Chapter Eleven #2
He pushes his notebook to the middle of the table. Lucy snatches it up before I can so much as crane my neck over to read it. She reads it quickly before passing the notebook to me.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says as I read.
“Seriously,” I say, jumping in before I’m fully done, scared of losing my foothold in their conversation. “You’re amazing at this.” I pointedly tap the final line of the poem, tilting the notebook so he can see. He rolls his eyes, but the quirk is back in the corners of his lips.
“Yeah, okay, that part is literary genius,” he agrees. The relief is back in my chest, so easily dispelling the acid with just the knowledge that he’s feeling better—and that I’m the one who helped him.
I hate how easy it is to quell this feeling. All it takes is one shot of reassurance to calm the storm that rages in my chest. Because I know it’s always temporary. Relief forever is impossible.
Still, I’ll take it while I can get it. I swallow a deep breath of the sea-salted air, letting the smell of the waves rush into my newly loosened lungs, and spend the rest of the ferry ride laughing over pretzel chips with Liam and Lucy.
—
Nothing hits better than the tightly tucked-in sheets of a hotel-room bed after a day of endless travel.
We ferried to Athens and bused from there to Corinth, the entirety of the Greek countryside flashing by the dirty windows of our bus.
The day is a blur of seawater and dry hills and spiky green trees, the blue dome of the sky always clear above us.
My limbs are relishing the space to spread out and the softness of the bedspread. I answer the FaceTime from my family group chat without sitting up, the pillow smushing against the right side of my face.
“How’s Greece?” Mom coos as soon as her face fills my screen.
I roll over onto my back, lifting the phone above my face. “It’s gorgeous. I’m learning so much.”
“I can’t believe there’s more to learn,” Dad yells from the kitchen, where I can see him prepping pasta sauce in the background. I know the kitchen must smell amazing, and it makes me ache for home.
“There’s always more to learn,” I holler back at him. Mom gives me a proud smile, and it floods me with relief. It’s been so long since I’ve actually been able to talk to my parents, and I need the reminder that they care about me, in addition to Lizzie’s wedding, more than I realized.
“Your itinerary says you’re in Crete,” Mom says, squinting at her computer.
“Corinth,” I correct.
Mom sighs as she scrolls a little further. “Is it the last week of July already? We’re so behind on wedding preparations.”
I don’t answer, because, well, what is there to say?
“Have you been in touch with Paige?” Mom asks.
I shake my head. “I’m having such a good time, I haven’t needed to.”
Mom purses her lips. “That’s not how therapy is supposed to work, Natalie. Paige says that it’s important to—”
“Mom,” I snap. “I’m in Greece. Can’t I just enjoy it?”
“Tell me about it so far, then,” Mom says, though I can see in her eyes her plans to keep pushing the issue.
I give her the rundown of everything that’s happened over the past few days.
Well, everything academic, that is. I leave out the awkwardness between Liam and me, the weird tension simmering throughout the cohort, and certainly any hint of kissing.
The last thing I need is for my “high school sweetheart” parents to get wind of the mere suggestion of romance.
They glom on to the possibility of love faster than anything.
As if it’s the most important thing I could have.
“And tomorrow we’re visiting the archaeological museum and the Temple of Apollo,” I say.
“That sounds lovely,” Mom says. “We’re very busy here too. Remember, the rehearsal is scheduled for the week after you get back, so you’ll need to be ready.”
“Of course,” I say, propping myself up on the mattress. “I’ve thought of nothing else.”
“Don’t get an attitude,” Mom says. “It’s a big day.”
“I don’t have an attitude,” I argue, even though I objectively do. I can feel a waspishness seeping into my tone that I can’t seem to control. But what am I supposed to do here? Dedicate my every waking thought to preparing for Lizzie’s wedding while I’m literally thousands of miles away?
Mom gives me a stern look through the camera, and I force myself to take a deep breath. “I’ll be ready for the wedding, Mom. Promise.”
“Thank you,” she says, softening. “Now, I really think you should talk to Paige about—”
“I have to go,” I say. “It’s getting late here.”
“Okay,” Mom says, “but please think about it.”
“I will,” I mutter, having no intention of doing so.
My mom hangs up the phone as Liam comes back into the room. The hotel has an indoor pool, and he brings its chlorine scent back with him.
“How are the parents?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Matrimonially obsessed.”
“My parents are so excited,” Liam tells me as he shakes the water out of his curls, spraying droplets on the floor around him. “They got me and my dad matching pocket squares for the occasion.”
I giggle. “Can’t wait to see that.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks.
“Talk about what?”
He gives me a look, and I glance at the now-darkened phone screen my mom just vacated.
“No, it’s okay,” I say. The truth is, I don’t want to bother him with any more of my nonsense. It’s not going to help our friendship if I’m always whining about my problems. “Thanks, though.”
He nods and disappears into the bathroom. I flop down onto the bed, wondering how I let myself get to this point. Other people seem to manage just fine. Friends, a girlfriend, normal relationships with their family. All I seem to attract is unspoken tension no one knows how to name.
It occurs to me that I could ask Paige. She did say I could reach out to her at any point during my trip. But it’s probably outside her working hours by now. Besides, she’d just tell me that I have to breathe through the moment or something, probably.
Seems safest to just go to bed.