Me: I’m on standby.
Ruby: Because you’re the best.
I take my duties as her friend very seriously, so I set the phone down next to the bag and pop open the plasticware. When my phone buzzes again, I’m fully prepared to make the call, but this time it’s not Ruby.
Mom: I had food delivered for you. Did you get it? Chicken and dumplings. I’m in the mood for comfort food and thought you might be, too.
I wish I would have known ten minutes ago. Eyeing the bag, I smile. I can’t argue with her choice of dish, but I’m just not sure if the pain in the ass delivery was worth the trouble.
Even a baseball cap flipped backward didn’t hinder his appearance because apparently, I just discovered I have a type. Small-town hero with a side of arrogance. Jesus. This is Connecticut, not Texas.
Despite his appearance, I wasn’t impressed. Dating cute guys has not worked out well for me in the past. The local bad boy doesn’t fit into my plans or help with my “balance” as he points out I evidently need.
So rude.
I balance just fine. School. Trying to think of more, I get frustrated. I’m at Yale for one reason and one reason only—to get into the medical school of my choice, and to do that, I need to keep my brain in the game. The school game, not the dating game. “What does he know anyway, Frankie?”
Returning my mom’s text, I type: Got it. Thank you.
Mom: Promise me you’ll live a little, or a lot, if you’re so inclined.
She’s become a wild woman in the past two years. I’m happy for her, but that doesn’t mean I have to change my ways to fit her new outlook on life.
As I look around my new apartment, the cleanliness brings a sense of calm to me. After living in my parents’ homes over the summer, it feels good to be back at school and on my own again.
Me: That’s a lot of promises. First, caring for Frankie, and now for my own well-being. I laugh at my joke, but I know she’ll misinterpret it, so I’m quick to add: Kidding. I will. Love you.
Mom: Hope so. Live fearlessly, dear daughter. Love you.
Feeling like I dodged another lecture on “you’re only young once,” I smile like a kid on Christmas when I find a chocolate chip cookie in the bag. With just one bite of the food, I close my eyes, savoring the flavor. “Patty sure knows how to cook.”
I click on a trivia game show and spend the time kicking the other contestants’ butts as I eat.
Soon, I’m stuffed but feeling antsy about the dough sitting at the bottom of my stomach, so I get up and slip my sneakers on before hopping on the treadmill. I warm up for a mile with that bag and the red logo staring back at me, so I pick up the pace until I’m sprinting. “I’m not trying to go anywhere. It’s good exercise,” I grumble, still bothered by what the delivery guy said. A bleacher seat therapist is the last thing I need.
I start into a jog and then a faster speed, though my gaze keeps gravitating toward the bag and the red printing on the front—Patty’s Diner. The food might have been delicious, but I can’t make a habit out of eating food that heavy or I won’t be able to wear the new clothes my mom and I just spent two weeks shopping for.
I barely make four miles before my tired muscles start to ache. I’m not surprised after a day of moving, but I still wished I could have hit five. I hit the stop button and give in to the exhaustion.
I take a shower and change into my pajamas before going through my nightly routine—brushing teeth, checking locks, turning out the lights, and getting a glass of water. I only take a few sips before I see Frankie in the living room all alone. My mom’s guilt was well-placed. I dump water in the pot and bring it with me into the bedroom. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re not staying here.”
Returning to the living room to grab my study guide for the MCAT, I hurry back to bed and climb under the covers. But after a while, I set the guide aside, behavioral sciences not able to hold my attention against my mom’s parting words.
Classes. Study. Rest. Routines are good. They’re the backbone to success. I click off the lamp, not needing my mom’s words—live fearlessly—filling my head. Those thoughts are only a distraction to my grand plan. Like that delivery guy.
2
Chloe
Sunshine floods the apartment, waking me. I avoided it temporarily around seven o’clock with a pillow over my head, but an hour later, I’m wide-awake. Opening my eyes to Frankie greeting me, I smile despite the hour. “Your grandmother will kill me if I don’t take care of you, so I think we’re going to have to come to some arrangement.”
I sit up and then climb out of bed. “I may not need the sun this early, but you might like it, little fella.”
Carrying him into the living room, I decide to set the small black pot on the windowsill. Patting the top, I say, “Have a great day,” and then get dressed for my errands.
When my bag is packed, I lock the door and head downstairs now that the shops are open. Something red grabs my attention on the stairs between the third and second floors. Bending down, I pick it up. The safety pin on the back is bent on the name tag.
Joshua.
Patty’s Diner.
My neck jerks back as if the guy from last night is here in person, his words stuck in my head again—you need balance. Still offended, I consider dumping the tag in the nearest trash can, but since I’m not near one, I drop it in my bag instead and go about my day.
The weather is stuck in summer for a few more weeks—sunny, blue skies, and a gentle breeze. It’s exciting to explore my new neighborhood after living on the other side of campus last year. Ruby found the apartments—a small building with eight units—and we were lucky enough to get the two apartments that take up the third floor. I can’t wait to spend time with her again.
Our relationship is so different from the people I grew up with. My last name gained me entrance to parties back in Newport, but my lack of interest in petty gossip showed me the exit.
I traded friends for grades. That paid off for me, but thank God, I found Ruby. She’s the one person, other than my parents, who has become a constant. I don’t know how I would have survived college without her. Coming from a similar background, she understands the pressure that is inherited with a well-known last name.
I take a breath, keeping my dreams locked safely inside. I don’t have to decide now, so I let it be, not wanting the confrontation that lies ahead to ruin today. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and smell the last day of freedom, trying to focus on the positive of my good friend returning.
I browse five stores unsuccessfully, not finding any curtains I like. Continuing to walk down the street, I’ve covered quite a few blocks and begin to feel lethargic. Caffeine wouldn’t be bad either.
A text from Ruby comes in as if she knew I needed an injection of happy: Miss me?
Me: Get here already. I giggle as I wait for her next text.
Ruby: If it were up to me, I would. The going away dinner I didn’t want is tonight. And being a Darrow means nothing less than fancy and over the top. My mom decided she couldn’t do pizza and a movie like I wanted. Nope. All of her friends and their kids must come over. I don’t think they’d even notice if I wasn’t there. Oh! You should come. Hop on a train and save me, Clo.