CHAPTER ELEVEN: THERE'S A DIFFERENCE
"And there stands a lone pea."
I don't bother shaking my head or rolling my eyes. I just stare back at Zack as he continues to trot away from me on the sidewalk. Correction: as he continues to grin and happily slap his feet against the pavement.
"I would ask what your favorite thing to eat for thanksgiving is, but . . ." He throws his hands up in a shrug, and that's when Trent finally reaches up and whacks the back of his head. Or at least he attempts to, but Zack only gets a scrape to the neck because of both his extra few inches in height and his intuition to cower away. "My favorite is mashed potatoes in case anyone is wondering," Zack continues once he makes it to the passenger side of a small black car.
I can only bring myself to wrinkle my nose as the wind whips my ponytail around, and my fingers continue to curl around my small duffel bag.
"You don't like mashed potatoes?" Zack's yell makes me laugh as I shake my head. I hear Trent's gasp just before his head pops back up from behind the trunk.
"And I was even going to offer you a ride." Trent shakes his head.
Zack mimics his actions as he chews on a red licorice.
"Seriously, though," Trent continues after slamming his trunk closed and walking over to the driver's side of the car. "Are you sure you don't need a ride? I mean, we go to the same grocery store so you must live pretty close."
I tilt my head to the side, and my lips quiver before I can help it. I can't decide whether to take him seriously or make a joke about stalking. I guess Trent begins conjuring up the latter as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck.
"You know what I mean," he offers, but now Zack's shaking his head at him as he continues to pull candy out of his navy-blue puffy vest pocket.
People continue to zip into and out of their cars and into and out of the parking lot. I'm sure my nose is red, and my fingers are almost numb, but it's all worth it when a chorus of car doors slam, and the blonde strands of my sister's hair go flying into the wind.
"Lacie!" she squeals before I'm sandwiched and squished by my family's warmth.
****
As soon as I got home, I threw on my favorite pajamas, plopped down on the couch with my fluffiest blanket, and haven't moved since. Except when it came to chowing down one of my favorite dinners: penne alla vodka. No restaurant compares to the way my parents make it, even though my parents constantly ask who makes it better between the two of them.
My sister's feet are stretched out beside my stomach as she lays opposite of me on the couch with her own blanket and pajamas. My dad is stretched out across the two-person couch beside me while my mom is curled up on the one-person couch beside my sister. All of us have our faces in our own technological devices, all chatted out, but we still have the television on because we still can't decide what movie to watch.
I hope this isn't weird, but I didn't know you had a little sister
I wait a minute before typing back a reply.
Yeah sorry I never said goodbye
Don't be sorry. Trent's reply floats in on top of my aimless scrolling. I wish my family was that excited to see me. I flick the messages away to finish the video I'm watching, and another text floats in as soon as I finish. Actually, my dog is, and he actually enjoys cuddling with me.
I glance up to find my sister staring back at me. Just her eyes are poking out from between her bangs and blanket.
"What?" I ask when she doesn't stop. I even go as far as to nudge her with my foot.
She rips the blanket down to reveal her grin. "Why are you smiling?"
That's when I realize my lips are trying to defy gravity again, and I nudge her a little harder in attempt to downplay it.
"Stop!" I yell when she only reciprocates my kicks.
"No, you stop!"
"No, you!"
It's good to be home.
****
Finals are officially on the horizon. I mean, they've always been there, sitting at the end of each syllabus, but now they're burning bright like the rising sun. Highlighted on paper, in my planner, and in my phone.
With each class I go to, I'm only dumped with more test dates, study guides and topics, final reading assignments, and paper questions. I'm trying not to freak out, but that doesn't mean I haven't already called my mom on the verge of overthinking, pre-stressing panic. Of course, she said I'll be fine, it'll be over before I know it, and I'll be home before I know it. All reassuring and motivational.
It also helps that I'm still learning new things in my classes. The new things keep my mind distracted, my pen moving across my notebooks, and finals in the near future where they belong.
However, Trent's leg has been bouncing up and down for the last forty minutes.
Okay, that's an exaggeration.
There have been a few intermissions, but they have been few and far between. And it's all distracted me more than Professor Collins' words.
I've dwindled it down to two things.
The reality of finals has also dawned on him, or he has to pee.
"All right, we've got two more readings on Aristotle to go through next week. Then, we review. Any questions?" Professor Collins holds out his hands as his beady eyes scan over the room. When all he receives is silence and blank stares, he claps his hands back together. "Go eat."
I take his words as permission to finally flip my notebook closed, while Trent's knee takes them as permission to start bouncing again. It doesn't last long because soon he's standing up and pushing in his seat. I follow suit and begin trudging up the platform-like steps, but his hand flies next to my head to catch the door from the girl ahead of us.
"That was brutal."
"Yeah." I nod. "It dragged a little today."
Feet scrape and squeak against the hallway as everyone heads for the exits. We walk out the same exit we always do before stopping at the far edge of the cement pathway where we always stop. Only today Trent teeters on the grass a little.
"So, I was wondering," he starts but then goes to scratch the back of his neck. "I mean, I know timing may be tight with classes ending soon and finals, but—" Trent moves his head to block the sun I've been squinting at, and we trade smiles for a second before he's back to teetering. "But, um, so I was wondering if you wanted to—"
"Yo, Trent!"
Trent's sneakers finally sink into the grass as he whirls around. There is a group—no—a gaggle of guys hanging out on the cement pathway all the way on the left. Trent flicks his hand up in a wave, but that only promotes their whistles and catcalling as they also teeter into the same large patch of grass we're on the edge of.
"Sorry, uh, I was just wondering if—"
"Trent!" the yell is louder and harsher, but the guys only continue to laugh when the other people walking by whip their heads around.
Trent looks torn as he lifts his bag strap higher up on his shoulders. "I'm sorry about"—he waves his hand before taking a step closer— "Do you want to go out with me sometime?"
"Go out." Not "hang out." There's a difference, and my internal sirens are blaring.
"You know." Trent scratches his jaw before pulling at the skin there. "I just figured before we go on break."
"Okay," I hear myself say before I shake my head. "I mean, yes."
Trent froze as soon as I opened my mouth, but now I watch as the muscles he has pinched between his fingers curl up to reveal his teeth.
"Okay," he breathes before finally dropping his hand. "Cool." He stuffs his hands in his sweatpants pockets and flashes me with a full smile as he takes a step back. "I'll text you."
I check behind me before mimicking the step. "Okay."
Trent sends me one more smile and a nod as he takes another step back. I send him my own version of his usual tipped up lips as I take another step. Then, we both duck, turn, and go our separate ways. That's when I finally allow a full-blown smile to grace my lips. A smile that I don't care who happens to see.