(I am ignoring the DVD ending. Nuh uh. Nope. Not acknowledging that extra scene. Can't.
With that said, enjoy! I haven't forgotten about this business, don't you worry. Thank you for reading!)
"Watch it."
"Piss off."
"Oh my god, Hal."
As muscular as he was, Hal was straining to lift their couch, backed against the wall, Tom on the other side, Alex acting as choreographer.
"Just let Hal go through the door first and take it really slow."
"May as well just throw the bloody thing down the stairs," Tom sighed, bending over to give lifting it a fresh attempt. "Alright. C'mon."
The gang was moving out of Honolulu Heights. They were moving to separate apartments, which was inevitable, but they had found a solution to the possibility of a sad goodbye – the apartments were one floor from each other. Hal and Alex, of course, were splitting one, and Tom was living on the floor under them. They were splitting the furniture between them. Alex looked like a deer, bounding gaily over boxes in the hallway, rushing back and forth from the moving van to their rooms, taping and gathering and sweeping while the boys moved the heavy items.
"Just a few more," she called when they had returned, 15 minutes later, from getting the couch into the truck. "We just need the upstairs dresser-" an noise of anguish from Hal – "and a few book stands and things and then we're good."
The space was lonely without the furniture and Alex turned slowly around, standing with her hands on her hips in the living room. The Hawaiian wall stood stark next to the bar, which was still stocked with dusty bottles that filtered light in at odd angles, that none of the inhabitants had touched.
She remembered how it was when Annie was still here, and how Annie hadn't liked her at first. The very first time they had been alone together was on the couch that Hal and Tom had just wrestled out the door. The sun was starting to set and she sighed, suddenly unwilling to leave. They had to, but there was a charm about the place. It had a lot of energy. The walls had seen a lot. Alex did a last-minute sweep of the house while Tom single-handedly carried a small table down the stairs and out the door, Hal maneuvering around him to follow up with the chairs.
Would the next people who moved in have any idea what happened here? Would it know that its inhabitants struggled and died on the floor of this very living room, in these very bedrooms?
Alex came down the stairs slowly, feeling the warm wood banister between her fingers, unevenly painted, frequently used.
Hal saw her downcast eyes and leaned, ever-suave, against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He let her speak, and she took a moment to twine her arm around his back before elaborating.
"I'm gonna miss it here."
