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"You okay?" Peter asked.
I glanced up at him and plastered on my familiar fake smile. It was the one that I always wore when someone wanted me to show sincere emotion. Is that insane? It has to be a little insane? I groaned inwardly. Or maybe it was just because I'd gotten used to hiding what I was really feeling at every turn.
"I'm fine," I said finally as Peter continued to stare at me. "I'm just a little tired after the drive and everything."
"I told you, you should have gone up and taken a bath first thing, but you refuse to listen."
"No way. I want to get this done as soon as possible before I have to hit the road and get out of here again."
"Okay," Peter said with a small nod.
When I looked at him I saw something in his eyes that made me want to stop and touch him.
I know, you missed me.
It was clear to see that's what bothered him, and I felt even more like shit for not contacting him over the years. Every time he'd tried to call, text or send a message I'd avoided it. Not because of him. I just couldn't stand to face the life that I'd left behind.
"Did your friend say when he'd get to my car?" I asked to break up the tension.
"Dan said it would take a little bit. He had to tow another car for someone that slipped into a ditch but he'll get to yours next."
"Sounds like a deal," I said as I stood up and looked around.
The living room was slowly but surely coming together. I'd let Peter help me with the cleanup only because he'd insisted. Honestly, I thought I'd be alone in this big old house until I'd finished getting it together, but he refused to leave.
As I glanced around the room, all I could think about were all of the bad things that had happened to me there. Being hungry, being scared and alone, being cornered by my mom's boyfriends until she had to kick them out. My throat felt like it wanted to close up and all I could do was frown.
"Remember when we used to come here after school?" Peter asked as he wandered around. "We'd make those weird concoctions and dare each other to eat them until someone got sick?"
I relaxed a little and grinned at his words. "You mean when I made you eat mayonnaise and ice cream and sardines?"
Peter looked like he wanted to hurl at that exact moment. I grinned. One of my favorite pastimes, when we were children, was to get him to eat the nastiest combinations of food that I could possibly find. He wasn't much better than I was. He loved it too.
"Go ahead and joke," Peter laughed. "All I have to say is hot dogs covered in peanut butter with chips and syrup."
I held my stomach. "Fuck that and you."
Peter laughed as I walked away from him. That was a serious punishment. He'd laughed while I ate it and then held my hair as it came back up. That was just one of many games that we'd played when we were young. The amount of laughter and sickness were proportionate. Even if our moms yelled at us for it later.
We fell into comfortable conversation as if we had seen each other every day for the past ten years. No matter what sad thoughts tried to permeate my brain, Peter made sure I remembered something equally hilarious and there was no shortage of great stories.
"Remember when we brought all those firecrackers and shoved them into people's mailboxes?" I asked as I carried a box into the living room.
"Oh jeez," he groaned. "That was such a bad idea. My mom yelled at me so bad and then she lectured me for longer. I hated the lecture more."
I laughed as I walked over and ran a hand through his hair. It was still the same chocolate brown that matched his beard now. My fingers scratched across his scalp and he moaned as he leaned back into my touch.
"You always knew how to do that just right?"
I snorted. "As if anyone couldn't do this?"
Peter shook his head. "Trust me, people have tried. It's not the same."
I swallowed thickly. Does he mean it's not the same as me?
I'd done this to him since we were young. Peter would always curl up against me and usually he'd fall asleep too. Our mothers had been so concerned that our friendship would turn inappropriate, but it had never gone beyond comfort, support and an amazing friendship.
Except I'd started feeling things for him when I was still young. How could I not? He'd smiled at me and touched me like I was the most special thing on the planet. I still remembered the feeling of his hands as they embraced me and the way he stood up for me whenever I couldn't.
