𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲

I can feel the breeze,
but we're safe here
under the sheets
-girl in red

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The windows are down. Frankie's head is sticking out, hair blowing in the wind. She says something; I turn down the radio, ask her to repeat herself. "It isn't how I imagined," she says, leaning back against the head-rest. "It's so quaint."

"I told you, River Bend isn't a big place." I turn onto a smaller street, avoiding potholes as we near the town's center. The old brick library, JD's general store, and the church-yard; places that hold a million memories, Tenny laced into every one of them. My chest aches.

"Well yeah," she says. "But if I had know how small, I would've never bought that you didn't know Tens—you must know everyone whose ever lived here. There's like a hundred people here, total."

Even the mention of his name, in this town, it's enough to punch the air out of my lungs. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, focus on the paved street, nothing else. "There's fifteen hundred," I say, through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"The population of River Bend is fifteen hundred; it's not that tiny."

"Dude, that's pretty fucking tiny," she grumbles, and I pull into the drive of Aunt Kali's house. The blue paint is starting to peel; I wonder if it's been painted since I first moved in, years ago. The rose bushes are in full bloom. There's a couple of bicycles scattered in the front lawn. I switch off the ignition.

"I haven't told my aunt about Tenny," I say, turning to Frankie. She nods, an unspoken agreement not to mention him. I feel my shoulders relax, knowing I won't hear his name for at least one night. I won't have to face him—or any of this—for at least one more night.

My Aunt Kali doesn't dislike Tenny; she hardly knows him, even though he did live under her roof for almost the entirety of my senior year. But she was there when he ended up in that hospital. She was the one dragging me away from his room. Listening as I cried over him not answering my calls. She saw how badly that hurt me.

I know hearing his name will only make her worry.

And I really do not want her to worry.

The front door swings open. I see a flash of blonde hair and little plastic framed glasses. I open my car door to meet cousin Nolie. He has on a serious face, as he so often does, but he still lets me wrap him into a hug. "I missed you!" I exclaim, as I nuzzle into his cheek.

"Who is your friend?" he asks, wiping my kiss from his face.

"This, is Frankie." She climbs out of the passenger seat, and Nolie tries to shake her hand. She's laughing; he is not.

"It is nice to meet you," he recites, and he's climbing back up the porch steps into the blue suburban house. Aunt Kali meets us in the doorway. Her belly has grown, and it looks as if she could go into labor any second, though I know she isn't due for another month.

She shakes her head. "Sorry about him," she says. "Mister serious, lately."

I wrap an arm around her, and she hugs me back. She smells like vanilla and lavender shampoo. I think of hugging her inside that hospital room and welcoming her familiar scent. Guilt gnaws at my side. I pull away. "It's nice to be home," I tell her.

"It's good to have you," she says, and then she smiles at Frankie. "And you too! I've been asking Violet to bring you home for ages." I remember the first time they met, when Aunt Kali helped me move into my new dorm. Aunt Kali was so nervous, after everything that had happened at my first University, but Frankie was so warm it melted the tension.