You're So Last Summer

That morning, I was unhappily awoken by my brother’s outrageous snoring. At first, I had shoved my face into my pillow in a poor attempt to muffle the sound, but to no avail. So, I was forced to get up and make my way downstairs to make breakfast; as I was doing at this very moment. I assumed Adam and Casey were not vegetarians like I was, so I opened an already thawed pack of bacon and lay them in parallel layers across the sizzling hot fryer.

I then turned to the newly painted, white cabinets above the stove in search of biscuits—preferably layered—as they were a breakfast classic. Just as I’d found the only blue can with the grinning Dough Boy on the wrapping I heard a loud thud above me. Knowing it was my brother, since his room was just above the kitchen, I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t wait until he finished moving in with his friend, John; who just happened to live in the next town forty odd miles away.

It wasn’t like I hated[i/] my brother, really. It was more so that he got on my nerves. Not in that sibling way, either. Joseph was always trying to control me and just generally run my life. It drove me crazy because I was a very private person and not to mention he’s crashed more relationships of mine that I can count.

Therefore, I would be overjoyed when he packed up the rest of his stuff and split to John’s.

“What are you doing up this early?” My brother asked, slumping into the kitchen looking hung over.

“It’s 10:30.” I said simply, not wanting to talk.

“Ah.” He bobbed his head, looking at the digital clock on the microwave. “Well I’m heading out to John’s to take some more stuff, alright?”

“Okay, whatever.”

“Who’s the chick on the couch?” Joe asked me with a skeptic-parental-like look.

“A friend.” I replied, annoyance seeping through.

“Savannah…” He said warningly, straightening up, crossing his arms. This was his lecture-pose.

“Just go away, please.” I glared, holding my hand up to stop him from protesting. Joseph threw his hands up in exasperation and left the room; stomping all the way. “You better not leave while I’m gone!” He called back from, I was guessing, the top of the stairs.

“Sure thing!” I said back with vague sarcasm. I couldn’t recall ever having to take orders from him and I definitely wasn’t going to start.

I pulled the tab on the biscuit can and wound it around; pushing the layers of dough onto a microwave tray. I spaced them out with the tip of my forefinger so they didn’t stick together when they inflated in the oven before placing the six circles inside vertically; flicking the small light on so I could keep an eye on them.

The bacon crackled and hissed dangerously, signaling that side was probably already burnt. When I went to check, I sighed at the hopeless thick black spots that covered the underside of strips; I never was very good at cooking meat.

With a small hope that maybe I could save the other side, I flipped them over completely, pressing down with the spatula as the small flakes of grease sprung up and stung against my wrist. That was why I hated cooking bacon, it burned like hell.

Finally, after listening hard since my brother left the kitchen, I heard the front door squeak open and slam shut, my brother’s brand new Chevy cranking up--blasting hip-hop music, of course—and speeding away. I let out a sigh of relief, glad he was finally gone for awhile. It felt like I was walking on eggshells around him.

I heard a rough cough, one of those unmistakable smoker’s coughs, to my right and I when I looked I saw the grey eyed boy from earlier—Nike cap on—looking disheveled. “Morning.” I smiled at him cheerfully, emphasizing extra cheer, making him cringe.

“Too early.” He warned sleepily, cradling his head in his hands briefly, before looking up once more; watching me.

“So…how’d you sleep?” I asked politely, attempting to break his concentration from me—I was getting self-conscious.

“You’re bed,” He started with seriousness, still watching me move the bacon onto a plate, “is the most fucking comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on—and I’ve slept on a lot of things.”

I broke into a grin at this, “Well,” I said looking back at him, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, while I slept on my brother’s horrible futon as he snored all night.” I mock glared at him, but he seemed genuinely hurt by this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t have anywhere else to sleep, you should-”

“Stop.” I said sternly, “I was joking, it was fine. Your girlfriend is the one who had it worst, probably. That couch sleeps like shit.” Noting the little ting! the oven made, I began pulling the small tray out, poking at the golden brown, slightly deformed, clumps to see if they were too hard.

“Not my girlfriend.” Adam stated simply, peaking through into the living room to check if she had woken up.

“Smartass.”

“Nope, just a fact.” He shrugged.

“Whatever, man.” I shook my head at him, noticing that he was still watching me, like I was going to make some kind of move. “There’s breakfast.”

I laid out a butter knife and two jars of different kinds of jelly; strawberry and grape.

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to do all this you know. We already owe you enough.” He laughed, flashing me a lopsided grin, proceeding to help himself.

“Shut up, already. You don’t owe me anything, ‘kay? She might though, having to listen to all her whining was pretty tough, after all.” I joked.

“I heard that, I have to deal with it all the time. Gets old.” The grey eyed boy said solemnly, sighing. I was kind of taken aback by how serious this conversation became, I was not one to talk about relationships, especially ones that just ended the night before.

“Just kidding, it’s no big deal. Really.” I smiled reassuringly, pinching a small piece off of his jelly biscuit that was on its way to his mouth and popping it in my own. “That,” he said slowly, “was completely uncalled for.”

I just gave him a toothy grin, slipping another piece. I was glad for the change of subject.

“Okay seriously, I will throw this at you.” Adam rose his golden clump to his eye level threateningly; glaring.

Raising one eyebrow, I gave him a cocky smirk and swiped another tiny lump off the top, before he launched it at me. To my surprise, it hit me square in the forehead; crumbs falling all over the floor. My mouth fell open with shock. “Oh hell no. You did not just do that.”

“Said I would, didn’t I?” Adam grinned with satisfaction, which only made me want revenge that much more.

So, I snatched two biscuits from the warm tray and took off running to other side of the kitchen, only to have him right behind me as I neared the far wall, making an attempt to turn around. Adam stopped me mid-turn, arms around my waist, to try to steal away my biscuits. In all our desperate attempts to keep away the biscuits from one another, they both wound up a scattered bunch of crumbs across the tiled floor; leaving behind a small chunk in my closed fist.

“Jerk.” I muttered childishly, turning in his arms to pout at him. He only gave me a content smile in return.

“Adam?” Called a scratchy, high pitched voice. Casey.

Just as we looked in her direction, she was already in the kitchen, completely frozen in confusion. “Um…what’s…?” She pointed at us, looking hurt. Once I looked up at Adam, it dawned on me how this probably looked to her.

There I was, facing him with his arms secured around my waist, pressing me up against the edge of the counter. I could see exactly how she might look at this. However, it took Adam a minute to realize this, because as I was trying to twist out of his arms, he just looked back down at me and stole that last bite of biscuit that had been secured in my hand—never once saying the first word to the girl.

I made my way back towards her, reaching just behind the refrigerator to retrieve the broom and dustpan to clean up our previous mess. “Um, there’s breakfast.” I said pointing to the only three remaining biscuits and full plate of bacon. She only nodded, looking completely pissed off and her eyes were all watery. I felt horrible, even when I knew her assumptions were wrong, I knew how she must feel. And I also knew no amount of proof could ever show her we were just playing around. Maybe because just then, it really didn’t feel like just playing around, but something—just a little—more.

Casey was standing over the bacon, jabbing a burnt piece violently with the fork I’d laid out for her. “Shouldn’t you be calling Braxton? I need to get home.” She looked up at Adam despondently.

“I already called him. He’s working ‘til 6, but your sister sent me a text. She said she’d come and pick you up when you were ready.” He answered, all business.

Casey looked like she was about to start crying all over again. At this point, I really felt for her, but what could I, a stranger, do?

“But, what about you?” Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m just going to wait for Braxton.”

“Baby—” The desperate ex-girlfriend started, but Adam wasn’t having it.

“Casey, we’re done. We’ve been forcing it for too long and you’re just too—I don’t know, Casey. We just don’t work, okay?” She flinched at this, “So, you should just move on.”

That’s when she broke down and the air was suddenly hard to breathe when all you could here was her heaves and he just stood there.

“Well,fuck.” I said aloud, probably making things worse, but not really caring.

I knew I couldn’t just sit there and stare at the poor girl, because no matter how annoying or how much of a drunken mess she was, she’s still human. I knew how she felt right then and a new resentment bubbled for Adam when he’d said that. I couldn’t quite place why I cared so much for people I just met, but I knew I had to do something before we all suffocated on the tension.

I took a few slow steps towards her to measure the reaction; she didn’t move. “C’mere.” I said sympathetically, putting an arm oddly around her shoulder. I lead her out of the kitchen with on last glance at Adam, who was looking down at his phone.

Casey never said a word as I lead her down the first floor hallway into the bathroom. “Here, uh—Casey, get cleaned up, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

As I walked out, I continued to hear her sobs and she never once said a word to me.

I returned to Adam, who looked utterly relieved. “Kind of unnecessary don’t you think?” I asked in a scolding sort of way.

“If you only knew how it was.” Was his simple answer.

“Actually, I don’t want to know. I’m just asking for y’all to be civil while you’re here.”

“I can do that. Her sister is on her way, do you mind if I wait for Braxton?” He asked, his voice oddly hoarse.

“No problem.” I shrugged, looking back towards the hallway towards the bathroom. “Braxton is the guy who ditched you at the party?” I questioned, making a reference to the night before when he’d mentioned how it was all his friend’s idea and how apparently he had left without them.

Adam chuckled knowingly, barely cracking a smile, though. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“But I might be in and out and there will probably be a one or two people coming over. Kind of the usual for a Saturday, you know.”

“It’s fine.” He added, a little too quickly.

After that, we sat in silence for what felt like forever. The few minutes that passed dragged by mercilessly, as we kept staring at each other’s shoes, waiting for something to break the silence.

“So, um, how old are you?” He asked me shyly, peaking from beneath his hat like a scolded puppy.

I just looked at him for a minute, not sure if I should tell him, or give him an honest answer. Lie. The little voice of reason said in the back of my head. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again, it continued.

“Seventeen.” I blurted the truth faster than I could process the voices logic. Adam just looked at me for a few moments. A puzzled, some what stunned look on his face.

“Oh shit. Dude, I thought you were older than that.” He said slowly.

“Like…?”

He laughed only once, in an ironic sort of way. “Like 18 or 19?”

That almost made me laugh, but of course I had to turn the question around, he barely looked older than me. “How old are you then?”

“Uh—” The grey eyed boy looked down at the white tile and back up at me a few times before he finally heaved a dramatic sigh and said “23, actually.”

“No seriously.”

“I’m serious. Casey just turned 21.”

“Dude, you’re like 3 years short of my brother. Weird.” I joked, “Gettin’ old.” I laughed poking his t-shirt sleeve. “So why were you at a high school party?”

“Braxton is 18, and some of the people there were like almost 30.”

Really? How’d you know?” I asked, shocked.

“The guy’s that live there are like just short of their mid life crisis. They do auto-body work on my car.”

I nodded once, not sure how to react. “Awesome.” I finally said sarcastically. This was just awkward. I couldn’t believe I was the youngest one here. The girl looked about my age!

There was a sudden, sharp rapping on the door and then the door bell rang out through the house a few quick times. Impatient, they were.

“That’s probably her sister.” He informed.

“Oh.” I jogged to the hallway and shouted towards the bathroom. “Hey, uh, Casey! You’re sister’s here to pick you up, I think!”

I heard a muffled sound coming from the other side, then she emerged looking barely better. I only caught a glimpse of her hung over appearance as she hurried past me to the door. She snatched it open looking relieved.

“Let’s go, girl. It’s okay.” Her sister, who looked very much like her, comforted.

“Oh and Adam?” The sister called to where he was standing in the living room doorway. “I hope you know who you’re sleeping with!” Casey cast us a dirty look and as Adam and I both went to protest that statement, the door slammed with a loud clack.

“Fuck.” I cursed, sighing.