basically a celebrity. I mean, it’s Matt—he’s always been popular, and girls have always wanted him, but now, it’s everyone. Girls slip their phone numbers and show up at his house…” her words drift off as she shakes her head. “You wouldn’t believe some of these girls, Olivia.”
I try to force a smile, but I’m sure it looks as fake as it feels. “It explains why he’s not capable of saying no.”
“Sure, but, I mean … he’s a guy. How much can we expect?”
‘Boys will be boys’ rings in my ears. Growing up, we heard parents and teachers, friends, even each other touting the common phrase—it’s only now that I realize how much we all believed in those words to some degree.
“Is she nice?”
“What?”
“The girl he’s dating. Is she nice?”
Sophia shakes her head. “They’re not dating. He knows she’s not you.”
Her words are like a slap to the face as confusion mingles with guilt and something ugly that feels far too much like a victory.
But I didn’t win.
He kissed another girl and posted it on social media, knowing I’d see it. More than once. Obviously, there was an intention behind his actions.
“I have to grab my bags,” I say, seeing the rainbow luggage band that separates my luggage from the dozens of others that look just like it. I leave my carry-on with Sophia and hastily scramble to grab my first suitcase.
“I’ve got it,” A guy my dad’s age assures me, helping me with my bag.
“Thanks,” I tell him as he rights it for me.
He nods. “Do you have any more?”
“One more, but you don’t have to. It’s smaller than this one.”
He grins. “I’ve got a wife and a daughter, and I’d hope that if they ever needed help, someone would be there for them. This is my way of tossing some good karma in.” Something about him reminds me of Arlo. Maybe it’s his quick smile or the fact he’s so willing to help or believing in cosmic notions—either way, it makes my thoughts all storm to Arlo.
“Thank you,” I tell him. As we wait, I pull out my phone and send a text to Arlo.
Me: I landed!
I wait several seconds for his response, but my bag comes first. I pocket my phone and point out my bag to the gentleman helping me. He hefts it down without a problem, bestowing another grin. “Did you have a good trip?” he asks.
“Actually, I don’t live here anymore. I’m just visiting friends for spring break.”
He tips his head back with a silent acknowledgment. “I bet you miss it.”
I nod. “I do.”
“Well, have a safe trip and enjoy being home.”
Home.
The word rings in my ears and travels all the way to my heart. I’m here—I’m finally back… “Thanks, again,” I tell him, grabbing my bags and pulling them out of the dispersing crowd toward Sophia.
She smiles as I get closer, grabbing the things I left beside her. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
The drive to the house Sophia grew up in is filled with her catching me up on people I have barely seen in the four years I’ve been gone, and several more who I don’t know, but as the conversation turns to friends we shared, my interest piques. I laugh when she tells me about her and our close friend Marie trying different hangover cures, gagging over some of the things they’ve tried.
We pull into her driveway, and my thoughts slide back in time, preserved memories that flash to life with the unchanged red-brick house. Even the potted ferns are the same as they’ve always been.
“Olivia!” Carrie, Sophia’s mom, calls, descending the front porch. I’ve been back to Texas twice a year since moving to Washington—summer and spring breaks, always staying with Sophia and her family. In some ways, it reminds me of years growing up when I’d travel to see my dad. The weather was always a stark difference to what I was used to, and it is again as the heat melts into me, making my skin feel sticky and damp.
She wraps me in a tight hug. “How are you? How’s Washington? You look pale.” She brushes her hands down both sides of my face with a maternal touch that makes my heart ache.
“Bill!” Carrie yells toward the house. “Bring Cade and come get Olivia’s bags and leave that cake alone!” She drapes her arm over my shoulders, and Sophia slips her hand in mine, and we go inside.
We sit inside, drinking Arnold Palmers, talking and laughing