Page 48 of The Way I Am Now
“What?” she says.
“It’s just—you’re gonna be nice to her, right?” I try to ask as gently as possible.
“I’m always nice, you dick.”
“Okay, but she’s got a lot going on and—”
“Most girls do,” she says, cutting me off. “Josh, listen. I can read between the lines. I get it. I’ll be nice to her.” And for the first time maybe ever, there’s no hint of sarcasm in her voice, no shadow of a grin on her face. “Just don’t try to control so much.”
“All right,” Dominic says, appearing in the hallway between us, clapping his hands. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“Okay,” I say—to both of them.
I walk down the next flight of stairs, forcing a slower pace, because Parker’s right, I can’t try to control what happens next. Outside, I see Eden’s brother’s car parked on the street in front of our building; it’s easy to spot, overflowing with a mattress strapped to the top of the car. But I don’t see Eden. I bend down to look through the passenger-side window. Her phone’s sitting there in the cupholder, the lamp from her bedroom sticking out of the top of a bag on the floor.
“Relax,” Parker sings from behind me. “Besides, I think that’s her over there, isn’t it?”
I follow the direction Parker is looking, across the street, at a girl standing at the crosswalk. She has her hair pulled back and is wearing sunglasses, the strap of her bag pulled across her body, and she’s carrying a tray of drinks from the café on the corner. At first I don’t recognize her. I don’t know why exactly. I guess I was expecting her to seem out of place here, expecting to have to help her get acclimated, protect her, even. But she already looks like she belongs, like she’s always been here. The traffic light changes, and she starts walking toward us, waving when she spots me.
“Hi!” she says as she approaches us. “I come bearing frozen cappuccinos.”
Parker steps forward and says, “Oh, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, I can tell already.”
“You must be Parker,” Eden says, raising her sunglasses with her free hand.
“And you must be Eden.” Parker moves in with open arms but stops. “Are you a hugger?”
“Um, sure,” Eden says, her eyes flashing to mine just for a moment. “Yeah.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Parker says, giving Eden a hug—something I’ve never seen Parker do with anyone before. “Welcome to the building, to Tuck Hill, you’re gonna like it here, I promise.”
“Thank you,” Eden says. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Hello again, dear,” Dominic adds, not even hinting at any of his many misgivings he hasn’t been shy about sharing with me, as he pulls Eden into a brief one-armed hug. “I’ll gladly take one of those off your hands.”
“Good to see you again,” she tells him as she hands him one of the drinks she’s carrying, giving one to Parker as well.
And then her eyes meet mine. She smiles so brightly, I literally cannot find any words to say except “Hey, you.”
We step toward each other on the sidewalk, and as I put my arms around her, Parker takes the drink tray from Eden. And now I feel both her hands pressed against my back, pulling me in. I allow myself to savor it for a moment, but because I would stay like this all day if we could, I let go first.
EDEN
I follow Parker up the stairs into my new life. She’s talking without any trouble the whole two flights, while I’m struggling to catch my breath. I guess it must be her swimming lungs. Or maybe I’ve been holding my breath so long, I don’t know what it’s like to breathe easily anymore.
“Laundry room is in the basement. Josh and D stay on the floor above us,” she’s saying as she leads me down a long narrow hallway. “Oh, and after this, remind one of us to show you our spot up on the roof.”
“Okay,” I manage to get out.
At the very end of the hall, she says, “Here we are, 2C. Home sweet home.”
Part of me also wonders if my racing heart is me not being used to stairs or my anxiety meds wearing off or if it might just have something to do with Josh and the rush of finally being able to hug him, touch him, in the daylight, in public, without fear of who might see us and what they might think or if I’m doing anything wrong or pretending it’s something it’s not.
She pushes the door open and holds her arm out, gesturing for me to walk in first. It’s a large, bright, open room. With windows on two walls. A well-worn formerly vibrant red couch sits in the middle. A small table with mismatched chairs in the corner. A tiny kitchen with old white appliances and a narrow bar that separates the space.
“I know it’s not much,” Parker says as I look around. “It’s small, and we share a bathroom, but it’s still way better than campus housing.”
“No, this is . . .” It’s neat and clean and nothing like home. As I take a step, the old hardwood floors creak under my feet. “I love it.”
