Meg:
Delicious! See you soon xo
I clutched my phone to my chest, an overwhelming sense of happiness crashing over me. Maybe I could have closer friends. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe I imagined walls where they didn’t exist.
I listened to Miriam’s breathing beside me and Abby’s soft snuffles from the air mattress, drawing strength from these comforting noises, from the gentle patter of rain. In one fluidmovement I brought my phone back up and found Tyler’s messages. We hadn’t exactly fought last night, but we had been odd and tense, and I hadn’t been precisely sober. I never fought with anyone, except for Noah, and then only along the lines of what show to watch or what food to order. With him in college, we didn’t even have those anymore.
Should I apologize to Tyler? Was there anything to apologize for? For telling him he made me comfortable?
After an embarrassing amount of consideration, I came up with the deeply brilliantMerry Christmas.
I immediately received a reply:Thanks. Merry six candles to you.
I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths while two slow tears of relief leaked from the corners of my eyes, my mouth pulling up in a giant smile. Then I pushed myself upright and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
When I went down to breakfast, I was still smiling.
The great room smelled like coffee and eggs and bread. I spotted Isaac sitting next to Great-Uncle Arnold. But then I saw Noah, alone for once, sitting on the sofa eating scrambled eggs. I hesitated, glancing at Isaac, then filled my plate and dropped down on the couch next to Noah. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
It used to be so easy to talk to Noah, when we lived on the same block and saw each other all the time. We didn’t have to make conversation; conversation just happened, floating in the air between us, bred by boredom or frustration or inanity.
With him gone, it felt like everything had changed. Now there had to be some sort of reason for us to talk, other than griping or killing time. “How’s college?”
“It’s good.”
“Good?” I wheedled. “What about, like, exciting? Wild, debaucherous parties?”
He smiled slightly. “Some of those, too.”
“Do you like your classes? Are you taking another one at the arboretum next semester?” Noah might not kill it in the communication department, but he had occasionally sent me pictures of plants he’d taken care of at the giant nature park in Jamaica Plain.
“Yeah, I’m going to keep working with the same professor. And I’m taking another biodiversity class, with the prerequisite out of the way.”
“Good.” Noah had always been happiest outside, surrounded by plants, and I was glad he didn’t plan to give them up. I glanced at the hallway. “How are things with Abby?”
“They’re good.”
I pried, because otherwise what was the point of basically being siblings? “Good enough you brought her here for Hanukkah. Aren’t her parents sad?”
“She says they understood. Since we don’t get to see each other a ton.”
“Do you feel like you’re missing out on any typical college experiences? Like you worried about Erika?” When he’d broken up with his last girlfriend, he’d talked a big game about thinking she shouldn’t have a high school boyfriend dragging her back from college life.
“Oh.” He ruffled his curls, so like mine, and looked sheepish. “Uh, maybe with Erika it was more of an... excuse.”
“Harsh.”
“I didn’t like her as much as I like Abby. And I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. I’m still doing stuff and making friends.”
If he wasn’t bent out of shape about it, I wouldn’t be, either. I ate a forkful of eggs, considering how to phrase my next thought and if it was even worth bringing up. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it. But... maybe worth mentioning? “It’s kind of weird, you not being home.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I feel like there’s no one on my side anymore, at Shabbat, or whenever we go out. It’s just me and all the parentals. It’s a little lonely.” To my shame, I could hear my voice get scratchy, and I forced a smile.
Now Noah looked a little worried. “But—you have all your friends, right?”
