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Ella and I sit at Café Strada, each of us cupping our hands around tall mugs of café au lait on the outdoor patio. Students chatting in small groups surround us, and to our left, a man with a white mustache and a beret does the Sunday crossword puzzle.
“This is still my favorite coffee,” I tell Ella. I’m treating us to four-dollar cups of café au lait because we deserve it after days of combing apartment listings, cleaning up red wine spatter in her closet, and washing fermentation smell from all of her clothes. Twice.
“More expensive than making it at home, though. You taught me to be frugal.”
“I know. Sometimes it’s worth a little splurge.” I’ve always loved it at this café, with its tall trees and proximity to campus. Watching students walk to and from their classes gives me an optimistic feeling. Learning happening. Life abounding.
I take a large swallow of coffee, willing the caffeine to give me energy I don’t have.
“You didn’t sleep.” Ella isn’t asking. She’s right. I haven’t slept well in the five nights since I’ve been back from Buttercup. I haven’t talked to Jackson at all, and I feel guilty about that. Instead, I’ve just spent most of my waking hours thinking about him, last night included.
A hundred different times, I thought about messaging him or calling, but I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. With each day that went by, I felt pressure mounting to say the right thing, or the best thing, and then I told myself to focus on my sister. She’s my priority.
But every day, I miss Jax and Fiona so much it hurts. And I feel so guilty for leaving.
“Did I keep you up?” I ask Ella.
“Nah. I fall back asleep easily.”
I take a sip of coffee and wonder why it doesn’t taste as magical as I remember. “You okay?” Ella asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Liar.” Her directness and sharp stare get my attention. “Have you called Jackson?”
“Not yet. It’s complicated.”
“Is it?” Another pointed look. And an actual pointed finger. “You love him. And that little girl. How could you run out on them after you said you wouldn’t?”
She’s not wrong about any of it, but I stare at her like the answer is obvious. “You’re my family.”
“I’m part of it. Maybe they’re the rest of it.”
It’s the last thing in the world I’m expecting her to say, which is why I don’t have a ready answer. As I stammer and try to come up with a response, my window of opportunity slams shut.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Ella’s boyfriend Tim bounds across the street in his navy sweats, hair wet from water polo practice. Feet clad in white socks and slide sandals. He’s dressed identically to the two guys beside him, who he fist bumps before coming into the café.
They head up Bancroft Avenue to their fraternity house, and he grabs the seat next to Ella, dropping a kiss on her lips.
She ruffles his wet, dark hair and leans into him. I recognize the look of bliss on her face. It’s the same one I’ve been wearing for weeks now. She’s in love, and from the way Tim looks back at her, it’s completely mutual. I’m happy about that for my sister.
He snags the untouched coffee on the table, the only one without milk in it. “Thanks, ladies. Appreciate the cup.”
His arm drapes over Ella’s shoulders, and the morning light paints her features in pinks and oranges. I take out my phone and scroll through some apartment listings I’ve scrounged up over the past three days of looking.
Today is the first time Ella doesn’t have a packed day full of architecture studio classes, which take up hours and hours of her time. “So, there isn’t a lot on Southside, unless you’re willing to ride a bike to class every day,” I begin, already knowing it’s a non-starter for Ella, who can barely get up in time to walk the ten minutes from the dorms.
She looks at Tim, who nods. “Ruby, we want to talk to you.”
“We?” I look between the two of them.
“Yes.” Ella clears her throat and takes a sip of her coffee. Then another. She squares her shoulders and turns to me. “I don’t want you to find me an apartment.”
A bus roars down Bancroft, temporarily blocking out the chatter from the people surrounding us but doing nothing to blunt what I’ve just heard.
“Are you serious? Where are you planning to live?”
She looks at Tim again. “Tim’s friend has a spare room in her rental on the other side of campus. She didn’t think she’d be able to fill it until summer, so she and her roommates were all just paying extra.”
