josh and feeling my feet and hands and legs and arms regaining their strength as I walk up to the register.
โI can get it, Eden,โ Josh says.
โNo, I insist,โ I tell him. โYou got dinner; Iโm getting dessert.โ โOkay,โ he agrees. โThank you.โ
Chelsea slides our cups of gelato across the counter and says, โHave a good night,โ adding, under her breath, โIโm sure you will.โ
We take our little paper cups of gelato and tiny flat spoons to go, eating as Josh leads us down the street. โSo, I sorta got the feeling that girl didnโt like us very much,โ he says with a laugh.
โWell, in her defense we were being a tad . . .ย cute.โ
โYou meanย youย were.โ He nudges me in the arm, but I sidestep the sweet comment because even though Iโm trying here, Iโm still me, and I still canโt seem to acknowledge even the most innocent compliment.
โSo, Iโd like to guess at the theme of the evening.โ
โOkay,โ he says, scraping the sides of his dish and licking his mini spoon.
โSomething Italian, obviously,โ I say, tapping my chin with my finger and pretending to give this my serious and undivided attention. โDelicious Italian foods?โ
โClo-ose,โ he says, drawing the word out. โRemember, though, itโs more of a theme within a theme. We do still have one more stop.โ
โAre you taking me to Italy next?โ
โYeah.โ He smiles as he tosses his cup into a garbage can. โI wish.โ
โI have one more bite of my pistachio mint. You sure you donโt wanna try? Itโs really good, I promise. I wouldnโt steer you wrong.โ
He studies the contents of my cup and then says, โOkay, Iโll try.โ
I gather a spoonful and then canโt decide if I should hand it to him or feed it to him. He laughs at my awkwardness and ducks his head to meet the spoon, holding my hand in his as he brings it to his mouth. He watches me while he tastes it. And thereโs something almost unbearably intimate about
this moment, standing on the sidewalk on an empty street, the wind picking up all around us, my hand still in his while we pause, taste, savor.
Slowly, he begins to nod. โHmm.โ โHmm . . . good?โ
โDifferent,โ he says, licking his lips. โItโs different than I thought it would be, but I kinda like it. Actually, I really like it.โ
โSee?โ
He takes my empty cup and spoon and tosses them into the garbage can a few steps away, and when he comes back, he stands in front of me and touches my cheek again, the way he had in the shop. He presses his lips to mine so softly, not rushed like before, and as I kiss him back, I can taste all the flavors.
โI wanted to make up for that weird little spur-of-the-moment kiss back there and couldnโt wait until the end of the night.โ He holds his hand out for me to take again and adds, โSorry.โ
โDonโt be. I liked them both.โ I squeeze his hand again, and he squeezes back as we keep walking in the direction of campus.
We enter a parklike setting right off the street. I read the sign out loud. โTucker Hill Memorial Garden. Is this part of the school?โ
โIt is, yeah. I used to live over here my first year,โ he says, pointing farther down the street. โAnd this is how I would get on campus every day.โ โItโs really pretty here,โ I tell him. We continue down this little pathway through the garden. There are different types of plants and flowers, with benches parked under trees every so often, small lights that shine along the
way, plaques engraved with peopleโs names adorning everything in sight.
โConfession,โ Josh says, giving my hand a squeeze. โI actually used to think about you all the time when I came through here.โ
โYou did?โ I ask, feeling my heart racing at the thought of him here, thinking of me.
He nods. โWhy?โ
He shrugs. โItโs always quiet here and beautifulโevery season has different things in bloom. Itโs also a little sad, but peaceful. I guess I kind of thought this might be your sort of thing.โ
I let his words sink in as I catch a long sweeping branch of a young willow tree and let it fall through my hand as we walk. When I turn my
head to look back at him, heโs already watching me. I let go of his hand and loop my arm with his instead, wanting him closer.
โWhat are you thinking?โ he asks. โAm I talking too much?โ
โNo, I love when you talk to me.โ He pulls me in closer, and our feet kind of stumble into each other. โIt just catches me off guard every time you do that.โ
โDo what?โ
โJust . . . get me. So right, so often.โ
โWell, I canโt take all the credit,โ he says, seeming to sidestep my compliment this time. โThereโs one more part up here that deserves most of it.โ
I canโt imagine what he means by that, but as we continue down the foliage-lined pathway, I see thereโs a light ahead, a clearing that opens up into a larger space. As we get closer, I can hear water running, splashing.
โWow,โ I say, letting go of Joshโs arm to get a better look. Itโs a fountain in the shape of an apple, made of stone and metal and sitting on a giant circle of granite, no barrier to prevent anyone from walking right up to it. And so I do. But when I get too close, water spouts begin spraying all around it, like a challenge to try to walk through and remain dry. The exterior of the apple is shiny red like a fire engine, and the water sprays out of the top where the stem curves up and over the side of the apple, a metal leaf dangling in the wind, held there by a wire or chain of some sort.
But as I walk around to get the full view, I see the other side of the apple is carved out, meant to look like there have been giant bites taken out of the fruit, leaving the hourglass shape of the core behind, and the seeds, made of a dark metal, all overflowing with water. Inside the round part of the apple, thereโs a bench with two sculpted seats in the shape of leaves, just like the metal leaf from the stem, shielded from the waterfalls. It reminds me of the pumpkin carriage fromย Cinderella, except grittier, less elegant . . . more dangerous and even sensual, somehow.
Josh stands in place, waiting for me to come back aroundโI guess heโs seen it enough times. โThis is really . . . ,โ I begin as I make my way back to him. โIโve never seen anything like this. Itโs strangely . . . beautiful.โ
Heโs smiling as he watches me, and then he points to something on the ground in front of him. I come to stand next to him and look down. Thereโs a plaque there that reads:
FONTANA DELLโEDEN / FOUNTAIN OF EDEN.
โOh my God,โ I say.
โSee, I canโt take all the credit,โ he repeats.
โThe apple thing makes more sense now,โ I say, looking at the fountain again.
โIโm glad you like it.โ
โIโm surprisedย youย like itโitโs so edgy and weird.โ
โI like edgy and weird,โ he says as he moves the strand of hair thatโs fallen out of my half-assed attempt at an updo. โMy favorite person in the world is a little edgy and weird, herself.โ
โJosh,โ I begin, but I donโt really know what to say.
He stares into the water, lights shining up from underneath, casting reflections of movement all around us.
โEvery day, when I would pass by, seeing your name there, I would sort of daydream about you being here. Or me bringing you here.โ
โYou know I thought about you too, right?โ He nods, taking both of my hands.
But I need him to really know. โItโs not that I justย thoughtย about you, though. I . . .โย Achedย is the word Iโm having trouble getting out.
โI know,โ he says softly, but I wonder if he really does. โYou know, I always thought if we got a second chance, I wanted to do it right this time,โ he continues, drawing his eyebrows together. โDo you know what I mean?โ
This time I nod.
โBecause I want this with you,โ he says, eyes fastened to mine. โI really do.โ
โI do too,โ I tell him. โMore than anything.โ
He smiles now, and I can see his whole body relax, his grip on my hands loosening. โSo, then . . . weโre doing this for real this time?โ
JOSH
My words hang there in the space between us, my heart racing while I wait. I keep imagining that Iโm missing her answer in the sound of the falling water. But then she starts nodding.
โYes,โ she finally answers.
We stand there holding hands, smiling at each other. I lean down and try to kiss her, but she backs up a couple of steps. Iโm confused. She doesnโt let go of my hands and doesnโt stop smiling either.ย Is she . . . playing with me?ย Sheโs changedโitโs not the first time Iโve thought it over the last few months, but itโs the first time I know for sure itโs true.
โNo?โ I ask her.
She shakes her head.
โNo kiss, not even after my big speech?โ I joke with her, trying my best to play along.
โYouโll get your kiss, donโt worry,โ she says, pulling me by the arm as she moves closer to the fountain. โCome with me.โ
She walks me around to the opposite side of the fountain, our footsteps setting off the series of what must be motion-activated streams of water shooting out from the platform and arching over the walkway.
โSee that little bench inside?โ She points to the metal bench of vines and leaves on the other side of the cascading water. โLetโs go,โ she says, holding my hand tighter.
โGo?โ
โYeah, we can make it.โ
I look around. Thereโs no one here and probably no one nearby on a Sunday night when the semester isnโt even in session yet. โI donโt think weโre supposed toโโ But before I even finish my sentence, she drops my
hand and is racing forward under the tunnel of water. โWait, what are you doing?โ I shout after her.
She outran it, though. She turns and makes this adorableย whoopย sound from underneath the apple, still dry. โCome on!โ she calls, motioning me forward with her hands.
I laugh to myself because Iโm going to have to do this now. โReady?โ she yells. โGo!โ
I start but stop.
โJosh, come on! You have to just do it. Run. Now!โ
So, I do. I run, either too fast or too slow, and end up getting hit full-on by every single stream of water. By the time I reach her, I am soaked all the way through my clothes.
Sheโs covering her mouth, laughing. โOops,โ she mumbles through her hand. โOr maybe you shouldโve waited.โ
โOh, thatโs funny?โ I wrap her in my arms, and she lets out this gasp- shriek as my cold wet clothes press against her, my hair dripping down onto her face as she looks up at me.
โOkay, okay,โ she shouts. Then she pushes my hair back and slides her hands down my neck, letting them rest on my shoulders. And like always, she takes that small breath of air, slowly letting it out as she kisses me, deeper, more fully.
My hands follow down the curve of her back to her waist, fitting perfectly over her hips. She lets me pull her even closer, raising herself onto her toes to reach my mouth. I tighten my arms around her and lift her just enough for our mouths to find each other. Our kiss deepens, and as I feel the full weight of her body against me now, I just want more of her.
โHold on to me,โ I whisper, and she folds her arms around the back of my neck. I reach down and place my hands under her thighs and hoist them up around my waist. She inhales sharply and lets out this soft breathy cry.
โOkay,โ she says, her lips moving against mine. I can feel the muscles in her arms and legs contract all around me. โIโm not laughing anymore.โ
โMe neither,โ I tell her between kisses, my breathing growing faster, with hers. I feel her lungs expand against my chest as she opens her mouth to take a deep breath. I kiss her neck, damp with the spray of water bouncing off the walls.
โGod,โ she exhales.
I look up at her, and her eyes are so bright, even in the dark, and I donโt think I have ever wanted anything or anyone, even her, more than I do right now.
She looks at me like sheโs going to say something else but kisses me instead. I take a few steps to move us to the wall, so I can get a better grip on her, but as her back presses against the dome shape of the apple, she lets out a short scream. Her whole body tenses and jerks, and I realize Iโve just walked her right into a stream of water, as it now cascades over her.
I pull back and set her down on the ground, and she stands there frozen for a moment, mouth open. โIโm so sorry,โ I tell her.
โCold,โ she says, drenched head to toe. โThat wasย reallyย cold.โ She gasps as she looks at me. โDid you do that on purpose?โ
โI swear, I would not have purposely interrupted what was just happening.โ But now Iโm the one covering my mouth to laugh.
โOh, I see,โ she says, taking my hands. โYou were just seducing me so you could have your revenge.โ
โNoโโ I start to say, but then she pulls me forward into her arms, so that weโre both directly under the water. โOh!โ I shudder. โHoly shit, that is fucking freezing.โ
โI know, it is!โ She laughs and kisses me once more. โCan you take me home now?โ
โYes,โ I tell her, and I hold out my arm. โWill you stay with me tonight?โ
Weโre trying to be quiet as we enter our building, but by the time we get to her door, leaving puddles in our wake, our shoes squeaking and squelching, weโre both laughing hysterically.
โOh my God,โ Eden groans, as she wipes under her eye and pulls her hand away with a black smear left on it. โWhat do I even look like right now?โ
โBeautiful,โ I answer.
But she just sort of rolls her eyes dismissively and starts taking her hair down. โWill you give me a few minutes?โ she asks. โIโm just going to take care of . . . this situation here,โ she says, floating her hand in a circle in front of her face.
โYou look beautiful,โ I try again.
She doesnโt acknowledge what Iโve said, but she does kiss me.
โOkay, Iโm gonna run upstairs and take care of thisโโI look down at my drenched clothingโโsituation too.โ
She laughs silently but then says, more seriously, โYouโre coming back though, right?โ
โOf course.โ
โIf Iโm not out of the bathroom, just come in and wait in my room, okay?โ she whispers. โIโll leave this unlocked.โ
Dominic is standing in the kitchen eating cereal when I walk in. โWhat the hell?โ he says, turning to look out the window. โIs it raining?โ
โNope,โ I tell him, rushing past without explaining.
I brush my teeth and take the worldโs quickest shower to wash the chlorine smell off my skin. I hang my wet clothes on the back of my door and get into clean ones. T-shirt, boxer briefs, because theyโre comfortable and I also read somewhere that women find them the sexiest, a statistic I didnโt think I cared about or even remembered before, well, this very moment. I go back and forth about jeans versus shortsโDominicโs voice in my head telling me cargoes should be outlawedโbut if weโre just in her room, sleeping, it can be casual. I decide to go with one of my newer pairs of athletic shorts. I hesitate at my nightstand, not sure if I should bring them. Is it presumptuous or just being prepared? I open the drawer and decide to take one, just in case.
In the kitchen, Dominic is watching me rush around. โDo I look all right?โ
โAll right for . . .ย what?โ he asks, this horrified yet baffled expression twisting his face.
โSleeping over,โ I admit.
โDo you really want to have this conversation?โ
โNo, actually.โ I grab a bottle of water from our fridge. โThank you.
Gotta go.โ
โHave fun, stud,โ he calls after me. โRemember, practice in the morning
โdonโt overexert yourself!โ
Iโm back at her door within ten minutes. I knock quietly before I open it and tiptoe through their kitchen, past the straight line of light from under the bathroom door.
I let myself into her room. I would sit, but she has a bunch of clothes spread out on her bed and chair. So I stand in the center of her tiny room
instead. Itโs dark except for the dim light coming from the small lamp on her desk, and it reminds me of when I was in her room back home. How oppressive it felt in there.
But this room feels like Eden already. I admire her things spread out all haphazardly. She has her laptop open on her desk with a music app on pause and a copy of this yearโs course catalog and some other books and papers teetering dangerously close to the edge. But thatโs when something else on her desk catches my eye. Three prescription bottles, tucked in behind a tube of lotion and some hair products.
Itโs none of my business, God, how I know that.
But, my brain insists.
Because all my stupid brain can think of is my dad and his problems, all the times he would hide pills and bottlesโall the times weโd have to hide themย fromย him. Sheโs not my dad, though. She told me all that stuff was in the past, and I believe her.
The sound of the shower turning off carries through the quiet of the apartment.
โAll right,โ I say out loud, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to look at something else. Her bookcase. Perfect. I go over, but I canโt seem to focus enough to read a single title. I walk back over to her desk and glance at the closed door once more.
I donโt need to knowย whatย they are; I just need to know that theyโre hers. Carefully, I reach for the first one, memorizing their exact positions. Her nameโs on the label. And the second one. And the third. All prescribed to her. By a doctor in our hometown. Nothing wrong with any of this. Itโs absolutely none of my business.
But, again.
Now I do kind of need to know, at least, what theyโreย not. And I still hear the fan going in the bathroom.
God, I hate myself.
I go back to her desk. The labels donโt say what theyโre for, but I also donโt recognize the names, which is a good thing. The only drug names Iโm familiar withโbecause of my dad, of courseโ are the dangerous pain- related controlled substances. And at least these arenโt that. The first one says to take once a day, the second is one tablet at night, and the third says as needed. All have refills. I set them back down in their spots.
There is no reason for me to fixate on this. Itโs not even surprising that she would be on some kind of medication after everything sheโs been through. Fuck,ย Iย should probably be medicated too.
Just then, the fan shuts off, and I hear the bathroom door creak open. Quickly, I park myself in front of her bookcase, bending down to slide one of the books out, as if Iโd been standing here reading the jacket this whole time.
โHey,โ she whispers. โYouโre here.โ
And as I turn around to see her face, the glorious fruit and flower scents following along behind her, I can almost forget about the things that are none of my business. โOf course Iโm here,โ I tell her, setting the book down as she starts walking toward me.
But then she stops short, looking at her desk, and my heart starts racing like she might be able to tell Iโve handled the bottles. โIโm sorry itโs so messy in here.โ She turns around and gathers up all the clothes from her bed and tosses them on top of the desk, covering all the stuff I am now pretty certain she didnโt want me to see.
โNo, IโI donโt mind. I mean, itโs really not messy,โ I lie.
She comes to me now and wraps her arms around my waist. โIt is messy, but thatโs only because I was super nervous getting ready for an important date with this guy I really like.โ
And now I genuinely fucking hate myself. But coming clean wouldnโt make me feel any less guilty and would only make her think I donโt trust her or she canโt trust me. Thereโs no reason to ruin what has been an amazing night because Iโm paranoid that everyone I love is going to turn into an addict.
I clear my throat, breathe her in, and say, โOh?โ As she looks up at me, I lean down to kiss her. โThink youโll see him again?โ
She smiles and lets out a small laugh as she presses her cheek against my chest, her wet hair leaving a damp spot on my shirt.
โTonight was the most fun Iโve had in a really long time,โ I tell her, a different truth, instead. And itย wasย fun, but it was also equally sexy and romantic and meaningful, but Iโm not sure how to say all that.
โHmm, me too,โ she sings. โButโโ
โBut what?โ I ask, starting to get worried. Is she already having second thoughts?
โYou have to tell me the theme.โ
โOh.โ I exhale too forcefully, but she doesnโt seem to notice.
โI mean, Italian restaurant. Italian dessert. Italian fountain. Thatโs the theme within the theme part, right?โ
โRight.โ
โSo, whatโs the bigger theme? I still donโt think I got it.โ
โYou. Being here. Me. Being so beyond happy about you being here. I guess thatโs the real theme I was going for.โ
โOh.โ She pauses. โWell, then, I guess I did get it, after all.โ
โGood.โ I touch her cheeks where theyโre blushing. โYou know, I feel like Iโm getting to see this whole other side of you here,โ I tell her, moving my hands through her wet hair.
โReally?โ She brings her hands up around my neck and looks at me with this easy smile. โYou didnโt know I could be fun before?โ
โI did, but Iโm realizing youโre also kind of . . . wild.โ โMe?โ she gasps. โWhat aboutย you?โ
โWhat about me? I assure you no one has ever once accused me of being wild. Responsible, dependable, sensible?โ I count them on my fingers as I list the words. โYes. Wild? Never.โ
โDo I need to replay the footage from that whole steamy fountain kissing scene?โ she asks, and her fingers are so light as they dance up and down my arms that I feel momentarily dizzy. โBecause that seems to be playing on a loop in my head right now. The part before you walked me into a freezing waterfall, I mean.โ She pauses to let her grin disappear before she continues, more serious. โThe part right before that was . . .ย intense.โ
I lean to kiss her neck just so she doesnโt see my face turning red, but I pull myself together and look at her again, so she knows. โI never wouldโve done that with anyone else.โ
โMe neither.โ
My hands go to her bare arms. Sheโs wearing only a thin tank top and shorts, and as I lean down to kiss the other side of her neck, I canโt help but notice that sheโs not wearing a bra. She touches my face and brings my mouth to hers while her fingers trail up my stomach, under my shirt.
โCan we take this off?โ she asks me as her hands start to push my shirt up. Something in me melts a little at the way she said โwe.โ
So we do. We pull my shirt off over my head together and let it fall to the floor, but before I can start kissing her again, I feel her mouth planting these
soft, warm kisses across my chest and stomach, sending chills through my whole body.
โOh God,โ I breathe. โThat feels so good.โ
She takes my hands from where I lost my train of thought and left them perched lazily in her hair and presses them against her over the front of her shirt. I raise her shirt just enough to touch her skin, and then her hands are there too, moving my hands up under the fabric, over the gentle curve of her stomach.
โThis is okay?โ I ask, even though sheโs the one who placed my hands there. โCan we . . . ?โ I begin, suddenly unable to finish the sentence. โCan we take this off too?โ
โMm-hmm,โ she murmurs, her voice muffled as she pulls the shirt off over her head. She brings her arms in front of her chest and moves in close to me before I can really look at her. The feeling of her bare skin, her body pressed against mine, has my heart going so fast. Even though Iโve seen every naked inch of her so many times before, this feels brand-new. Because itโs not only her attitude thatโs changed in all this time apart, but itโs her body tooโevery part of her fuller, stronger, softer, from the arch of her back to the shape of her shoulders, her thighs and hips and waistโI need this minute to prepare myself. I take a deep breath as her fingers work under the band of my shorts, hands roaming gently over my carefully selected underwear, gradually edging the athletic shorts down over my hips.
โCan I?โ she asks as she pulls away to let space in between us.
I finally look down at her, and she is so much more magnificent than I remember, all I can manage to do is nod. She slides my shorts down my legs and onto the floor, then quickly slides hers off too, and I hold her hands as she steps out of them. And we stand in front of each other, in only underwear, for the first time in years.
โYou are so beautiful,โ I tell her, squeezing her hands in mine like weโd been doing all night. โI know youโre gonna keep ignoring me when I say that, but I wish you wouldnโt because I really mean it.โ
โSorry.โ She shakes her head but smiles in that rare shy way she does sometimes, only for a moment. โIโm nervous,โ she whispers.
โItโs okay, I am too,โ I assure her. Iโve had sex with five people in my life
โtwo casual, three relationships, including herโand I feel as nervous as if this were my first time.
โI didnโt think I would be so nervous,โ she says.
โWe donโt have to do anything tonight.โ She pauses, studying my face.
Itโs almost like sheโs trying to determine if I really mean that or notโshe should know I do, but in case she doesnโt, I add, โHave I ever told you what an amazing kisser you are?โ
She grins. โNo, youโve never mentioned that.โ
โWell, you are the best kisser in the worldโhey, youโre laughing, but Iโm completely serious,โ I tell her. โAnd I wouldย seriouslyย be more than happy to just lie down with you here and keep kissing you. We really donโt have to do anything else.โ
โI know. Thank you for that.โ She inhales deeply and exhales before continuing. โBut I want to. I mean, if you do.โ
โOh, I do.โ I look down, feeling like I should somehow apologize for not having more control over myself. โObviously, I do. Thereโs no rush, though.โ
She nods, placing my hands on her hips like she knows how much I love the way they feel. And as she reaches out, running her hands along my face and down my chest and stomach, sheโs not even trying to hide the fact that sheโs looking at my body. Staring. Gazing. I have the urge to make some kind of stupid joke, likeย hey lady,ย my eyes are up here, because standing in front of her like this, under her hands, her eyes on me, itโs intenseโthat was the word she used earlierโalmost too intense to bear.
โYou are so gorgeous,โ she whispers.
โW-what?โ I stutter. Thereโs literally nothing she couldโve said that wouldโve shocked me more. Sheโs never said anything remotely like that to me before. I almost think sheโs joking. But then she lets her hands float down my back and rest on my hips. And it doesnโt feel like a joke at all.
โDo you even know?โ she asks, and her eyes meet mine again like sheโs expecting an answer.
EDEN
There was a time when I was afraid to look at him too closely. Afraid of how beautiful his body was, afraid of the things he could do, the ways he could hurt me with it.
But not now, not anymore. Right now Iโm not afraid of anything. I canโt stop watching his face as I touch him. His eyes are closed like they were earlier, with the bite of gelato melting on his tongue.
โEden . . . ,โ he says, breathless, as he pulls my hand away and places it on his chest instead.
โSorry, was that notโโ
โOh my God, no.โ He smooths my hair back and touches my lips. โThat was . . .โ He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and I can feel his heart racing under my hand. โI just need a second. Itโs been a while since Iโve done this. And . . . I just need to slow down for a second.โ
โOh,โ I say awkwardly, โokay.โ I back away from him and try to cover myself with my arms as I sit down on the edge of the bed. But then heโs right there with me a moment later, like itโs a choreographed dance, suddenly kneeling on the floor in front of me so weโre at eye level. He kisses my knees and lets out a long sigh, laying his head on my lap. It feels so strange and sweet and vulnerable, I reach out and run my hands down his back, through his hair, still damp.
He raises his head slowly and kisses my thighs, running his hands up and down my legs, moving forward as I part them, wanting to let him come closer. I lie back on the bed and pull him down on top of me. I can feel my pulse everywhere, all at once. He places his arm behind my backโif he tells me toย hold on toย him again, I might go into cardiac arrestโbut he doesnโt; he somehow manages to gracefully scoot us up on the bed so that my head is resting on the pillow.
โThanks,โ I whisper.
We start this sort of slow kiss, rocking our bodies together, and it feels so good to be this close to him. Iโm holding my breath as his hand travels down my body until heโs touching me over my underwear. โIs this okay?โ he whispers, kissing my neck right under my ear.
I manage to gather enough air in my lungs to say, โYes.โ
And then his hand, so warm against my stomach, dips down beneath my underwear, and I switch from barely breathing to breathing too fast. My heart races while he takes his time. Moving down my body slowly kissing, kissing everywhere, and when he rakes his teeth along my hip bone, I donโt even know what involuntary sound it is that I make. He gets to my underwear, and I donโt know what more I can possibly take. I have to close my eyes.
โCan I?โ he asks, his fingers curling under the elastic band. I nod, and he must be looking at my face because he breathes, โOkay,โ and starts sliding my underwear down. I open my eyes again, and heโs there kneeling between my legs, kissing my ankles, then my calves and knees. When he gets to my inner thighs, his mouth trailing closer and closer, I start to lose track of myself. He lowers himself to his stomach and wraps his arms around my legs, hands pressing down on my hips. Every part of me wants this, but the better it feels, the more Iโm slipping away.
Weโve done this all before, though, I remind myself. Itโs safe with him, safe to let it feel good. Itโs safe to stay in this place.
I reach down to find some part of him to hold on toโhis hair, the back of his neck, his arms, his wristsโand when his hands meet mine, itโs like an anchor, our fingers interlacing, pulling me back. Heโs pushing me right up to the edge, but I canโt let myself go. Because Iโm looking up at my ceiling, and it looks too much like too many other unfamiliar ceilings Iโve been under, and even though itโs him,ย us, itโs different now than it was back then. Iโve had so much practice keeping Kevin out of my head in these moments, and I mostly succeed. Itโs the others, though, this time. The nameless, faceless ones, dragging me away from here. I close my eyes again, trying to focus on how good this feels, his mouth, his tongue, the
warmth, the rush of it all, butโ
I let go of his hands. โJosh . . . ?โ
โYeah?โ He crawls back up to me. โWhat is it, are you okay?โ I nod and try my best to smile. โIโm okay, I justโโ
โThat was too much, too fast, wasnโt it?โ he says. โIโm sorry.โ
โNo, it wasnโt. It felt so good, really; I was just starting to get in my head a little. Itโs, um, been a while since Iโve done this too.โ
โOh,โ he breathes, looking at me like he hadnโt considered this. โOkay.
Well, just tell me what you need.โ
โCan you just stay here with me, close to me, I mean?โ
โYeah, of course.โ He lies down next to me, kisses my shoulder, and says, โIโm staying right here. Do you want to stop? We can. I promise I wonโt mind.โ
I shake my head and take his hand, sliding it down my body again, guiding him to where I want him. โI donโt want to stop,โ I tell him. I want to be here for thisโall of it. I want to feel everything. I donโt want to let these fucking ghosts in my head win.
Iโd forgotten the way he pays attention, as if nothing exists but us. I pull him close, so I can feel his weight against me. Thereโs no fear or impatience or self-consciousness in his touch. He holds steady, watching my face, keeping me with him. I feel my breath coming faster, trembling as he tips me over the edge in a way Iโve never known before, feeling it somehow beyond my body, even. And then heโs kissing my lips, my neck, my chest.
โYou are amazing,โ heโs whispering, breathing heavily now like heโd been holding his breath that whole time. โGod, I want you so badโsorry, can I say that?โ
โYes,โ I answer, trying to catch my breath while stopping myself from smiling at his words. I open my eyes, not even realizing Iโd closed them. โBut you have something, right?โ
He looks over at our clothes on the floor. โI do. You want me to get it now?โ
I nod.
โIโll be right back,โ he whispers. I watch as he walks over and fishes the condom out of the pocket of his shorts. The way heโs looking at me as he climbs back into bedโlike Iโm the best thing heโs ever seenโI could just die. โJust tell me if we need to stop at all, okay?โ
โI will.โ
Heโs going slow, being careful. The way heโs watching me so closely, his eyes dark and deep and warm, has me sort of hypnotized. I have a montage running in the background of my mind of all the times heโs looked at me like thisโmaking me feel weak and strong, all at the same time. He moves
gently, his breath even and paced now, and I can tell heโs trying to restrain himself.
โI love you so much,โ he says quietly, his mouth against mine. โYou know that, right?โ
I nod because I do know. But I canโt speak because I feel the walls of my throat suddenly caving in, heavy with too many competing emotions, and words sitting there waiting, trying to figure out how to get out of me. I clutch his shoulders as we move faster, together, breathing each other in.
Itโs kind. Delicate. This giving and taking.
Iโve never been so present. Never this connected to anyone, not even him. Iโm holding on to him so tight and I have to bury my face in his neck because, I realize, Iโm crying. Crying because Iโve never felt this way before. About him, about myself. I donโt even know whatย itย is, but I feel it in my body, my heart, my mind, everywhereโitโs everything.
And then I know, all at once: This feeling is freedom.
Even as he finishes, heโs still being so gentle with me. We pant against each other for a few moments before he tries to raise himself up off my body. But I hold on, keep him close. โNo, stay,โ I tell him.
โLook at me, Eden,โ he whispers, brushing my hair aside. I turn my face away because I donโt know how to explain. โYouโre crying.โ
โNo, Iโm not,โ I try to say, but I hear my own voice, all wet and raspy.
โYes, you are.โ His hands are on my face now, his eyes searching mine. โTalk to me. Did I . . . ?โ He pauses. โDid I hurt you?โ
โNo,โ I gasp, and the tears are coming faster now. โNo, Iโm crying because Iโve just never felt like this. Ever. Iโve never felt so . . .โย So happy, cared for, respected, even. But then I say what all those things really mean: โSo loved.โ
โOh,โ he exhales, relieved, seeming to understand. โYou are. I mean, I do. I love you,โ he says again. โAnd IโIโve never felt this way before either.โ
I let him wipe the tears from my cheeks, and as he looks down at me, even his eyes turn shiny. He smiles and blinks fast. โJesus, youโre gonna make me cry now.โ
โSorry.โ I sniffle, almost laughing at myself.
He releases a breath of a laugh too. โItโs okay.โ
We readjust our positions, and when he gets up to throw the condom away, he asks if I want him to leave the lamp onโI donโt, I wonโt need it if
heโs here. He climbs into bed and covers us with the sheet, laying his head on my chest while we hold each other.
โJosh?โ I hear myself say into the darkness.
โHmm?โ he says, his voice all loose and sleepy. โI love you too.โ
He raises his head and looks down at me, squinting slightly like heโs confused or didnโt quite hear me, but then he kisses my lips softly and says, โI know how hard that was for you to say.โ
I shake my head. โNo, it wasnโt.โ