Chasing Summer

My Pandora's Box

On Christmas Eve, I found myself standing in Petra's kitchen, stamping out reindeer shaped cookies from dough that had been rolled out onto a cutting board. The entire house smelled of fresh baked goods and holiday music played in the background, but every few seconds, the song was interrupted by Petra pounding dough into submission with more force than necessary. In the living room, her parents sat chatting idly over red wine. They had come home at the last second, ruining all our plans for the day.

Jean, who was sprinkling powdered sugar on a batch of brownies, suddenly blurted out, "This is bullshit. They can't just come back like this. Who the fuck do they think they are?"

Petra exhaled, a long, drawn out sound of defeat. She wiped her flour-covered hands on the apron she wore over her burgundy dress. "This is their house."

"We don't have to stay here," he insisted. "We could go to my house."

While they argued about whether or not we should stay, I stood there thinking about how tomorrow was my eighteenth birthday. I didn't want to celebrate it, but Coach Smith had taken it upon himself to plan a go away/Christmas party at the local church. The whole town was going to be there, so pulling a no-show wasn't an option. Especially since this would be my last Christmas here in Shiganshina.

I put the last remaining cookie on the sheet and closed my eyes on a sigh. For the past five days, I'd been trying to find a way to contact Grisha, but he'd left without a trace. As the woman down at the post office told me several times, it was against the law for her to give me his forwarding address, which left me without a way to find out whether or not Eren was still alive. How was I supposed to go on like this?

"Levi," Jean snapped, drawing my attention to him. He was cleaning up powdered sugar he'd spilt on the counter. "Tell her we should leave."

I looked at Petra, who was glaring daggers at him. "I don't want you two to fight over them. They aren't worth it."

"I know they aren't," Petra said in a huff. Then she sighed, turning around so she could wrap her arms around Jean's waist. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades. "I'm sorry. You're right. We should leave. Neither of us wants to be here." She turned her head to glance at me. "Let's pack all this stuff up and head over to Jean's house. It was supposed to be the three of us. My parents can't change that now."

I asked the question that needed to be asked: "What if they decide that they don't want you to go?"

"Then I'll lock myself in my room and take all the food I made with me."

Jean snorted. "If you think you're eating that food all by yourself, then you're mistaken. I worked my ass off making those cheesecake pancakes, which I'm pretty sure have five thousand calories in them, but who's counting?"

The next fifteen minutes were spent loading the food into Petra's truck. Surprisingly, her parents didn't question what we were doing. I couldn't figure out why that was until I caught sight of them in the living room. Even from where I stood in the doorway, I could see that they were tipsy. Both were sitting on the floor, neglecting the SCRABBLE board between them in favor of sipping on wine. I stared at them for a while, wondering if they knew that their only daughter had given up trying to get their attention. I couldn't bring myself to feel bad for leaving them here alone.

After everything was packed away, Jean picked Petra up bridal style, and carried her to the truck. She laughed as he attempted to pry open the passenger side door with her in his arms. I couldn't help but think of Eren as I watched them. I could sit here and feel bitter about it, but what would I gain from that? Instead, I chose to be happy for them. They deserved it, after all.