Pomegranate

Seth - 1

The night before Seth moved into Bradwell College for his sophomore year, his sister Camilla called the landline.

"So moms are still mad, huh?"

"No cell phone until we leave tomorrow," he sighed. "Like that's gonna make a difference. I don't think they really know how to ground people."

"They'll get over it. And you know I say this with all the love in the world but...you have to get your shit together."

"I know."

"Get some decent friends. Not like the assholes you lived with. And stop slacking off."

Seth leaned against the kitchen counter, stretching the long coiled line connected to the old phone with him. He reached for a jar of cookies inside a tin decorated with pink polka-dot while his sister continued to lecture him. His house in Arizona was a combination of his moms' opposing styles: simple rustic and pin-up vintage. His mom, Cara, build a few pieces of furniture from scratch, chairs and tables included, so the house generally smelled like fresh wood. And his mother, Laurie, had decorated the house with flowery wallpapers, gaudy chandeliers, and soft pink and turquoise throw pillows. They thought the clashing styles gave their house "personality". At some points, Seth had to admit he had been too embarrassed to bring friends over.

"Are you really calling me from Iceland for this pep talk?" He interrupted, after a couple of minutes of Camilla ranting.

"Well, no one tells me anything." Camilla huffed, the grainy quality of the call making it harder to understand her. "But, I mean it. I've seen you do this since kindergarten, Seth. You're so excited about making friends you end up letting people steamroll you. And you do whatever they want. You would still be in Trinity if—"

"I get it," he cut in. It was not like he hadn't heard it from his moms, or close friends, or himself for the past few months. He, too, did not believe how he could have been so stupid and gullible. He wasn't leaving Trinity with good memories, but he knew his game plan when he got to Bradwell: focus on classes. Get a better GPA. Meet new people, different people. 

He should meet people from whatever LGBT+ club at Bradwell, which he didn't do in Trinity. He might have made better friends there than accepting whoever a computer system assigned him to live with. His high school's GSA was how he met his closest friends, Max and Aubrey. They attended different colleges now, but they still kept in touch.

"Stop worrying about me, Cami. Moms are already doing plenty of that."

"But you'll call me if there's anything wrong?"

"Yes," he grunted. "It'll be fine. I'll be focused."

"And involved with student leadership?"

"Sure."

"Good. And stop having crushes on your friends."

"Noted."

Three weeks later, he met Meredith.