She is the one pulling me out of the gutter. I am the one who keeps slipping back down.
“She didn’t have to do this,” Star says, smiling as she fumbles with her keys to find one sharp enough to cut through the tape.
“Somehow, I don’t think Autumn does anything because she has to,” I say, poking her in the side as she cuts open the box. “She just does things for you because she wants to.”
Just like you, I want to say. Because Star sure as hell never had to help me. But she keeps doing it. Over and over again.
Even though I don’t deserve it.
She pulls open the box and starts pulling stuff out. Garbage bags, just like last time. Rolls of twine. More permanent markers, in even more colors. I can’t help but smile at that last one. Autumn must have noticed the “tattoos” Star has been giving herself, the ones I’ve been helping with. So far I’ve added not only the lizard, but a rainbow with music notes and a pretty impressive green dragon, if I do say so myself. It’s a hell of a lot better than the one I have, but then, I’m in a better place now than I was when I got that. Mine is all anger and darkness. The one I drew on Star . . . that one is full of life.
Just like her.
She’s grinning down at the box, and it’s like Christmas all over again with her. Something warm rises up in my chest and I reach over and snag the package of markers off the still-messy table. We haven’t gotten around to clearing it off yet.
I wave them at her. “I think we can figure out something to do with these, don’t you?” I ask, and she nods. But then her smile falters and her eyes widen as she stares into the depths of the box.
“What?” I ask. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing!” she says, and grabs the box flaps and slaps them closed before I can take a step forward. She seems to realize what she just did an instant later, and her face flushes bright pink. “Sorry,” she mutters, but she doesn’t let go of the box, doesn’t let me see. Instead she reaches out and hefts the box up into her arms and turns around.
“I’m just going to…yeah.” Face still burning, she makes her way over to the former pantry—her new bedroom—carrying the box with her. Before I can ask, she’s already on the other side of the door, and it’s swinging shut behind her.
And I’m left standing there, wondering what the hell just happened.
Star
By the time I finally get to the diner with my computer that evening—Ash stayed back at the house, not wanting to return to the scene of the crime just yet, not that I blamed him—Autumn must have already gotten back to Climbfield or at least stopped somewhere with Wi-Fi. Because when I open my email, there is already a message there waiting for me from Autumn entitled MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!
That’s it. Just a subject line. No text or attachments or anything.
That little brat, I think, and open up another message. I quickly type out a subject line and hit Send, feeling victorious for a split second before I realize I have to click through a bunch of confirmations and actually convince the program that yes, I would like to send an email without an actual message. Yes. I’m sure.
Jeez. Doesn’t it realize I’m trying to be dramatic?
It finally goes through and to my surprise I get a reply back almost instantly, this time with text.
Re: you are EVIL!!!!
You there? Open chat if you are.
XOXO
A
Smiling, I take a sip of the soda Maisie slides in front of me. I thank her and she grins at me and then turns and does her little pregnant-waddle back to the counter. It’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Ash on zero coffee, so . . .
I open the email’s chat program and click on Autumn’s name. But before I can type anything in the little message bar, a line of text pops up.
AUTUMN: muahhahahahaha!!!!!
STAR: I maintain. You are EVILLLL
STAR: Why the hell did you give me condoms?!?!!!
STAR: Ash was standing right there when I opened the box. He almost saw them!!!
AUTUMN: Good.
STAR: ?????
AUTUMN: Then maybe he would have gotten the hint.
STAR: No idea what you’re talking about. Crazy person.
Lies. All lies. Of course I know what she is talking about. But just thinking about it makes me want to hide my blush behind my soda cup. It burns to know that I was being so freaking obvious about it.
Of course, maybe I am reading into this completely wrong. Maybe Autumn sent me condoms for some other reason . . . that I just can not think of at the moment.
Another message pops up on my screen.
AUTUMN: I’m talking about the fact that you want to climb that man like a tree.
Okay. So not another reason.
It was a long shot, anyway.
STAR: Look, thanks and all, but just drop it, ok?
AUTUMN: But whyyyyy?
I grin despite myself. I can practically hear her dramatic whine from here, two states away. And it is ridiculous. When I first met her, she’d been the quietest person ever. It had taken me weeks to get her to talk to me like a normal person. But somewhere in the bonding process, we’d kind of lost filters with each other.
Which was good. Autumn had needed to be cracked out of her shell. College had been good for her. Just like she’d been good for me. Whether I liked to admit it or not, Brick’s disappearance had left a gaping hole in my life. I’d lost my closest friend and my first boyfriend in one fell swoop, and even though he’d always told me how strong I was because of the walls I’d built up around myself, his leaving nearly shattered me. By the time I’d gotten to Climbfield, all I’d needed was a friend.
What I got in Autumn was a sister.
AUTUMN: I need to get my kicks somehow.
AUTUMN: I’m going to end up a virgin for the rest of my life, and it’s not like Roth is the sharing type.
AUTUMN: I have to live through you.
AUTUMN: LET ME LIVE THROUGH YOU.
STAR: Sorry. No can do.
STAR: It’s a dead end. I’m not going to start something with Ash.
AUTUMN: Why not?
STAR: 1. I don’t know if he likes me back.
STAR: 2. We live a million miles away from each other. It wouldn’t work.
All very good reasons, I tell myself as I take another sip of my soda. I should know. I’ve been repeating them to myself over and over for the past few weeks.
AUTUMN: And 3?
STAR: 3?
AUTUMN: You know, reason #3 as to why you’re not making goo-goo eyes at Ash.
AUTUMN: Which, btw, you totally ARE.
I sigh.
STAR: No 3. What? 1&2 not good enough for you?
There is a pause that goes on long enough that I am starting to wonder if the Wi-Fi has crapped out on me again, but then another message pops up.
AUTUMN: Sorry, Roth was talking to me.
AUTUMN: But seriously.
AUTUMN: 1. He definitely likes you back. Don’t be redonkulous.
AUTUMN: 2. There are these things called phones. And cars. And planes. And the interwebs.