Everything Is Alright
Wish You Were Here
“I think I’m moving out,” Nicole informed me.
“Where did I get this bruise?” I asked randomly, examining my right shin. “Wait, what?”
“Tony asked me to move in with him,” she explained.
“Oh,” I said. I thought some more. “Damn. I can’t afford the rent by myself.”
“Well, I don’t have to leave,” she pointed out.
“Nah, go ahead. I’ll find someone. No big deal.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To go hang out with Justin,” I said, putting on a hoodie. I drove over to his place. I rang the doorbell. He answered it.
“Hey,” he said, letting me in.
“What are you doing?” I asked, following him into the kitchen.
“Cleaning the oven,” he said, walking over to the stove and getting on his knees.
“Why?” I asked, hopping onto the counter top to sit.
“No idea,” he muttered, half to himself. He continued scrubbing. I jumped off the counter and wandered into the living room. There was a box of papers in the corner. I started going through them. They looked like old papers and notebooks from college. There was a picture of me and Justin on The Roof. Another of him and Josh playing at a really early show. One of me singing while he played guitar, both of us sitting on the grass. I really didn’t remember who could have taken that one. I found a postcard I had sent him from California years back. It was one of those lame ‘Wish-you-were-here’ ones.
I never understood those. If you really wished they were there, then you should have brought them with, I decided. Justin walked in.
“What are you looking at?” he asked from the doorway.
“Nothing,” I answered, still holding the postcard. He glanced at it curiously. I followed him to the kitchen. He went back to the oven.
“What do you miss most?” he suddenly asked. About California, I assumed. I thought for a while.
“I miss the ocean,” I said, taping my postcard to his freezer door. “I would drive to the beach and go see the ocean sometimes.”
“Really? Why? I hate the ocean.”
“You do?” I questioned, getting back on the counter.
“Uh-huh,” he answered. “And theme parks. And airplanes.”
“Oh?” I asked, amused. “What else?”
“Talking with strangers.” He thought for a minute. “Waiting in line.” I nodded.
“Did you know Tony asked Nicole to move in?” I asked a few minutes later. He nodded.
“He told me.”
“I need a roommate now,” I informed him. “I don’t think I can afford the rent by myself.”
“You should move in here,” he suggested thoughtfully. “I have that empty room.”
“That’s-” I started. I thought about it. “Not a bad, idea, actually. You mean it?”
“Yeah. You're one of my best friends. And I won’t have to worry when we go on tour.” He had a point.
“I’ll definitely consider, then.”
“That’s all I get, Betty? Not even a yes or a no?” he said, finally closing the oven. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He smiled at me. I smiled back.
“Most definitely maybe yes,” I said, still smiling. “Possibly.”
“Where did I get this bruise?” I asked randomly, examining my right shin. “Wait, what?”
“Tony asked me to move in with him,” she explained.
“Oh,” I said. I thought some more. “Damn. I can’t afford the rent by myself.”
“Well, I don’t have to leave,” she pointed out.
“Nah, go ahead. I’ll find someone. No big deal.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To go hang out with Justin,” I said, putting on a hoodie. I drove over to his place. I rang the doorbell. He answered it.
“Hey,” he said, letting me in.
“What are you doing?” I asked, following him into the kitchen.
“Cleaning the oven,” he said, walking over to the stove and getting on his knees.
“Why?” I asked, hopping onto the counter top to sit.
“No idea,” he muttered, half to himself. He continued scrubbing. I jumped off the counter and wandered into the living room. There was a box of papers in the corner. I started going through them. They looked like old papers and notebooks from college. There was a picture of me and Justin on The Roof. Another of him and Josh playing at a really early show. One of me singing while he played guitar, both of us sitting on the grass. I really didn’t remember who could have taken that one. I found a postcard I had sent him from California years back. It was one of those lame ‘Wish-you-were-here’ ones.
I never understood those. If you really wished they were there, then you should have brought them with, I decided. Justin walked in.
“What are you looking at?” he asked from the doorway.
“Nothing,” I answered, still holding the postcard. He glanced at it curiously. I followed him to the kitchen. He went back to the oven.
“What do you miss most?” he suddenly asked. About California, I assumed. I thought for a while.
“I miss the ocean,” I said, taping my postcard to his freezer door. “I would drive to the beach and go see the ocean sometimes.”
“Really? Why? I hate the ocean.”
“You do?” I questioned, getting back on the counter.
“Uh-huh,” he answered. “And theme parks. And airplanes.”
“Oh?” I asked, amused. “What else?”
“Talking with strangers.” He thought for a minute. “Waiting in line.” I nodded.
“Did you know Tony asked Nicole to move in?” I asked a few minutes later. He nodded.
“He told me.”
“I need a roommate now,” I informed him. “I don’t think I can afford the rent by myself.”
“You should move in here,” he suggested thoughtfully. “I have that empty room.”
“That’s-” I started. I thought about it. “Not a bad, idea, actually. You mean it?”
“Yeah. You're one of my best friends. And I won’t have to worry when we go on tour.” He had a point.
“I’ll definitely consider, then.”
“That’s all I get, Betty? Not even a yes or a no?” he said, finally closing the oven. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He smiled at me. I smiled back.
“Most definitely maybe yes,” I said, still smiling. “Possibly.”