Supernova

Thursday and Friday passed pretty much the same. Once we had everything figured out, we focused on making it so that we can keep the high school from dying.

Each day after work he would walk me to the bus stop. We didn’t really talk much. I could tell he wanted to but I had a feeling it was about what happened. Friday after work, he cleared his throat when the bus pulled up.

“So… dinner tomorrow?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Where do you live?”

He hesitated. “Don’t be mad at me,” he said suddenly and I frowned. “I-I still live next to you.”

My jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you say something?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t think it’d matter.” He glanced at the bus. “You still want to take this home? I can drive ya.”

I bit my lip. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow at five.”

“Okay,” he said and waited for me to get on before walking to his car.

I was a little upset. Why hadn’t he told me that he still lived next to us? Did my parents know? If not, would he want me to say anything? I wasn’t sure. If he hadn’t told me, though, he probably wouldn’t want my mom and dad to know.

When I got home, I glanced at his house. The garage door was closing and I hesitated. Had he been waiting to make sure I got back safely? I sighed and opened the front door.

Dinner was waiting for me like normal and my mom hugged me. I hugged her back and sat down.

“You okay?” my dad asked when I didn’t talk.

“Yeah,” I mumbled and cleared my throat. “Tell me something, do you know where Ethan lives?”

My mom frowned. “No. Why? He didn’t tell you?”

I cleared my throat. “We’re meeting at five tomorrow so I won’t be here for dinner.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” my dad muttered. “Do you really want to open old wounds?”

I stared at him and his eyes widened. I stood up and went to my room, slamming my door behind me. I sat down at my desk and got my laptop open. I pulled up my Excel spreadsheet where I had been putting in my hours. My dad knocked on my door.

“Let me in, please, Nove,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

“I have to get some rest, Dad. My leg’s acting up.”

He sighed. “Very well. Good night.”

-

I spent most of the day pacing in my bedroom in just a towel. I didn’t know what to wear. This wasn’t a date, that’s for sure. We were just reconnecting. But I didn’t want him to think I was a slob. But I also don’t want to make him think I wanted to be his girlfriend. He understood the line, right?

I groaned and finally decided on a pair of yoga pants, one of my three-quarter sleeve purple shirts, and my usual tennis shoes. I went into the bathroom and looked at my face sadly.

“Don’t put makeup on,” my mom said, brushing my hair for me.

I shook my head. “If I don’t, it’ll look like I’m rubbing it in his face, Ma. I’m not going to do that.”

She frowned. “You really think this dinner is about reconnecting?”

I got my makeup out and pressed my lips together.

“I’m positive, Ma.”

She sighed. “Why are you so against being in a relationship with him, dear?”

I slammed down my foundation. “I have to get ready, Ma.”

“Okay,” she whispered and left.

The truth was, I had a crush on Ethan since middle school. I didn’t act on it, though, because I didn’t want our parents to think we were doing it for them. At least, that’s what I felt would happen. That or they would get smug. If I got in a relationship with Ethan, it was because we wanted to be together. Despite what my mother said, I doubted Ethan loved me. If he had, why hadn’t he contacted me after all those years?

I sighed when it was time to leave. I didn’t tell my parents where he lived. In fact, they avoided me when I left. My dad was still against the idea but, after last night’s slip up, he didn’t talk about it. My mom was probably keeping her distance so she didn’t say something stupid.

When I got to his door, I took a deep breath and knocked. It took a couple minutes, but he answered. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black button up with a white wife beater underneath it. I was glad I stuck with something simple.

“You look nice,” we said in unison and he chuckled.

“Yeah. Um. Come on in,” he said, stepping to the side. “Dinner’s almost ready. You still a fan of pulled pork?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I didn’t get to eat it much when I was at Oxford.”

“Looks like I made the right stuff then,” he said. “It’s my mom’s recipe so I hope you’ll like it just as much as her stuff.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I mumbled, sitting at the dining room table.

I was glad that he didn’t have anything that looked romantic on the table; not even wine. He passed me a cup with Sprite and a straw and I laughed.

“Remembered that, too, huh?”

He laughed and sat down across from me. “Of course. You’re the only person I know of to drink everything – even hot chocolate – through a straw.”

I chuckled. “Well, it looks and smells great.”

“Thanks,” he said and we ate in silence.

As the sandwich disappeared, though, I felt nervous. It was getting closer to when we would have to go back eight years and figure out what really happened with both of us.

“It was delicious.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. He looked pointedly at the couch and I stood up, biting my lip.
The living room looked exactly like the last time I saw it. The couch was old fashioned red and the carpet shaggy. A large screen TV was on the wall across from the couch and a coffee table was loaded with work papers and magazines.

“Sorry,” he said. “I tried organizing the work papers but….”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted. “It’s your house.” I sat down and cleared my throat while he sat beside me. “When did you move here?”

“I never moved out,” he said. “My parents moved and, instead of selling it, they gave it to me. I just pay rent and the bills.” He bit his lip. “Did you have your own place at Oxford?”

“No. I lived in the dorms. It was cheaper and I was about to have friends easier.”

“That’s good,” he nodded. “Friends are important to have; especially when you’re in a new place.”

“Yeah,” I said then sighed. “Okay, Ethan. Enough small talk.”

He sighed, too. “All right.”