Nathan
Living on campus was exhausting. I regretted making the decision to move there, particularly now that the house was officially mine, but I had to admit it was the practical thing to do. With the amount of studying required and my internship at Harrell & Moss, I barely had the time to take Charlotte out, let alone drive home every evening. That didn't mean I didn't miss Sam and June, miss hearing about their adventures, miss cooking with her, miss mocking my brother's tragic kissing skills. If he'd only waited until he found a girl he truly liked, he might've realized the kissing was much better if you did it slowly and with feeling — I wasn't going to tell him that, though. He'd find out for himself, someday. Truthfully, I'd never been a big fan of kissing, especially not with strangers. But I couldn't do and say all these things anyway, because I was always away, and on the weekends, Charlotte usually came with me.
So, when Moss dismissed me early one Friday in November, there was only one thing on my mind. Charlotte would be busy studying for her exams this weekend, I was practically free until Monday... I was going home, and I was going to spend time behind the stove with June, and joke with her about Sam sitting there pasted together with Jennifer, and no one would be able to stop me.
"Hey, Nathan, a few of us are going to get some drinks at the bar down the street, you wanna come?"
I probably should. Make connections, listen to all of my colleagues' shitty golf jokes, complain about girlfriends and wives — it'd be the smart thing to do. "Sorry," I said instead. "I've got plans tonight. Can't." At least, this was a decision I felt no remorse over whatsoever.
During the drive home, I put on one of June's new playlists, which surprised me with a few well-chosen little-known gems of Pearl Jam, mixed up with some Nirvana, and containing several promising songs I'd never heard before, by some Latin band called Soda Stereo. She had taste, that girl, I had to admit it. When the Offspring's Self-Esteem suddenly blasted out of the speakers, Lena's all-time favorite, I went to skip it, when I realized it didn't hurt anymore. Relieved, I turned the volume up, deciding to take a little detour. This is for you, Lena.
The eagles were as beautiful as ever, although more botched up tags were sprayed over the birds each time I came to visit. I knew June and Hayley were spending their breaks here; pictures of them together with the mural in the background were displayed all over their Instagrams. I didn't have an account myself, but Charlotte was stalking June and Sam for me, and frequently sent me images of them so I'd know what they were up to. My brother might not be fourteen anymore, there was plenty of trouble left for him to get into. That was one of the reasons I'd planted a large box of condoms in his room and ordered him to use them. If there was one thing I didn't want to deal with, it was him getting some teenage girl pregnant.
When the house came in view, calmness washed over me. Home. Finally. And it was all mine. No one who could take it from me. Thank you, grandma. She always knew what I needed. Back then, when she had just passed away and the will was read to me, I couldn't understand why she'd thought I would've wanted that house. Now, it only seemed natural.
She and grandpa had always been proud of it. I had all these plans to turn it back into what it had been, with pictures of them and me and June and Sam and Charlotte — transform it back into what grandma had meant it to be. I'd already taken down that portrait of our parents, me and Sam, unceremoniously dumping it in the trash. It wasn't like they'd care.
The minute I opened the door, I was sure June was home alone. I grinned, almost unable to keep myself from barging in. She'd put on music, on the highest volume possible without damaging your ears, and I smelled tomato and onion and something else, probably some vegetarian substitute for meat — Hayley had convinced her to go vegetarian, supposedly to try and ease the climate change a bit, while we suspected the girl was just a picky eater. It didn't matter though; when it was June cooking, you didn't even taste the difference.
Arctic Monkeys. R U Mine? The band never really caught onto me, but this track was an exception. Seemed like she felt the same. She was strumming a non-existent guitar, jumping around the kitchen, dark curls flying everywhere. She was wearing an apron over her skinny jeans and black Nirvana t-shirt, a combination that made me chuckle. I'd never seen her dance so carefree — come to think about it, I'd never seen her dance before. Even when Valentina was here, they had danced in her room, but never where we could watch. Was she ashamed of the way she moved? Her knees buckling every other time her feet hit the ground, her head going back and forth somewhat abruptly, her left hand in a fist, arms sometimes swooping out of control?
She shouldn't be.
I prayed she wouldn't spot me — it was liberating somehow, to see her let go like this, and the song and that mighty guitar dove right into me, and for the first time in weeks, I felt myself relax.
I was home.
She turned around — freezing when she noticed me grinning at her. She was breathing fast, cheeks red from exertion, some loose curls hiding part of her face. Those brown eyes pierced right into mine though, just when the greatest part of the song set in.
Sam was a fool for picking that Jennifer over her. This beautiful girl was living right across his room, and he was completely oblivious to it. Probably for the best, with the way he kissed girls.
The song died out, and she snapped out of it, quickly turning around to frantically tap her phone, trying to lower the volume. She succeeded, startling when she realized I was now in front of her. "Hi," she said, somewhat breathlessly. "No Charlotte?"
I shook my head. "No. Exams. Sam at Jennifer's?"
She smirked. "Yeah. Luckily. Means we'll actually have an appetite." I laughed, too elaborate for the joke, but it got rid of all the tension. She knew, of course. "Long week?"
"Endless. Glad to be home."
She smiled brightly, lights in her eyes, and I had to pull her in for a hug, squeezing her tight and taking in her scent, the soft tickling of her curls on my skin. She seemed taken aback when I let go of her, inspecting me as if there was something wrong with me. I smiled, then tapped her phone to put the music back on.
After dinner, which had somehow gone on for hours, while I'd previously thought I didn't have that much to tell, I asked her what part of the house bothered her the most, and almost immediately, she answered: "The Christmas balls carpet."
Of course. That revolting piece of 'art'. Grinning furiously to each other, we dragged the heavy thing outside to the trash. June tripped over the threshold, falling flat on her face on top of the carpet and breaking a few of the ornaments in the process. She sustained a cut in her cheek and a deep gash in her arm, but being who she was, she merely laughed at it, not even allowing me to take a look at it. "Come on," I said. "Just humor me for once." She gave in then, and while I dabbed her injuries with iodine and she tensed, fists clenching, I suddenly realized we'd known each other for almost one and a half years — it seemed much longer, like she'd always been there.
Then, we drove out to buy a new carpet, simple, practical, and soft — a carpet you could actually lie down on, which we were currently doing, music playing in the background. I could've fallen asleep right then and there, with a more than decent meal in my stomach, in grandma's house that was now mine, and her right beside me.
"I think this might become my new favorite spot."
"Mine too. Might make this into my bedroom."
She laughed, turning her head towards me. The cut had stopped bleeding, luckily. It looked like a cat had scratched her. It reminded me of that summer night in the hospital, when she'd accidentally hurt herself because she'd startled every time the door leading to the O.R. had opened. "Please don't. I already have to put up with Sammifer, I don't need to be suffering through you and Charlotte as well."
Sammifer. She and Hayley had come up with it. Very fitting. For a while, I'd been worried about her, caught up between two couples, but I quickly realized I shouldn't have been. She managed, she always did. And Hayley seemed nice enough, even if she sometimes squealed like a baby pig, used a lot more "OMG's" and "literally's" than necessary, and was so shy she barely spoke a word to Charlotte or me. I guessed that was what most teenage girls acted like; they couldn't all be like June.
"I'm still fazed by the fact they didn't break up after two weeks," I said. While Hayley at least seemed to possess an ample level of intelligence, Jennifer was the kind of girl I would've wanted to strangle in high school. To be honest, I wasn't sure how I managed to put up with her.
June snorted. "Won't be long now. I think they had sex last week, and I think they were both pretty disappointed with the result." I lost it, then, trembling from laughter; I wasn't sure if it was me that was shaking, or the whole house. Only June would throw this in my face without warning. "What's so damn funny?" But there were little lights in her eyes, and a slight grin tugged at the corner of her lips.
"You. You are funny."
"Well, they make it pretty easy for me to be funny. They're practically asking to be made fun of."
"Yeah... Only the way she calls him 'bae'. I think I don't wanna hear that word ever again." I breathed in deeply, calming the last remnants of my laughing fit. A sudden worry dawned over me, and quickly, I asked: "Charlotte and me aren't like that, right?"
The grin was released in full now, and the lights in the brown of her eyes were shimmering. "Absolutely not. She's British — if anything, she should try to let go a little. I swear, someone could dance naked in front of her, and the only thing she'd do would be awkwardly walking away."
"I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd be doing any different in a situation like that."
"Wouldn't you at least yell something? I would."
"I think you're putting a lot of thought in a hypothetical situation that has a less than five percent chance of happening."
"That's what living with a lawyer has taught me. Always be prepared for every possible scenario."
"I'd love to handle a case in which this is one of the possible scenarios."
"Nah, you should hand it over to Charlotte. Should be hilarious."
"Can't do that to her. She'd be traumatized."
"Well, you can always be the one doing the naked dancing. She'd definitely appreciate that." Oh, how she enjoyed being smart like this. Most people were always taken aback by her cheek, especially when they didn't know her and viewed her as a poor, innocent kid. I'd seen her performing the technique on Charlotte, always with the best results, and even Sam let himself be caught off guard at times. I supposed it made her feel in control.
I, however, never went down that easily. "I think she's starting to get bored with it, actually. Should think of something new."
For a few moments, she merely stared at me, speechless for the first time in months, then, she burst out laughing, hitting me in the chest. "You should be thrown in the pool for that!"
"You're welcome to try." I hadn't even said it, or she got up, putting on her determined face, where she'd frown, lips pressed together in concentration, and grabbed hold of the carpet. Miraculously, she managed to move it a few inches before taking a break, panting.
"Work with me a little, here," she said. "You're too heavy. You've been eating too much of that gross fast food."
"Well, alright..." I jumped up, seeing her eyes grow big — she knew what was coming. Before she could even turn around, I'd picked her up, throwing her over my shoulder while she let out a loud shriek. Pff. I wasn't the only one who'd gained some weight. She'd definitely not been this heavy a year ago.
"Nathan! — No! — This — is — so — unfair!"
She was right. But it was too good of an opportunity to pass by on. Holding her tight, making sure she couldn't fall, I marched outside with her. It took a lot more effort than I was ever going to admit to her. She was cursing me in Spanish, slamming her fists into my back. Did she know she was so amusing when she did that it only made the whole thing more entertaining? Probably not.
"Where's your phone?" I asked.
"In my pocket! In my pocket!"
I checked — nothing. "You don't even have pockets in your jeans."
"Yeah, well, another disadvantage of being a woman! Next to being lifted like you're a backpack whether you want to be or not!"
But she was still laughing, so I knew she didn't mind this time. "I'm sorry, June. I'll let you go then." She didn't even have time to scream before she hit the water, creating a big splash.
When she reached the surface, her priority was burning me with her narrowed, smoldering eyes, only after that taking a big gulp of air. "You asshole!" She was precious, the way her hair flowed around her in the water, skin covered in goosebumps, fists threateningly directed at me, illuminated by the glow of the lights beneath us.
It seemed like there was only one logical thing to do: jump in too.
She was laughing uncontrollably when I came up, shaking her head. "You're so weird," she said.
"That's why you like me, right?"
Suddenly, her laugh degraded to a small smile, one I wasn't familiar with. "Yeah... Probably one of the reasons."
I frowned, wading towards her. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No. Not tonight. Tonight... everything's right."
"Even with me throwing you in the pool?"
She giggled, something she rarely did anymore. "Especially with you throwing me in the pool." She averted her eyes for a second. Then: "I miss you, you know."
Damn. This girl... Making me feel guilty with only three simple words, brown eyes staring up at me, full of truth. "I know. I miss you too. It's bizarre, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"How much has happened. Sometimes I can't keep up with it."
She nodded, lost in thought. Once, there was this giggly girl I opened up car doors for, and I was this guy wasting away days cooped up in a house, and now, she'd gotten serious, taking all these AP courses to prepare for her future, while mine was closing in on me with the minute, transporting me to places I'd never thought I'd end up at. In this whole story, she was the only thing that made sense.
"What the hell are you two dipshits doing?!" For once, I startled as heavily as she did. Sam was standing next to the pool, looking down on us, shaking his head. "You know what, I don't even wanna know." And without further ado, he ran towards us, doing a very impressive cannonball.
June started coughing, probably having swallowed a mouthful of water. Sam emerged with a smug grin plastered to his face. "Mm, good idea, guys," he said. "Just what I needed."
"Doesn't your dear Jenny have a pool?" June teased, and I thought this might end up being the most perfect evening in weeks. She, cooking, music, my house, and now Sam, and we could make jokes about him as much as we wanted...
Sam went red. "Actually, we broke up just now."
Oh, thank god. June and I shared a look of relief — would it be too much to hug her right now? This might be the best news of the year.
"Oh no, Sam, I'm so sorry..." she started, almost being able to even convince me.
"Cut the crap, both of you," Sam said. "I know you hated her."
"I didn't," I said.
"Me neither," June said. "I don't hate people. I merely despise them. Hating is such a strong word, after all."
Sam splashed her; we laughed. I decided to take revenge for her, pushing him under the water. He fought back, and while we battled each other, I wondered if June was rolling her eyes at us, muttering "boys" underneath her breath.
Later, when the three of us had taken possession of the couch again, June in the middle, re-watching Game of Thrones episodes, I fleetingly realized this might become an even rarer situation soon. I couldn't stay at university forever, no matter how terrifying the thought of having a real job was. What if I ended up working in LA? Or even another state?
"Oh no," Sam said out of nowhere, like he'd heard me thinking. He sat bolt upright, mouth open in horror. "My phone! I jumped in the pool!"
June grinned. "Now, now, Sam, don't forget you're a spoiled rich brat who can just buy a new one."
He eased back into the cushions. "Oh yeah, you're right. I am."
She stifled a laugh, meeting my eyes to exchange a bemused look. Yeah. No doubt.
We were home.