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She scoffed. “Because I keep a clean record, no drugs or anything.”
“You, little miss, are a liar.” I handed her my phone and took the plate of s’mores from her as she typed in her number. “A liar because you are running some underground, illegal essay writing operation.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled sweetly, taking the plate back and handing me my phone. “I just happen to find USB drives and return them to people.” She walked over to a group sitting on a blanket. “It’s a selfless service, really. See ya around.”
I had to know more about this woman. Between that sarcastic voice, goofy smile, and question about my stupid pens, I was curious. Curiosity was a good thing. I liked solving puzzles, finding answers, and figuring out the whole picture. And she was quite the puzzle.
I couldn’t help but steal glances at her throughout the night. She stayed with her friends, tucked away on the blanket. Most of the time she stared at the fire, a listless and faraway look on her face. Her canvas coat was thick and worn. She wore jeans and lace-up, brown boots and her hair was wild. The wind picked it up and tousled it and more than once I had the privilege of witnessing her futile struggle to braid it.
And when the party died down, and the fire turned to mostly coal, the people dispersed. I barely made it to my room before I sent a text.
ME: This is Trask Davis. Met at the bonfire? Just wanted to let you know I don’t actually need your help with that English paper ;) Just needed an excuse to get your number.
When I woke up in my childhood bedroom at my parents’ house, I reached for my phone and was disappointed to find not a single response from Eliza. I had several texts from Aaron and Karina and a few others wondering if I’d be down for brunch. I ignored them all, I could blame a hangover later. Not that I had one, but it was a nice excuse.
I showered and finally rid myself of the lingering smell of bonfire smoke and made my way to the kitchen where my father sat, reading the paper and eating eggs.
“Have fun last night?” he asked.
I shrugged, scouring the fridge for something. I settled for an apple. “It was fine, always interesting to catch up with old friends and stuff.”
“What’s Aaron up to?”
“Still engineering, we actually have a class together. I thought he’d bail and find something else but he likes it.”
“What about Thomas, you know Wilson’s kid?”
I shrugged again, a very common response to my father. “I saw him briefly last night. I think he’s working in insurance with his uncle or something.”
My father smirked. “I am so proud of you.”
I bit into the green apple, the tart juice woke me up better than coffee ever did. “Thanks,” I mumbled.
“I wasn’t sure what to think when you wanted to go into architecture, but I must confess the people at the firm are not surprised. It takes a skilled mind to excel in that field. This is why I have a few leads on some internships for you.”
“Thanks,” I said. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, I wasn’t sure what avenue I wanted to go, but it was nice to have options.
“Your mother went out to grab breakfast with Karina’s mother.”
I stared blankly at my father, waiting for him to finish the sentence or continue. I wouldn’t add fuel to the flames. At the thought of fire, the goofy smile of Eliza crossed over my mind, how her green eyes reflected the orange flames.
My father cleared his throat and looked at me conspiratorially. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.” I let out a sigh. “Absolutely nothing. As much as she and Mom wish it were the other way around, there is nothing going on. We fight over something stupid, break up, get back together, and repeat. I’m done with the cycle. Mom is half the reason we got back together last time.” Today I needed coffee. I spoke while I turned on the machine. “Sometimes it seems like she loves Karina more than me.” It was a joke, but of course, Dad couldn’t take a joke.
“Don’t say that. She loves you.”
I laughed and pressed the button. “I know that. I do. But she always seemed more heartbroken over the breakups than I ever was.”
It was clear Dad saw what I did, but he steered the conversation away. “Why is that? Why did you always seem so passive and unflinching when the, as you put it, ‘inevitable breakup’ came?”
I took a giant gulp of the steaming coffee, willing it straight into my veins. If the rest of the day was going to look like this, I was going to need all the help I could get. “Because I think deep down I knew,I know, that there isn’t a lasting connection. We have some things in common, but nothing deep. It’s all superficial. Our parents are friends, that’s convenient. We share a lot of the same friends. But that’s about it.”
“So, what do you want in a spouse?”
“Spouse?” I balked. “I’m not even twenty-three, let me do one thing at a time, like graduate and get a decent job, good grief.”
My dad picked up his mug and gestured for me to fill it. He spoke when my back was turned. “We got married far younger than that. It was the best thing we ever did, deciding to build a life together from the start instead of working so hard to create a life for yourself and then finding someone to fit into it. Spouse is a strong word, and partner might be more intimidating, but it sounds like that’s what you’re looking for.”
