making the bed, the summer I turned pretty

001 perfectly picturesque

I bite the inside of my cheek, still where I stand, watching her scrutinize me. I know she's a therapist and all, and that she's trained for this, but I think I can beat her at her own game... she can't deny this is the happiest I've been since the moment she met me.

She releases a small sigh, making me smile; closing her binder with a shrug and returning the warm look. "Okay. Have a great summer, Magnolia."

"Yeah, yeah." I smile, waving to her while I walk backwards, stumbling slowly out the door. "You too!"

The second I reach the hallway my rapid footsteps are echoing behind me, bouncing from wall to wall as I sprint in freedom towards the front office and and straight to the exit. I let out a resounding holler of glee, which, in retrospect, was probably not the most appropriate way to bid adieu to a building where each room contained a person ripping apart their soul to clean it out then stitch it up again, but I couldn't help it. I'm too damn excited.

I tear my phone from the back pocket of my jeans as I race out onto the street, lifting it to my lips, short of breath. "Call Jeremiah Fisher!"

"Calling Jeremiah F—"

Siri doesn't have time to finish before I twist my ankle and fall off the curb.

༻✧༺

     "I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY BROKE YOUR WRIST."

"What a way to kick off the summer, right?" I roll my eyes with a smile he can't see, letting my head lull lazily against the padded seat I slouched comfortably in, my body moving along with the slight bounce of the bus' big tires speeding along the pavement.

     "MOM!" I wince at the volume, pulling my phone temporarily from my ear as he continued to shout; clearly not realizing how loudly he was screaming into the speakers. "MAGGIE BROKE HER WRIST!!"

     I hear Susannah give a light gasp in the background, only a few seconds of silence passing before it's her voice (much more soothing than Jeremiahs, might I add) on the phone instead.

     "Oh, sweetie! Are you okay?"

     "I'm fine, Susannah." I chuckle, pinching the bridge of my nose momentarily. "Got chic black cast."

     "Oh! I call dibs on signing it first!" Jeremiah, again— obviously.

     "No." I scoff. "Casts with signatures all over them are tacky, I'm not doing that."

     "What?! Casts with signatures all over them are cool!" he argues. "Remember when I got Clara to sign mine?"

     Clara— that nurse's name would echo my head until the day that I died.

"Oh my God, Jeremiah, Clara was a grown adult woman who signed your cast because you were a thirteen year old with a broken elbow and a mom with cancer. No offense, Susannah."

     "None taken! Head out of the clouds, Jere Bear."

"You say that like you didn't also have a massive crush on her." he pointed out.

"Whatever." I dismiss, knowing he's not wrong.

     Once I heard the soft tapping of wedges against polished wood floors, I knew it was just the two of us again. My gaze moved to the window beside me, watching in reverie as the world passed by in a blur of fast-moving colors; the scenery slowly changing from the small, insignificant town of Hartly Delaware to the great city of Boston Massachusetts. There was a moment of comfortable silence, a moment of just being, before Jeremiah spoke up again, voice a little softer this time.