Olivia
Sunday morning, I woke up at daybreak. The warm light washed through the pale blue walls of my room, mirroring the blend of colours in the sky. I was still a little jetlagged from my two-month trip to Europe, and despite only getting five hours of sleep last night, my body clock was telling me it was time to start the day.
I rolled to the side of the bed facing my window. My eyes widened and my body lurched forward. My chest was heaved in a sustained breath as I stared in horror.
Across my window, the neighbour had covered the window with a poster of a skeleton surrounded by roses. The illustration itself wasn't terrifying, but the discrepancy from my usual view was jarring. I reached for my glasses on the bedside table, and upon further inspection, saw it was a Grateful Dead poster from a 1977 music festival.
It was strange. That room had been used for storage since the man next door moved in a little over a year ago. He left the windows bare, which allowed me to see the stacks of unpacked boxes. Strange, I thought to myself. I couldn't decide if the poster covering the window was an attempt to hide the mess or an attempt to hide the contents of those boxes.
I wouldn't put it past my neighbour. Since moving in last spring, he had mostly kept to himself. He was often out all day, taking his truck across town to a new housing development. When I did see him on the rare occasion, he seemed polite. He would smile back and say "good morning" in a distinct Southern accent, but he never revealed any hints of his personality beyond the standard courtesy.
He was a handsome man in a young Robert Redford kind of way. I would be lying if I didn't say I was mildly attracted to him. Sometimes, I'd hear the engine of his truck pull into the driveway and I'd sneak over to the window and ogle like some kind of peeping Tom.
As normal as he appeared, there was something about him that seemed off. Why would a man like him be living in a three-bedroom family home in the middle of a suburban snooze fest? Sure, he was a contractor, but from what I'd heard from the neighbourhood gossip, this was a relatively new career shift for him. Some said he was divorced with kids, but no one ever came to visit him apart from his business partner.
I rose from the bed and walked toward the window, pushing it open further to welcome more of the morning breeze. Leaning against the sill, I studied the house next door and thought back to this very day last year. I was lying on my stomach while doodling in the corner of my journal. Elliot was on the floor, leaning against the foot of my bed and tossing a baseball up in the air.
"Hey Liv," Elliot said, looking at me from over his shoulder. "I saw something weird when I got here."
"Yeah?"
"I passed by your mom's office and her door was open. She had her chair turned to face the window, so I couldn't see her face. But I did see your neighbour smiling and waving at her."
"What?" I asked incredulously. If the neighbour kept to himself most of the time, Serena, by comparison, was a hermit. She didn't interact with the neighbours. It wasn't because she was an elitist English professor and outspoken feminist; it had more to do with her commitment to avoiding the banalities of life in suburbia. She wasn't part of any parents' groups, community watch programs, or book clubs. She would attend parent-teacher conferences if she was absolutely needed, but she usually slipped out before fruit punch and stale butter cookies were served. "Are you sure about what you saw?"
"Would I lie to you?" Elliot returned with a question. He raised a brow and pressed his lips together in a tight smile. "Forget it. I'm sure it meant nothing."
A nervous chuckle slipped out of my mouth. "Yeah, I'm sure my mom would be interested in a man with a tool belt."
"I guess it's a good thing I'm not dating her daughter then. Serena would never approve."
My gaze turned to Elliot, eyes hardening at his light-hearted comment. He meant no harm by it. After all, the possibility of us dating had always been hinted since we were kids, so much that it didn't faze him when he randomly threw it in conversation.
Elliot had a point though. Serena looked down at most of the boys in my school because she felt they weren't mature enough for me. And although Elliot was satisfied to live the rest of his life doing blue collar work, Serena had a special place in her heart for him. He would always be the little boy who carried little Olivia through the snow when Janis Donovan stole her boots.
"If anyone's parents have a problem, it's yours."
He didn't say anything, because he knew I was telling the truth.
Amanda
"It's dark in here."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I groaned into my pillow, making my discontent louder as Frank turned on the lights to my bedroom. My dad entered my room and inspected the glossy posters covering the windows. He peeled back the tape in one corner and studied one poster featuring The Allman Brothers Band. He pouted approvingly before turning toward the bed.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. We have a long day ahead of us."
"It's Sunday."
"I'm well aware what day it is, pumpkin. But I don't know if you've noticed, but your room needs some work."
He was right. My room was a blank slate, not because Frank was too lazy to decorate, but because he said he wanted me to be here to make executive decisions on the design. To be honest, I didn't really care. The queen bed, desk, and stark white walls were good enough for me. I had lived all my life sharing a bedroom with my little sister that having a room for myself felt like heaven by comparison.
"We're picking out paint colours, getting you some more furniture, and then some drapes or something for those windows."
"I don't know, dad," I said, pulling myself up to rest on my elbow. I gave him a lopsided smile, my eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "I kind of like what I've done with the place."
"Very funny, but I don't think our neighbours appreciate the view."
"They probably have terrible taste in music then."
He shrugged and thought about it for a second. "You're probably right, but we don't want to upset Ms. Diaz across the street. She's got a bad heart."
"Fine," I huffed dramatically, throwing the covers off of me. I smiled back at my dad, a moment of seriousness passing between us. "Thanks for taking me in."
"You're always welcome here, pumpkin." He said before he kissed the top of my head.
Elliot
The muffler was loose, which explained the exhaust leak. This would be a costly repair in another shop; they'd probably tell the customer he'd have to replace his entire exhaust system. But I could probably figure something out and save him an extra thousand dollars.
"Hey, Stabler, your lady friend's here."
I lifted my head at the intrusion, nearly hitting myself on the bottom of the car. "Shit," I muttered as I rolled on the creeper to greet Kathy. I had seen her in church that morning for Sunday mass, but she sometimes stopped by at work to bring sandwiches for me and the guys. "Hey, Kath —"
But it wasn't my girlfriend. And I knew before I even saw her face. All I saw were black ankle boots, tanned legs, and full hips encased in tight black shorts and I knew it was my best friend. When I saw the fade of her smile, I instantly regretted what I had said.
"Liv! Shit, you're back!" I pushed myself off the floor and reached around her to give her a hug. She took a step back, her eyes running down my torso and her mouth twisted into a frown. I looked down to see my t-shirt and arms covered in black stains of engine oil. "Ah, sorry." I smiled sheepishly, clutching the back of my neck with my hand. "You just got back?"
"No, actually, I arrived yesterday afternoon," she answered quietly.
"Yesterday? I thought we — You said you'd surprise me the day you got back."
"I was going to, but you were having a barbecue in your backyard. I didn't want to interrupt."
"What? You came over?" I asked in disbelief. "You should've told me. I've been waiting to hear from you all summer."
"We Skyped."
"Yeah, but it wasn't the same."
"I know," she sighed, biting down on her bottom lip. Seeing her in front of me felt so surreal. Olivia spending her summer in another continent was the longest time we've ever spent apart. It was killing me not to be able to wrap my arms around her and smell the warm vanilla of her skin. She was more tanned than I remembered. Her hair was longer, bronze and caramel streaking through the loose waves.
"You look… different." I'm a fucking idiot, I cursed myself. Olivia's brows were knotted, her head tilting to the side as if unsure how to respond. "I'm sorry, I meant, you look good… like you just came back from vacation."
"I did, but thanks for the compliment, El."
I didn't know what was wrong with me. I wasn't usually this much of a mumbling idiot around my best friend, but something had changed in those two months she was away. Maybe we were apart for so long that I had forgotten how to interact with her the way we used to. Maybe I just missed her so much that I was overwhelmed by all these bizarre, conflicting emotions.
"Elliot!" My boss called from his office. He had a phone pressed on his shoulder and his hand up to signal me to come inside. "Mr. McCoy wants to know what's wrong with his Beemer."
"Liv, I —"
"You need to go, I know," she said with an understanding smile. "I can't stay anyway. I just stopped by to say hi before I go meet up with Alex and Casey."
"The girls get first dibs on your tales of debauchery?" I teased, knowing Olivia was no girl-next-door, but she wasn't a daredevil either.
She laughed in that throaty kind of way that had my heart clenching. "No. I ran into Nick — like, I almost literally ran over him with my car yesterday. We caught up over dinner. I don't think I came home until after eleven," she said with a chuckle and shake of her head.
"Amaro?"
I bit my tongue and grit my teeth, trying to restrain myself from telling Liv how I felt about Nick. He wasn't a bad guy by any means. He was an okay teammate. But I still didn't trust him after he antagonized Cutter and sucker punched him. And I certainly didn't trust the guy around Olivia. A small part of me almost wished she had hit him with her car.
"El, your boss looks like his head's going to explode." She pointed her thumb over at the glass-encased office. "I'd go in there if I were you."
"Yeah…" I trailed off. "We'll catch up, okay? You busy tonight? I'll stop by after work."
"I'm probably staying over at Casey's."
"Sure. Tomorrow then?"
"Mom and I are driving to the cottage to escape all the labour day parades. You know how it is with her."
I nodded and smiled weakly. "I guess I'll see you in school."
"Bye, El."
