Be My Forever

Chapter 6

Now

My phone rang, distracting me from my paper. Eleanor . Why was she calling me now? We called every Thursday.

“Hello?”

“Evelyn! I’ve been knocking on your door for the past minute. Why aren’t you opening it?”

“Hold on. I’m coming.”

I hadn’t heard anything. Had I been so focused on my paper I hadn’t realized there had been knocks? As I opened the front door, I saw my sister glaring at Danté’s door. I let out a snort.

“That’s the wrong door, El.”

Eleanor winced. Though we sometimes met for lunch or a coffee, my sister and parents never came here. It probably had something to do with me never inviting them over.

“No wonder you didn’t answer.”

My sister jumped in my arms and we both squealed.

“Oh my God, I missed you,” she said, hugging me tighter with her small arms.

I smelled her familiar Marc Jacobs perfume. When we were younger, when I was still a kid and she was a teenager, I loved to slip into her room and use her perfumes. They always smelled so nice to me, especially since I was forbidden to enter her room. I smiled at the memory and hugged her back just as hard. Danté’s door flew open. His eyebrows were knitted together and his hair was dripping wet.

“What is going on…”

He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on us. Eleanor shot me a side glance, and I cleared my throat.

“Sorry. My sister banged on the wrong door.”

“I thought there was an emergency. The knocks were loud, and there was some yelling.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. From the corner of my eyes, I could see my sister blush from embarrassment.

“Eleanor, this is Danté, our neighbour.”

“Nice to meet you,” my sister said, taking his hand in hers.

All signs of embarrassment were now gone. Danté smiled warmly at her. His eyes darted between both of us, probably trying to see how much we looked alike. Spoiler alert: we didn’t look alike at all. Not the hair, not the eye colour, nor the body type. I had taken after Mom, and Eleanor after Dad. The only thing we had in common was our height, if that even counted. Eleanor’s hair was almost black, shiny, and oh-so straight; my lighter curls defied the laws of gravity. Not that her hair would’ve suited me, or my lion’s mane her. Once Danté was back inside, Eleanor flashed me a cat-like smile.

“What a cute boy.”

“The boy is twenty-four.”

She hummed. There was a sudden interest in her behaviour. Danté was older than the both of us.

“Is he single?”

My stomach churned at the question. Eleanor was beautiful. Most guys turned to look at her when she walked past. Which made me wonder why Danté hadn’t. Instead of showing how her question made me feel, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her inside my own apartment.

“Don’t waste your breath. He isn’t the kind that does serious relationships.”

Never had I seen Danté commit to a serious relationship. He had seen a girl a while back, but it hadn’t lasted more than two or three months. All the others that I had seen walk over the floor were one-night stands. Eleanor sighed as if it were a real loss. It was to me.

“He’s delicious to look at.”

I couldn’t lie about that, even if I wanted to.

“That he is.”

Jasmine ran out of the kitchen and hugged my sister like she was her own. I guess she sort of was. Jasmine and I had been friends for so long that of course she and Eleanor were family. Eleanor jumped with my best friend, just like she had done with me a few minutes before. Once my sister and I were in my room, I closed the door. Even though I was happy to see her, she wasn’t around often for her visit to be casual.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my baby sister?”

I hated it when she called me baby. It was supposed to be an endearing word, yet it never felt so to me. I had never told her that, not wanting to vex her. But I hated being referred to as the baby of the family when I always felt like I was the outsider of said family. How could I be the baby when I had grown up without them? She flashed me a sheepish smile, so I knew that there was something she wanted to ask me. I waited a few seconds, but Eleanor didn’t elaborate. Did she really think I hadn’t realized she wanted to ask me something? My sister plopped down on the bed, looking at my lessons.

“Mom and Dad want to know if you’ll be there for Christmas,” she said casually, flipping through the pages strewn over my bed.

So that was what she wanted to know. I looked at her warily. I was so going to kill her if she crinkled one of my papers. No matter how much I loved her.

“Christmas is more than two months away. Why do they ask that now? And why don’t they ask me personally?”

It wasn’t like I ghosted them often when they called me. They could’ve asked me. Not that I had anything planned for Christmas. It wasn’t as if I cared about that holiday that much. Not like Eleanor did.

El shrugged. “I was at home last weekend, so they asked me.” My sister finally looked up. “They also asked when you’re coming home.”

This apartment was my home. Jasmine was my home. I rolled my eyes.

“I went not so long ago.”

She clicked her tongue. “Evy, you went home more than two months ago.”

I blinked. Had it been that long? A hint of guilt crept up in my chest. Maybe it was indeed time to visit my parents. Then I could stay home again for two months without having to worry about that.

I sighed. “When are you going?”

“Next weekend.”

Eleanor went back every weekend and during all the holidays. That was proof of how different she and I were.

“Alright, I’ll come with you.”

“You know, Evelyn, they are the only parents we have. You should cherish them more.”

“So you came here to scold me,” I observed, crossing my arms.

It had been na?ve to think Eleanor had come here on a whim just to see me. So why was I disappointed when I knew? Eleanor’s expression shifted into something softer. She put a hand on my cheek. Once again, she looked at me as if I was the baby that needed to be protected. A shiver ran down my spine.

“I didn’t come here to scold you. But I want you to remember everything they did for us.”

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Everything they did for us? No, everything they did for her .

“Don’t forget they are paying your tuition. Show them you are grateful.”

Which was literally your duty as a parent. I kept from saying that. Otherwise, she would smack me. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my parents. I knew they had gone through hell with Eleanor, so I never held them accountable for their absence. I knew that if I had been the one who had almost died, the situation would have been reversed. But I was the healthy one, who stayed at home while my parents had spent many nights at the hospital. They had given up everything to help my sister get over her eating disorder and the many downfalls she faced while getting better. It had taken a few years, but Eleanor had gotten better. When things had started going better, my parents suddenly remembered they had a second child, a younger child. And by the time they tried to bond again with her, she had moved on. She didn’t need them anymore to help with homework or to cook a meal or get to school. The girl had grown up at a too young age without them seeing it. Others had taken her in when her own parents hadn’t come home. Mom and Dad hadn’t been there when I had dance recitals or baking contests. Grandma and Jasmine’s mom were though. Now I just didn’t feel the need anymore to have them around as regularly as my sister did. And that was fine. My parents had saved her life. That was wonderful. But I had survived on my own, and I hadn’t faked the fact that we had become strangers in those years we barely saw each other.

I could still remember my mom coming home from visiting Eleanor in the clinic, asking me if she needed to show me how the washing machine worked. Except that I had learned to do so on my own three years prior. Had she even realized that I had been doing my own laundry at sixteen for more than three years? It didn’t matter anymore. I hadn’t felt lonely in those years, because other people had filled my parents’ shoes. That was the tricky part: they now wanted to fill that space again, and I couldn’t pretend like I wanted to give them that space back as if nothing happened.

“Whatever.” I shrugged. “I have a paper due tomorrow. I’ll see you this weekend. Do I need to bring anything?”

My sister wanted to protest at the not-so-subtle dismissal. Except that this was a fight she would not win. We had both inherited our mom’s stubborn nature. She smiled ruefully.

“Try to bring some manners.”

“Keep on dreaming.”

***

My alarm beeped at 9 PM, like it did every Monday. Take out the trash . I got up from my desk, sighing and stretching. My neck cracked in a satisfying way. Jasmine laughed quietly when she saw me walking to the door with the trash bag.

“You look smashing.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

I went outside to the back of our building. Steps were echoing on the ground behind me, and just by the rhythm of those steps, I already knew who it was, and bit down the smile that my face tried to make.

“‘Sup, Squirrel.”

“Hello, Alighieri.”

Danté grabbed my bag and threw it in the huge bin, so I gave him a little curtsy. We often met here on Mondays. It had sort of become our own private joke to meet here so that he could rate my funny pyjamas. The first time it had happened, a bit more than two years ago, I had felt mortified. Can you imagine walking around in Lion King pyjamas and glittery pink fairy slippers in front of the guy you wanted to ask out? Yeah, well, it had happened to me. But unlike what I had feared, that Danté would mock me or judge me, he had laughed and said that my outfit had brightened his then not-so-nicely going day. So instead of playing it cool, I continued to show off my collection of terrible outfits, if it could bring a smile to his face. Today I wore a new one: fluffy green pyjamas with Homer Simpson disappearing inside a hedge. Danté observed me, and I did a little whirl to show every part of it.

“This one is new. You like it?”

He let out a long blow, pouting. “To be fair, I’m jealous to not possess the same outfit.”

“Can you imagine if we had the same? It could be our costume for when we take over the world.”

Danté pretended to think. He was always quick to follow with my quirky jokes. “I don’t know about taking over the world, but I’d gladly take over Hot Stuff and have all the free cakes in the world.”

“You need to think bigger, Alighieri. Why stop at more cakes if you could also have more alcohol and money?”

He crossed his arms, and although Danté had a rather slim build compared to other men, the gesture made his biceps bulge. Or was it his triceps? I wasn’t good with human anatomy, unlike him. The only thing I cared about was being allowed to touch said body parts.

“It seems like you thought it through.”

I had to force myself to stop gawking at him and looked back up. There was a knowing smirk on his lips, but he didn’t make any comment. Good. It would’ve been too awkward if I had to admit that his anatomy made me want to tear his clothes off. And lick every part of it.

“Oh, you know, never let them know your next move. Or something like that.”

“And yet you shared your evil plan with me.”

“Well, I’d hope you couldn’t resist me, or my cute smile, and would participate.”

“Alright. Let’s say that I help you in overthrowing the world to make the Evelynian Empire. You’d at least give me half of the power and the goods, right?”

The Evelynian Empire? Now that sounded like an apocalypse. My mind visualized the world after Doris had taken over in Meet the Robinsons , everyone being controlled by bowlers. Except with me, it would be rabid squirrels instead of hats. Danté leaned against the metal fence, laughing quietly.

“Of course, but I’d throw you under the bus if our plan failed, just to save myself.”

My beautiful neighbour gasped, and I found myself giggling. This was why I came here every week. Because when it was just the two of us, I could be myself, quirks and all, and it felt right to be like that with him.

“How dare you!” he shot back, falsely outraged.

“Sorry babe, but a sweet girl like me wouldn’t survive in prison.”

“So I really am your scapegoat, huh?”

“Only in worst-case scenario.” I winked at him.

He flicked me on the forehead. “I see how it is, and here I thought you’d at least try to break me out of jail so that we could be runaway criminals.”

“Watch us become the new Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Squirrel and Alighieri. It has a nice ring to it.”

“No one will take us seriously with those nicknames.”

“That can work to our advantage.”

I snorted as another image popped up in my brain: me with a squirrel mask, and Danté with a Venetian carnival one. We’re driving in an old-school convertible filled with stolen money and jewellery, disappearing into the sunset, never to be found again. How romantic and thrilling that could be.

“I like the way you’re thinking.”

A cold wind blew, making the skin on Danté’s arms pimple with goosebumps. Even though I enjoyed being here with him, where it was just the two of us, I didn’t like seeing him cold. I wasn’t his girlfriend; I couldn’t be the one to warm him up. As if he could sense that the time for jokes was over, he motioned to the door of our building. We both took the stairs to our level. Back in front of our doors, Danté turned back to me.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Try not to think about me, or how I get you out of jail in a skin-tight leather outfit, too much.”

I didn’t know if I dreamed it or not, but I could’ve sworn that his pupils dilated. Danté shook his head, his blonde locks flying around his head, creating a halo.

“I wasn’t, but now I might.”

A soft warmth crept up my cheeks as I kept my gaze low. “Good night then.”

“Good night, Evy.”