A Step to Love

“Summer plan,” Jake read aloud to us as he finished writing on a small notebook. We waited in silence for him to continue, but he didn’t

“What are you even doing here?” Alex leaned over Jake’s shoulder to see whatever Jake was writing now.

For a moment, Jake looked up, confused, toward me. “He’s coming with us,” I said aloud, trying to get everybody’s attention.

Brit turned her sight from a magazine she was reading, as did Joe and Gabriel whom were taken in between the development of a move pilot. I saw Gabriel shrug. “Sounds reasonable.”

Jake turned to the notebook again. “What plans do you guys have in mind?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Last year I couldn’t go, but we always go away for a whole month and just…hang out.”

“Hang out?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“…or we could do something else,” Brit’s croaky voice suggested. We all turned to her.

We were doing a lot of head movement today, huh?

I couldn’t help but to look around to see everybody else’s reaction. Brit had spoken to me last night (she asked if she could borrow my brush), but she hadn’t spoken to them in over two months. There were smiles dancing around in the guys’ faces. Those two months were the same amount since Sasha’s parting whether we believed it or not.

Everything happened too fast for my taste.

“What do you suggest, then?” I asked her. She seemed pleased that I had considered her opinion.

“Well,” she started under a whisper, “what about creating our own ‘summer camp’?”

“I’m listening…”

Her eyes gleamed with excitement, coloring her mood all of the sudden. “See, we could look for a place and create our home-made activities.”

“Such as…?” Gabriel urged.

“Carnival-like activities; popping balloons with darts—oh, we can even do a painting like in the ‘Princess Diaries’ movie where Mia and her mom pop balloons that are filled with paint.”

I flushed. She became so excited, I could help but to add some conversation. “Have you ever noticed that Mia screams ‘I did it’ when it was actually her mom the one who popped the balloon?”

She laughed. “I know!”

For a moment, I thought about it…and only hoped this wouldn’t be the only time Brit would give herself permission to be happy.

I smiled a pleased smile; a wider smile. The gleam in her eyes was overwhelming. “Sounds cool to me.” I turned to the others. “That’s a plan?”

~*~*~*~*~

In just a week, we went all the way, preparing ourselves for summer. We made a list—a really long list (that had to be shortened) of the things we would use for that month, including food and shelter.

We had three options: a community center, a hotel down in Virginia Beach or a small cabin that belonged to Joe’s grandfather. That last choice was the most accessible thanks to the strong connection they both shared.

Brit on the other hand, didn’t seem to like the idea so much, so I figured (considering her recent change of mood), that it was the perfect time to ask her about her status.

“Hey,” I approached her slowly; she turned, caught in the act of drinking a beverage full of carbohydrates.

She gulped a mouth of the drink and set it down on the kitchen’s table. “Hey.”

Brit still had several bags under her eyes that she hadn’t bother to fix with make-up. She wasn’t wearing pink anymore; not since the funeral. Maybe if I went straight to the point, it wouldn’t bother me the fact that she had changed.

It was not an easy thing to deal with, but even though I didn’t want to accept it myself, as Jake had said, it was time to let go. The perfect way to let go is to not think about it, but I had just had to make sure my Brittany was right. I needed to be sure that she was safe and I needed to know if she was truly okay. “Can I ask you something?”

She smiled. “Anything.”

“What happened between you and Joe?”

Her smile faded. “Except that…” She turned, reaching for the fridge to hide her soda and walked away.

“Why?” Her movements stopped.

“I don’t really…want to talk about it.” This was always the perfect excuse to avoid any subject. I knew Brittany more than that. I knew she did to want to talk about it.

I wanted to nothing more than insist, but something held me back and I let Brit go.

Thousand possibilities crossed my mind as in what Joe had done…or vice versa (really hoping not). I didn’t want to think the worst, but of course, I’m like an eight-year-old; I do exactly what you tell me not to out of pure curiosity.

One thing I was sure of, though, was that whatever it was, Joe had to be careful.

~*~*~*~*~

7:49pm. Patricia’s House, Oaklyn, New Jersey.

He was only a few feet away from the stairs, leaning against a great part of the wall. Staring…into thin space. He wore a leather jacket, incrusted in several shiny dots. His cigar, hanging from the edge of his wide mouth, the end, only a quarter away from his straight nose. His eyes wondered to the left, then to the right. Not a single movement coming from his hands that were holding onto his pockets.

“What are you doing…?” The Thing asked. He took a hold of appearance, snickering seconds later. “Is that mine?”

I followed his gaze to a giant gray coat I had found in the closet. Well if it was in your closet…

“Noung,” was all that managed to go past the stuffed doughnut in my mouth.

He stared for a while.

My hair was probably a mess tied in a bun thanks to my blue pen, I had Nana’s round glasses on, which I had managed to take out of the small sofa in the corner, and I had my diary lying on my lap while I sat in one of the dinning table’s chairs. I must’ve looked pretty dumb.

I sighed after swallowing and stared at Joe. My lack of imagination surprised me. Joe was dressed in normal clothes, and he was actually drenched in the television next to Jake and Gabriel.

I turned my sight to close my diary while from the corner of my eye, I watched Alex shift a bit.

My hands stopped fidgeting with the book, when I felt another hand touch it. I lifted my gaze, and he seemed to had removed his hand away.

“So…,” I tried to form a casual conversation, which apparently never seemed possible whenever I was with him. “You…excited”—I flinched—“interested—happy?” I didn’t realize how ironically wrong those words sounded. “Sorry,” I whispered more to myself.

He chuckled a bit more and pulled out a chair for himself so he could sit next to me. Once he sat, he commented, “I guess…I am…sort of.”

“Cool…”

And here is probably where we insert that awkward moment where you want to talk to the other person, but you don’t know what to say.

“You still work at that awful place?”

I was surprised. “McDonalds?”

“Whatever you want to call it. They don’t even sell real meat.”

“I wouldn’t know; I’m just a cashier.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know exactly. Because Puck said that’s all I could do?”

“No, why are you working?” He said, like not believing. “You have everything you need here without that responsibility. Why don’t you just take it and be done with it?”

I knew the reason why. Why did I have to explain myself everywhere I went? “It wouldn’t be fair to Pat. She works harder than most parents. She’s taking care of four to five people.”

He shrugged. “Mom doesn’t want you to help her. It makes her feel, eh, what’s the word?”

“Inferior?” He shook his head. “Not wanted?”

“No.” He thought a bit harder. “She just would really appreciate if you just focused on being a teenager. She wants you to dance.”

I laughed. “Did she pay you to say that?”

He lifted a brow. “No, and even if she did, I would have said it anyway. You worry too much about others and don’t focus really on your thoughts.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Just do it.”

“No way, stupid,” I said, pushing Gabriel’s face out of my sight so I could focus on Deep Blue. Connor had already kissed freaking Hope for the first time. I smiled contently.

I heard Gabriel scoff softly. “Stop reading porn and look at this view. What if you die tomorrow and never see this again?”

Die…

Sasha…

I mentally slapped myself for remembering, and then lifted my gaze from the text and faced the window, meeting up with great walls of grass and the bluest sky standing up. “You’re so dramatic, man. Deep Blue is an original romance classic; it is not porn, and I already spent an hour and a half staring at mountains. Nothing has changed so far, Gab.”

“Well, you have five hours and twenty minutes to go, love,” Jake said from the passenger’s seat.

I ignored him and turned back to the pages. My eyes played around the words, dancing and savoring the scene, but mostly the way the author put everything out, making me wish I could write like that.

It seemed simple enough to pick up a pencil and write about how stubbornly in love characters like Connor and Hope were, but it wasn’t. My cheeks turned red at the images I faced in my mind. The images the author was giving me.

“Lilly—”

“I know. I know. It’s just a little strong for me. No big deal.”

“Stop reading then and face the—”

“The view of nowhere, I know.”

Hope had settled in her cabin, while Connor, following behind, took her in his arms, and pressed his softness with her own, slowly tak—

I closed the book. “Done now,” I whispered, and then I said aloud to The Thing, which was driving the van, “when are we going to eat something? I’m starting to growl.”

“You mean your stomach,” he replied.

“No, I know what I meant.”