5. Anthony
five
anthony
Time flies when you’re having fun. Or, in my case, when you’ve buried yourself into a project so deeply that you barely come up for air. With my dad’s crew helping out as often as they can, the framework and roofing came together in less than a month. I’ve been working after hours on my own, and things are looking ahead of schedule. By the time August rolls around, I’ve barely had enough time to think about much more than building my house, and moving into my temporary place.
With the last of her rentals finally moved out, I have the all-clear to move into my mom’s old townhouse. I don’t have much to bring over—clothes, necessities, and a few knickknacks. Avery kept the furniture—and the apartment, for that matter. Luckily, the place comes fully furnished. I won’t have to buy cheap pieces, and can focus on saving a couple bucks to furnish the new place to my liking once it’s ready.
I plan to spend this first weekend of August settling into my temporary home, and then I’ll finally clock into school mode. It’s the one boundary I’ve put into place: Summers are for me. During the year, I work well before and after contract hours, coming in early to tutor and lesson plan, staying late to grade and coach baseball. I more than earn my summers off. I even disconnect my school email from my phone until I have to use it again.
I pull into the two-car driveway of the townhome that has been in my family for as long as I have. It’s the place Mom raised me after I was born. I might not remember it, but most of my baby photos were taken here. I’m glad it’s still around. I step out of my truck, lofting my backpack with all of my move-in essentials—chargers, toothbrush, laptop, socks—over my shoulder. I loop my keyring around my index finger, catching it as I approach the attached door in the garage, and slide the key into the lock.
I frown. It doesn’t catch. The door was unlocked already.
I shrug, pushing through the door. Mom must have left it unlocked after checking out the renters. Not a big deal.
Do you know what is a big deal though?
The fact that someone is inside the house.
The garage door leads through a laundry room, straight into the kitchen, where I can hear the faint scuffling of feet on the floor further into the house. Taking tentative steps, I edge into the kitchen on high alert, then run into a metaphorical wall of shock.
It takes me all of five seconds for the chemistry in my body to realign itself because it’s finally near its other half.
I clutch my chest, willing my breathing to steady.
Before I even round the corner, I know who I’ll see.
Penelope Barker, in the flesh, standing in the middle of our first home together.
I only see her upper half over the half-wall that splits the kitchen and the dining area, which flows into the living room, where she is currently folding a throw blanket to lay over the back of the couch. I give myself a full minute to just stare.
At the girl I let slip through my fingers.
I step slowly into the dining area, figuring she’ll hear me. When she doesn’t, I stop behind the couch.
“Fancy seeing you here, PJ.”
“WHAT THE FUCK?! ”
She screams. Screams bloody murder as she turns around and throws the closest object in my direction, which just so happens to be her phone. Luckily, a combination of my baseball reflexes and Penelope’s weak arm allows me to catch it against my chest before it beans me in the head or shatters completely.
I cannot wipe the smile from my face. So what if she’s breaking and entering? I’ve been looking for a way to have her in my life again since I messed it up the first time, and all of a sudden, she’s in my living room? I’ll take what I can get. Even if she is as red in the face as she is in that wild mane of hers.
“Hi,” I say with a small wave of her phone.
Her brows immediately bunch together, her breathing grows shallow, and I see fire in her eyes. There’s my feisty girl .
“What—and I cannot stress enough—the fuck , are you doing here?”
“Moving in! You?”
I sling my backpack onto the kitchen table before joining her in the living room.
“No.” She shakes her head, slow at first, quickening as her eyes grow wider, her smile more maniacal. “No. No, no, no, no you’re not moving in. I’m moving in.”
Um. What?
My face scrunches in question as I freeze.
“How is that possible?”
“Because, Anthony , my house basically exploded, and your mom said this place was available. Or are you still Tony?”
She crosses her arms, indignation twisting her expression.
“No, uh… Tony was me trying on a new persona last year. It did not stick.” The reminder of my first year in a new school, post-break-up, flushes over me in a warm wave. I extend my arm as far as it will go to offer her phone back, then sheepishly stuff my hands into my pockets. “And my mom also said that the place was available. That I could stay here while my house is being built.”
“I feel like we have been bamboozled,” she says, color sapping from her cheeks.
“Looks like it,” I say, chuckling humorlessly, as I make a mental note to give my meddling mother a call.
The silence between us is so loud, I can hear the distinction between her heart and mine, thumping on opposite beats. Then, she laughs. A loud, open-mouthed cackle, devoid of humor. It’s a little insane, but I guess so is this situation. I can’t even imagine what she has to be thinking. If I’m seeing this as a gift from the heavens above, she’s got to see this townhouse as the doorstep to the gates of hell.
Suddenly, she plops down to the middle of the floor.
“Great. Just… great. Keep the hits coming. This is awesome .”
I walk toward her like I’m stepping on shattered glass, taking a seat on the carpet when there’s a good three feet of space between us.
“You okay, PJ?”
“Stop calling me that,” she nearly growls. “And no , I am not okay with this. None of this is okay.”
I sigh, closing my eyes. This situation might work well for me—a man desperate to right his wrongs and win back the one that got away—but not at the sake of her mental well-being. I wrecked her, and I know it.
The fact of the matter is, I was in the wrong. I told Penelope I wanted to give us a shot, and while there was nothing but the truth in that statement, the moment Avery showed up on my doorstep begging me for another chance, I panicked. I let four years of a relationship and the life we built together braid around a tear-stained, pleading Avery, tucked my tail between my legs, and let myself believe I was doing the right thing by taking her back and turning into a ghost of Penelope’s past. I have lived in a miles deep well of regret ever since.
And now? She looks devastated. I did that to her— am doing it to her right now, all over again. My physical presence in this space is likely doing damage to all of the healing that she’s done. She covers it with anger, but if I learned one thing about her during that week on vacation, it’s that Penelope Barker hides herself well. A rope tugs around my heart. I know that I have to turn right around and take my unpacked boxes back to my parents’ basement. It’s the right thing to do.
I swallow, lift the hat on my head, and comb my fingers through my hair.
“I, uh… God, I’m sorry, Pen. I didn’t realize she double booked us.”
I laugh at the irony, then pull out my phone.
“I’ll fix this. I’ll uh… I’ll get out of your hair.”
I step back into the kitchen, but even as I unlock my phone, I can feel her eyes on me. I know without looking up that she’s staring daggers at me. Once upon a time, those baby blues were hovering over me, more dazzling than the midnight sky at her back. What I wouldn’t give for her anger to be replaced with admiration again.
My mom answers on the third ring.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Anthony! How is the move going? I thought you’d be busy until everything was in its place.”
“Actually, that’s what I’m calling about. I?—”
A racket erupts from her end.
“What was that?”
“Hold on, sweetie—Ed, are you okay?! Wait, give me that— Ant, hold on a sec.”
It feels like forever and a day that the clattering and clanging of metal echoes in the background, along with my parents’ grunts, before my mom returns.
“Sorry. Your dad got all of his equipment delivered and is determined to set it up himself.”
“What equipment?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“For his home gym! We’re finally doing it! With all of your stuff out of the basement, he has the space he needed. But the floor isn’t quite ready yet, is it, Ed?”
I hear my father mutter something in the background, but the rest is underwater.
My basement sanctuary is already being turned into a home gym. I have been gone less than a day.
“Ma, you told me and Pen that we could both live here,” I huff, planting a hand on my hip.
“Did I do that?” The twinkle in her voice makes my jaw harden. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. You two lived together once upon a time and you didn’t kill each other.”
“Yeah. We were infants .”
My mother’s silence worries me. She isn’t going to give in. I can feel it in the air.
“Anthony, honey, I’m sure the two of you can get along fine for a couple of months. But I’m gonna have to let you go. Call back later?”
I sigh, staring at the floor. “Yeah, Mom. We’ll talk later.”
I end the call and put my hands on my hips, gathering the courage to ruin Penelope Barker’s life once again.
“They turned your room into a gym already, didn’t they?”
“Yep,” I say to the floor.
“We’re going to be roommates, aren’t we?”
“’Fraid so.”
I wince. I’m about to apologize until the cows come home, put the savings I’ve been stock piling for this dream home reno into a hotel for the foreseeable future, when she mumbles something incoherent.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”
I lean in, and have to cover my amusement. Penelope huffs, like all of her anger has melted away, and she’s just frustrated by something. Kind of like that night we spent on the beach, when she’d had a little too much to drink, and couldn’t get her strappy sandals to stay on her feet.
God, she’s cute.
“I said … When it rains , it pours . I was just hyping myself up to teach with you, and now I have to live with you too?”
“Come again?”
She eyes me incredulously. When I stare at her in anticipation, her eyes go wide with amusement.
“Oh. Oh, you don’t know , do you?”
“Don’t know…” My neck kinks from the weird angle of trying to get her to just spill the damn beans already .
“Your school has a shitty foundation? Unteachable conditions? You are literally being scattered with your students for the year?”
“I… what?! ”
“Seriously, Ant, do you not check your emails?”
“Not during the summer!” I exclaim, already yanking my phone out of my back pocket. I fire off a text to the one friend I made during my time at Meadow Ridge Middle School, then login to my school email account. Sure enough, my inbox is littered with messages about changes to the upcoming school year. Sitting right on top is one that reads School Assignments . It doesn’t take long for me to find my name parked in the column with River Valley.
I will admit that my heart does a little flip when I see my name matched up next to Penelope Barker’s.
Then again, I feel guilty as fuck. I know it isn’t my fault, but I’ve already upended her life once. I don’t need to keep doing it over and over again.