Summer Skies and Ocean Eyes

His silhouette was dark against the moonlit water. I gazed at him with quiet fascination as I approached, racking my brain for something witty to make an entrance with. As I stood by his side, I found I had absolutely nothing.

Tommy didn’t turn to acknowledge me, he continued to stare straight ahead. He had changed from his tuxedo into a pair of old basketball shorts, a white undershirt, and what looked to be a very worn, gray zip-up hoodie. I didn’t know how he could stand to wear it in the heat.

I myself was still wearing the white dress: too tired to have put effort into going back upstairs and changing.

There had been a couple stragglers left at the house when I departed, mostly the ones that had consumed too much alcohol and couldn’t tell that it wasn’t polite to hang around anymore. Mom didn’t ask where I was going before I grabbed my raggedy pair of shoes and walked down the front driveway. She had kissed my cheek then let me pass without so much of a goodbye.

The two of us stood there for a chunk of time, not saying anything as the waves sauntered back and forth against the shore. I didn’t think of anything in particular. It was like every part of me was slowly shutting down. But, the need to come see the waves tonight had been stronger than that stupid, sick feeling, so I made it out to the salty, windy beach.

Taking a drowsy breath through my nose, I took off my shoes and tossed them carelessly to the sand beside us. Not caring what Tommy thought, I walked forward, going up to my knees in the ocean. Then--I didn’t know why--I fell down. Maybe my legs decided it was a good time to relax, so I went butt-first into the sandy bottom while the water gushed around me.

Tommy rushed forward. “What the hell are you doing?” He leaned down so that we were at an eye level. Then, I couldn’t help it: I laughed, completely enjoying how the water felt against my sleepy body.

“Sitting.” I rested the palms of my hands against the surface as Tommy pinched his eyebrows together, squatting to get a better view of my face.

“You’re insane,” he concluded.

“I feel like it.” My eyes closed as I tilted my face to the moon. If I could, I would fall asleep like this, under the never-ending sky night while being held on to by the ocean.

“Can you really not sleep if you don’t come here?”

I didn’t miss the doubtful tone of his voice as I nodded, grabbing some sand below the water to squish between my fingers.

“What about you? What’s so important that you be here at this exact time?” The rush of waves were the only thing that followed my question. I figured he wasn’t going to answer, until I heard a slurp of water beside me.

Cracking my eyes open, I looked over to see Tommy sitting next to me, completely emerging his basketball shorts and the bottom of his sweatshirt in the ocean. For the first time since I met him, he almost felt like a part of my world, like he had one foot in it while timidly keeping the other in his.

“This is the only time I can make a clean escape.” He said it like he was talking to himself. It wasn’t until he turned his head to face me that I realized he remembered I was here. “What about you? Why this time?”

I shrugged, letting out a pathetic laugh. “To tell you the truth, right now, it’s because I don’t want to let you have your way. And I guess it’s the perfect time for me to sneak out, too.”

Tommy moaned, dropping his head so far in exasperation that his chin was resting on his chest. With a deep breath, he lifted it back up. “Great.”

That was the last word exchanged between us. We sat there for another hour in complete silence. Neither of us got out of the water, or even moved.

I knew it was strange, but I felt almost okay that Tommy was here, enjoying the ocean with me. It was nice to have someone to share it with, even if I didn’t like him all that much.

By the time I decided I should head back to Jon’s house, Tommy also rose to his feet. We went our separate ways without so much as a glance at each other.

On the walk home, my eyes felt heavy and tired. My mind was too exhausted for thinking about anything else than the soft bed that was awaiting me. Within seconds of my head making contact with the pillow after I got home, I soundly fell asleep.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

“So, do you like Poot or something?” Kendall asked out of nowhere, clutching The Big Book of Tide Pools to her chest as she leaned over to glance into one. I pretended like I didn’t hear her question at first, gently pressing my finger against a starfish. It wiggled against my touch, but seemed otherwise unimpressed with my presence.

“Uh...he’s okay.” I went the safe route. After one more careful prod, I pulled my hand back to give the odd creature a break. We were the only people on the rocky beach, which was actually nice. It was private property, owned by one of Jon’s friends. There was a small pocket of sandy beach that melded downshore with a surplus of pebbles, which eventually led to the large slates of gray rock horizontally jutting from the ground that we were exploring on. It was filled with a surplus of tide pools, Jon told me this morning that Kendall came here at least once every week to check them out.

It made me happy to know that beneath her Plastic Girl façade, there was a cool person with an inner nerd when it came to marine biology. Not like she would admit it, but the way her eyes sparkled as she rambled on and on about the various sea life that lived in these little pools said enough.

Past the rocks, Griffin was surfing. Or, trying to surf, on the virtually flat waves that were coming in. I guessed that he had been forcefully taken on enough of Kendall’s trips to know to bring something else to do.

“No,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes before plopping beside me on the smooth chunk of rock. “I mean, like like.”

“Like like? Like, like like-like?” I teased, which only resulted in a very annoyed look. Clearing my throat--that now felt much better--I shrugged, letting myself become entranced with the colorful ecosystem in front of me. Pockmarked along the separate layers of rocks that would normally be below sea level during high tide, the tide pools were incredibly full of life. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just wondering. We’re supposed to be bonding, remember?” Kendall sarcastically remarked, putting her book down on her lap and flipping through it. The Big Book of Tide Pools was this huge, dog-eared thing, like it had been on a few too many of these expeditions. Loose papers filled with rough drawings and Kendall’s bubbly writing were poking out from random chunks of pages.

I sighed, looking toward the bright blue ocean. There had been a quick storm today, barely any rain had fallen as a couple small strips of charcoal clouds rumbled by. It left Naples with a crystal clear day, making the sky and water almost the same color.

“Right. I really don’t know him that well.” I leaned back as the sun pressed against me with smothering heat, it would have been unbearable if it wasn’t for the breeze.

Kendall snorted, shaking her head. “That is such a safe answer.”

“It’s true,” I chimed. Unless they were close friends of mine, the topic of boys had never reigned at top importance with me. I dated every now and then, had two boyfriends to show for it over the years, but it was always more my job to help friends out with guy problems than worry about my own.

In addition to that, up until she met Jon, Mom had more than enough boy trouble between the two of us. There had been Rob “I Swear That’s Medical Marijuana for My...Cough?” Johnson, Craig “Can I Borrow One Hundred Bucks and Your Car” Reynolds, and Ray “I Was Starting QB For My High School’s Team And I Still Talk About It All The Time Twenty Years Later” Fredrickson, to name the best of the group.

To say I was happy she and Jon were together was a massive understatement.

“Or, is Tommy more up your alley?” Kendall coyly asked with a suggestive look. I sighed, swinging my feet into the warm water of the tide pool, right next to the impartial starfish.

“Definitely not.” Even if I wanted to talk about Poot, it most definitely wouldn’t be with Kendall. Carissa knew somewhat about what was going on with him and Tommy, but would lose interest before launching into a retelling of her latest adventure without me. “He’s...kind of an asshole.”

“You know, his brother committed suicide like, almost a year ago now.” Kendall didn’t miss a beat. My gut dropped at the carefree way she had said it, and again felt guilty for gossiping about something so personal.

“You say it like it’s some kind of excuse,” I mumbled. Kendall gave me a look that showed just how stupid she found what I was saying.

“He’s been through a lot, you know? His parents are like, super strict, there’s all these rumors about them because they’re kind of scary. Plus, him and his brother used to spend a lot of time together. So it was probably kind of scarring when Tommy was the one who walked into Drew’s room to find him-”

“Kendall,” I interrupted, feeling like clapping my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to know.”

She was less than amused at my reaction. “I’m just saying. I think he has the right to be an asshole. I heard Mr. Michaels talking about it with Dad at the party about it being, like, the one year anniversary of it next week.”

“Sucks.” Was all I could reply. I must have seemed like a brat to Kendall, but I truly didn’t believe that when something bad happens to someone, it gives them a right to treat other people like crap. I couldn’t stand Tommy’s superior looks.

Griffin let out a sharp call of frustration, causing me to look to just in time to see him bit it, hard, into a ripple of a wave. Kendall and I paused, looking at each other, then bursting into a bout of laughter. The building tension of the conversation faltered as we watched him resurface, then grudgingly swim to his surfboard.

This was difficult, but at least we were trying.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

“There.” Mom caringly smoothed her hands over the sides of Kendall’s head, pressing down the few out-of-place hairs that strayed from the braided headband. It was beautifully crossed over the top of her head, continuing past her temple toward her neck, where it gathered in a loose bun.

I admired it then went back to putting the Traffic Cone Orange laces in my soccer cleats. It was my lucky color: I loved the way it blurred when I ran.

Kendall lowered the small mirror she had been using to watch Mom’s skillful hands, grinning in a way I had never seen her smile before. “It’s perfect, Laura. Thanks.”

“It’s just a stupid braid.” Griffin was not very interested with the hair session that was going on in the living room, but had decided to plop himself on the love seat with his Gameboy anyway. His big sister ignored him from where she sat at Mom’s feet in front of the couch, admiring her reflection in the widescreen TV across the room.

“I can never get mine to look like this,” she said, turning her head from side to side.

Mom squeezed her shoulders. “That comes with practice, my dear.” She turned her attention to me, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do yours too, Cal?”

I nodded, finishing stringing the hole before pulling my own hair into a ponytail. “Yeah. It’ll just get messed up in the first half hour, anyway.”

There was a nervous sludge in my stomach that I hadn’t felt for a long time, at least not since soccer tryouts my freshman year. It was the kind of feeling where there’s too much excitement: it twists and turns my insides so I almost felt sick.

Today was my first day going out to condition with Emily and the others, and I was almost scared about how I was going to measure up. There was so much to prove, and all I could do was hope I could keep pace with the rest of them. At least when playing soccer back home, I knew where I ranked and could be comfortable with it.

“Come on, you’ll make more friends if your hair looks cute,” Mom joked, giving me that begging puppy look.

Doing my hair had been one of our things when it was just the two of us. She would get out all her hairspray, bobby pins, curling irons, and flatteners, and the two of us would sit on her bed and talk while she styled my hair over and over again. As nice as it was that she and Kendall were able to bond the same way, I felt a little jealous that our special thing was being shared with others.

“Yeah. Because I want to make the kind of friends that will like me only because my hair is cute,” I sarcastically said, narrowing my eyes.

“I’m only trying to help, because you sure as hell aren’t going to make them with your personality,” Mom bantered, shaking her head at me with exaggerated attitude.

“Like mother like daughter.”

She stuck out her tongue at my remark, to which I readily replied with my own. For the tiniest of seconds, I realized Kendall stopped checking out her hair and was watching the two of us with a quiet expression, but as soon as our eyes connected she joltingly looked away.

“Fine. Guess I’ll have to do Griffin’s hair instead,” Mom sighed, reaching over as far as she could to poke the boy who was trying his hardest to pretend he wasn’t paying attention.

His eyes got big as he looked up from his Gameboy. “What!?”

I smiled, getting to my feet and stuffing my shoes into the athletic bag. They might have been old, and I could imagine the swank kinds of cleats the other girls would be sporting, but they were perfectly worn in: one more season left in them.

“I’m heading out.” Emily said that one of the girls in their carpool lives right down the street, so I’m going to meet them there,” I explained, swinging the bag over my shoulder and taking deep breaths in through my nose in an effort to not feel so nervous.

Mom nodded, going back to tucking loose ends back into Kendall’s bun. “Okay, good luck, Cal. And have fun. We’ll be here if you need anything, holding Griffin down and doing his hair and makeup.”

“My face is pretty enough without the makeup,” he sarcastically boasted, causing Kendall to groan. “But I just remembered I was supposed to meet someone at...somewhere or something.”

Before another word could be said, he made a speedy escape up to his room. The sound of his door securely slamming shut echoed down the hall and stairs.

I smiled to myself. “See you guys later.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

So I was out of shape, unfortunately.

Jon hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Naples High School had a phenomenal girl’s soccer program. The dedicated group of about thirty girls from JV and Varsity were all in top condition, acting like the two-mile warm up at the beginning was a brisk walk.

On my old team, half of the girls didn’t even want to be there, and were less excited about putting forth a passable effort. Here, soccer was basically their life: most of them dreamed or planned on continuing to play all the way through college. It was nice to be surrounded by people who had the same passion as me, but it was a much different environment than conditioning practices back home.

Luckily for me, I still had the natural ability, so I was just below the lower half of girls when it came to finishing most things. But even with my rankings, I was still struggling. Working out in the Florida heat literally made me feel like I was about to die at the end of every exercise: it clamped my lungs shut and burned my body.

I was too stubborn to stop, intent on showing these girls that I could be a part of what they were. After practically being the best back home, it only made me work harder when I realized I wasn’t close to being on top here.

It hurt and hurt, but I finished with all I was worth.

“You okay, Calico?” Emily was nice enough to come and check on me after I plopped to the ground at the end of our last set of sprints. By the look on her face, I must have appeared as if I was on the verge of death. I only had it in me to nod from where I sat, gathering up the motive to bring my warm water bottle to my lips. It was vital that I try and stay hydrated, but I didn’t have the power.

She let out a small giggle, sitting beside me and stretching her legs.

“See you Thursday, Em!” A group of girls who had always been at the head of the pack, along with Emily, walked past as they waved goodbye. “And hey, you too, Calico!”

I didn’t know why I was so surprised they had included me, but I waved back with my arm that was limp from doing so many push-ups. We hadn’t gotten into our cleats all day, it was two solid hours of exercising.

“How are you feeling after your first official day with the Golden Eagles soccer team?” Emily asked, eyes squinting against the shun that was shining in our faces. I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head at my own out of shape body.

“I feel like it’s going to take a lot more than two days a week to get me back to my best,” I grumbled. There was something embarrassing about not being the Ace player anymore, I wasn’t used to other people finishing before me or getting more praise. There were some real superstars down here.

“Whatever. That’s what the Summer and Fall are for. Getting back in shape from the end of the season last winter,” she encouraged, tucking some hair that had fallen from her tiny ponytail behind her ear. Emily was one of those girls who could still look acceptable after a grueling workout. Me, on the other hand...we’re not going to get into that.

“See, that’s what’s different about being down here. At my old high school, boys soccer was in the Fall, and girls was in Spring. If it would have been during the winter, we would have been shoveling snow off the iced fields and playing in below zero degree weather some days.

Emily laughed at the image, it seemed too unreal for her to grasp. “That is different.”

“I feel pretty disgusting after not working out for about a month, but part of me feels really good to be getting back into it, you know?” It was easy to talk to her, I felt like we clicked on some level where we didn’t have to work at making conversation or getting along.

“Yeah. We loathe it while we’re working out, but it’s the only way we can really feel right. You’ve got that natural athlete in you, I can tell by how hard you work,” she complimented, throwing that simple smile my way.

I sighed, feeling the throb of my heart all the way down to my toes. “I’ve got a long way to go.”

“Keep working as hard as you did today, and you’ll get there and no time. We might even get to kick a ball around for a bit next week: praiselordjesushallelujah. Tiffany, the captain, usually plans all the stuff we do and is hardcore when it comes to making sure we’re in shape before we play,” Emily said, getting to her feet. She reached down a hand like she had the day Poot tackled me at the beach. “Let’s get going, our carpool looks like they’re ready to leave.”

I grabbed her hand: she pulled me up with no problem, and the two of us left the empty field behind.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

I didn’t have any plans the next morning, so when Mom asked me to go run some errands with her, a couple horrifically bad excuses tumbled out of my mouth before I gave up and agreed to go.

After hitting up the local farmer’s market for some apples, a small work-out shop for a yoga-mat, and the orthodontist to pick up a cleaning apparatus for Griffin’s braces, we pulled up to the back entrance of Quail Creek Country Club.

“I have to run in really quick, Yvette and I decided to sign up for tennis lessons. Are you coming in?” Mom asked, grabbing her Coach purse from the backseat. I shrugged, but found my feet getting out of the car without me making up my mind.

The air was heavy and danker than usual. Dark clouds were sweeping over the sky and bringing with them a rumble of thunder and the occasional flash of lightening. It had started to sprinkle, pattering here and there against the death black tar of the parking lot.

Mom was a fast walker, but I was used to it as the two of us practically jogged past a big wooden sign with the words Main Offices etched in white. Breaking into the hit-by-a-brick air conditioning once entering, the two of us straightened ourselves out.

It was obvious Mom had already been here plenty of times before, because she knew exactly where to go as we wound through the building. Everything was exceptionally clean and lavish, from the white marble floors to the extravagant decorative plants and paintings. Some kind of classical music played from speakers I couldn’t find.

Being my comfortable-over-style self, I didn’t feel like I looked right trailing through the lobby. Mom walked up to a large, crescent-shaped desk made out of the shiniest, prettiest wood I had ever seen. The person behind it, wearing a black tuxedo with a lavender tie, glanced up.

“Good afternoon, may I see your card?” he asked, revealing a palate full of fake teeth that matched his snow-white hair.

“Yes, here’s my membership card-” Mom fumbled around her purse, tongue slightly sticking out with the effort. I saw my window of opportunity, she had put it in her back pocket as we left the house earlier today, probably trying to think ahead so she wouldn’t have to surf through her bag in the first place.

But, as soon as I opened my mouth to remind her, she patted her back pocket. “Aha! Here it is!”

The man didn’t look as excited as she was, I could see his smile start to pull tight at the corners. Mom placed the card on the desk, which Suit Man took his time in checking, making sure everything was real and signed where it should have been. I found a small blurb of comfort at the fact that even though Mom had changed, at least she still wasn’t considered one of them.

“And how may I help you?” Suit Man crisply pushed the card toward my mom with his pointer and middle finger. I tuned them out as she started expressing her desire to sign up for tennis lessons, going across the room to settle in the Victorian Era styled waiting chairs.

A woman was whisper-talking on her phone, where she was trying to keep her voice quiet but it echoed around the room. I also managed to successfully tune her out until she said “-it’s odd that the Roses would have that large of a service planned. They haven’t said much about Drew’s death this whole year. Word is that his little brother, Thomas, hasn’t handled it well.”

I became alive again from the zombie-like state I settled in when running around with Mom. Perking my ears and trying my best not to seem like I was being rude and listening in, I crossed my legs and nonchalantly leaned back in the chair.

“Mhm...Mhm...” The woman nodded. She looked to be a little older than my mom, wearing a pink scarf tied around her neck. It was the only splash of color on her otherwise all-white ensemble. “I’m not sure how he’ll handle the memorial next week, poor child. All of that attention over something he’d rather forget. The Roses always did have a way of being too extravagant.”

Staring at the shiny white floor, I continued to listen to the woman gossip about it like it was happening on her latest soap opera. Poot was right, things travel through this town like nobody’s business. “Mhm, yes. I can understand having a service for someone who died of cancer or in a car accident, but suicide? It lacks a bit of class.”

The woman broke into a chortling fit.

“Ready to go?” Mom’s voice came out of nowhere, hooking me and pulling me back to the surface.

I quickly stood to my feet, head swimming. “Yeah.”

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Carissa was supposed to have called an hour ago. She said she was going to lacrosse practice, then as soon as she got home, she was going to call. Rissa may have been jumble-headed, but she almost never forgot to call when she said she would.

It was ridiculous, but I hated feeling unneeded by her. I had spent our whole friendship being mommy to her, being the one she always went to. And now, with Mom acting strange, I didn’t know where I fit into their lives anymore.

Caving after waiting another fifteen minutes, deciding to send a long e-mail to Dad on my cheap laptop to try and distract myself. My mind was going crazy with possibilities of what was going on. Maybe Carissa really was doing fine without me, and now that she was gone, she figured there was no reason to keep in touch like we had promised time and time again before I moved.

My calls and e-mails to other friends were also noticeably dwindling. With all this space between us now, we were running out of things to talk about.

Thinking about that, I desperately dialed her number, listening to it ring and ring, only to get sent to voicemail.

“Hey Riss.” The way I tried to make my voice light and airy only made it sound creepy. “It’s Calico. I just realized that you hadn’t called, and was checking in to see if you were around...Guess I’ll talk to you sooner or later.”

It could have been the dumbest message I’ve ever left on someone’s phone, if it wasn’t for the particularly awkward break-up one I left on my first boyfriend’s cell. At fourteen, I hadn’t known any better.

No sooner had I sat my phone on the desk in Jon’s guest room when it rang, causing me to jump at its suddenness.

Rissa! My heart soared as I flipped my phone open. “Hey!”

“Hey Cal! What’s going on?” It took a second for my brain to register that it wasn’t Carissa’s voice coming through the speaker, but Emily’s. Shaking my head, I fought the impulse to sigh in disappointment.

“Nothing, hanging around my room,” I mumbled, not easily masking how I felt. Emily paused on the other end.

“Hanging around your room? That’s it?”

My eyes searched my surroundings for an excuse, then settled on the full boxes stacked in the corner. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Lilia when she was constantly telling me to get them unpacked. “I uh- I was unpacking my stuff.”

“Really? You moved in almost two weeks ago.”

“Well, you know. I’ve been...busy,” I said, sounding lamer: if that was possible.

“Whatever, I’ll help help you unpack, then. My parents are driving me up the wall so I was calling to see if you wanted to go see a movie, but this sounds like much more fun. Give me ten minutes.” And then she hung up on me.

I stared at my phone for minutes after the conversation abruptly ended, before making my way downstairs to wait for her. For some reason, I didn’t believe she was really coming over until I saw her Ford pull into Jon’s driveway. I knew she had known where I lived, she had still been in the car when I was dropped off from the carpool yesterday. But I hadn’t expected her to visit so soon, and without me asking...

“Where’s your room?” Emily didn’t say hello as she walked past me in her Free City tank top and Juicy Couture boxer shorts, removing her flip-flops before walking through the foyer to the living room. Kendall and Sara were separately texting on the couch, barely watching whatever trashy reality show that was blaring on the TV. They glanced up uninterestedly, then saw who had came in and sat at full attention.

“Hey girls,” Emily warmly greeted, then pointed up the staircase. “Is it up here?”

I nodded, watching as she flounced up the steps.

“That was Emily Kwon, right?” Kendall asked, the look on her fact sort of matching the one she gave Poot and Tommy.

“Yeah.” I didn’t wait for more questions, and followed my new friend up the staircase.
Emily had already found which room was occupied by me and was poking through the boxes as I joined her. Normally a clean-freak, it was hard for me to watch her push my things around and disrupt everything I had so carefully packed, but her presence more than made up for it.

“See,” she chirped, emerging from one box twenty minutes later with a CD in her hand. “This is how I know you’re cool: Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

I smiled from where I sat on the floor beside her, surrounded by a mess of things that were seeing their first light of day since they had been packed. Emily clicked open the CD case, going to my laptop and sliding it in. Moments later, Anthony Keidis was crooning to us.

“Do you know he named his kid Everly Bear?” she asked, eyes bright as she joined me again on the floor. I hiccuped a laugh, scrunching my nose at the thought.

“Everly Bear. Poor kid. But that’s not the worse one I’ve heard. The main character of Leave it to Earl named his baby Pilot Inspektor.”

“Really? Jeez. Imagine those kids going to school and the teacher yelling ‘Pilot Inspektor! I told you to stop poking Everly Bear!’” Emily mused, causing us to chuckle together. I hadn’t had this much fun hanging out with someone in a long time. It was nice to fall back into that part of myself I was when with a friend.

We continued to joke around like that for a while, and toward dinnertime when I could start to smell the spices that were only created when it was Lilia’s night to cook, we were basically done with putting everything in place.

There was nothing left in my boxes, they were haphazardly piled on top of each other in the other corner of the room.

Emily stretched her arms into the air, falling to the bed with a luxurious groan. “Wow, I’m tired.”

Leaning my back against the glass door--my sweatshirt acting as a buffer between me and the cold glass--I silently agreed. My body was still insanely sore from conditioning yesterday, and taking every single thing I owned and putting it away had been no easy chore.

I twisted open the bottle of coral nail polish that I unpacked, ready to pay some attention to my toenails for the first time since I moved here. After I was done painting the first nail, the harsh smell of nail polish mixed with whatever Puerto Rican Special Lilia was concocting downstairs.

“Hey, I forgot to ask you, have you talked to Tommy at all lately?” Emily asked, pulling her head toward her chest to get a view of me. My body hesitated, stupefied by his sudden mention. Our last couple encounters at the beach flashed through my mind, but the words stayed buried in my throat as I shook my head no.

She frowned to herself before plopping her head back down. “That’s bizarre. Tommy, Poot, me, and a couple others were at the diner for a late breakfast this morning, and out of nowhere, he turned to me and asked if you were coming.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, perplexed at why he would ask about me. Maybe he had been making sure I wasn’t going to come and ruin his morning.

“The guy hasn’t really talked to me at all this past year, then out of nowhere, he’s all ‘Did you invite Calico to come?’ I was too astonished that he was looking at me to answer right away. On top of that, there was something on-edge about him today. Maybe it’s because Drew’s one-year is coming up or something.”

“Did he say anything after that?” I could hear the door open and shut downstairs, followed by Jon’s jolly greeting of “I’m home!” then “Kendall, does the TV have to be that loud?”

Emily bounced her legs where they draped off the side of the bed. “Not really. After I told him no he said ‘Oh. Thanks.’ Then that was that. I wanted to ask why, but even though we were friends before, I don’t feel like I can talk to him now.”

A small crash of disappointment hit me, I didn’t know why I had hoped he said more. “You said you guys used to be kind of close?”

“Yeah. He took me to homecoming my freshman year. I had the most epic crush on him, but things never worked out. After that, we hung out all the time. I know we weren’t BFFs or anything, but it’s still sad. I feel like he looks right through me these days,” Emily’s voice became quiet, then she caught herself. “But whatever. You missed out. Tommy used to have the most to-die-for smile. Even better than Poot’s.”

I pressed the back of my head against the glass. “That’s hard to believe.” Going in to paint my next toenail, I realized I had waited too long and the paint had solidified on the brush. Not feeling like putting anymore effort into it, I put the lid back on and screwed it shut.

Emily was uncharacteristically silent, lost in her thoughts as I waded through my own. I didn’t know how long we were like that until she whispered, almost inaudibly. “He was cool, Cal. I think you really would have liked him.”

“Maybe I would have,” I answered, just as low.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼