Oh, I remember a day when I could hang out in my own house in peace. Those days are over.
"It's just 'rock, paper, scissors,' dummy," he argued.
"No, it's not! It's 'rock, paper scissors, shoot.' You're cheating!" I heard Seth exclaim.
5 grown sized people versus 1 bathroom. It was brutal. Paul hadn't slept at his house since his last showdown with his parents and I was happy that he had decided to take refuge with us. But if I had to listen to him and Seth argue over the bathroom one more time, I was going to lose my mind. "I'm not cheating, Seth. You're just an idiot," Paul said.
Sitting downstairs, I rolled my eyes at their antics. I had taken up space at the kitchen table, editing my photos of Rachel and Rebecca for their birthday. Randomly one night, I had this idea of compiling all of the pictures I'd taken of them over the years and displaying them on projectors at the party. When I talked to Rachel about it, she squealed so loud on the phone, I thought the microphone might burst. We also decided to have a little photobooth so that we could all take home memories while I took photos of people enjoying the party. I was really getting into this whole party planning thing.
As I was editing a picture of Rach and Bex holding hands, jumping off the high cliff, Paul and Seth continued to argue upstairs about who got to go to the bathroom first. They thought that a rock, paper, scissors game would help them to decide; who knew that they would find some way to screw that up? "It's 1, 2, 3, shoot. Why would you say 'scissors' and then throw something that's not scissors? That doesn't even make sense!" Seth pressed.
"Why would you say 'shoot'? What does that even mean?" Paul countered, sounding bored at this point.
"Because…well, because—you just—Leah!" Seth called in frustration.
"Leah!" Paul mocked him in a high-pitched voice before I heard a door shut. Seth groaned loudly before banging on the bathroom door. I chuckled lightly before going back to what I was doing.
Things weren't that different, really. Paul already had a seat at the table and a place to sleep. I just had a new person to drive me to school. I had a person to relax with. I had a person who would sneak upstairs at night and talk to me until the sun came up. Paul made me laugh, he made me think, and he helped me to dream. And I think I helped him to dream too.
The day after Randall hit him, Paul and I snuck into his bedroom window to steal some clothes; I had to beg him to let me go with him. Paul told me that there was nothing that I could do to protect him if we got caught, but I was living on the blind faith that they wouldn't try anything if I was with him. When we got there, Randall and Diana were screaming at each other and breaking glass every few seconds. It was horrible.
Paul wrapped an arm around my waist as he pulled me through his open window. He set me down on the floor, holding a finger to his lips. "Shhh…" he shushed really quietly. I nodded as my eyes adjusted to the dark. His full bed was pushed up against a far corner of the room and articles of clothing covered the rest of the floor. The only lamp sat on the floor next to his bed, but neither one of us dared to touch it. Paul reached for the door and quietly locked it.
Glass shattered from somewhere else in the house. "You're such an asshole, Rand! I fucking hate you!" Diana shrieked.
"Oh, you hate me? Get in line, cupcake," Randall snarled.
Paul just shook his head before tip toeing to his closet and grabbing an old football bag. I bent at the waist, running my hands over the clothes to find things that would keep him comfortable. Sweatshirts and hoodies, jeans, hopefully some clean boxers. As I threw random clothes toward Paul, he caught them with ease and shoved them inside his bag. "You ruined my life, you piece of shit! Go fuck one of your whores! Leave me alone!" Diana yelled.
The more they screamed at each other, the quicker Paul packed so we could get out of there. He worked pretty diligently, muttering to himself. "Fuck you both…" I heard him say as he zipped his duffle bag and threw it out the window. Paul walked over to his bed and lifted his mattress. I watched him slip a hand under it and feel around for a while. He froze as he heard footsteps and then the shattering of more glass. "Stop breaking shit, Diana! Damn!" Randall's voice felt like a fucking bomb, it was so loud. Paul and I looked at each other and he willed me not to move. Don't even breathe. Randall stormed past Paul's bedroom door and slammed another door so loud, it rattled the walls. I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes for a second.
Paul grabbed my hand to pull me toward the window. He had a slight panicked look on his face, like he knew what was about to happen. Before I could ask, he lifted me until I was sitting on the windowsill so I could climb out. He hopped out right behind me before clasping my hand, grabbing his bag, and running us toward my house.
That was a week and a half ago; I had been in that house for five minutes and was shaken to my core. How would Paul have survived if the rest of the reservation hadn't gathered together to take care of him?
Seth came downstairs grumbling under his breath. He started opening and closing cabinets before settling on snacking on a bag of chips. "I don't know why you let him fluster you, Bub," I commented, chuckling a little.
The doorbell rang. I got up and walked over to the door. Rachel and Rebecca were supposed to come over to hang out and study for midterms. Midterms, spring break, Rachel and Rebecca's birthday, prom, graduation. It was easy to think of everything in succession like that. They were steppingstones, not life changing events, you know?
Every day, it was like I was soaking up every extra moment I had with my best friends. I already knew that I would visit Bex as much as possible when she left for Hawaii. It was strange to think about not seeing them every day. The three of us were sitting around the coffee table, books out, not even paying attention to them. Bex was going on and on about this new guy she had been seeing. Well, not really new. She had recently started talking to the guy that worked at the good tattoo shop in Port Angeles. "He's like 21, Bex. What do you guys even do?" my sweet Rachel asked. Becca wiggled her eyebrows at her twin. Rachel looked so confused for a second before she gasped, "Rebecca!"
Bex and I laughed at Rachel as her russet skin blushed bright red. She started to hide her face with her hair, her shoulders shaking a little with laughter. "Sex is a beautiful thing, my dear twin," Bex commented. "Love it, embrace it, have a lot of it all the time."
"But what about the first time with the one you love? Doesn't that make it more special? To be with one person forever?" Rachel asked.
"I just don't think there's anything wrong with having some fun," Becca said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, what do you think, Leah? Should sex just be a free for all or should it be intimate with one person? You and Sam were each other's firsts. Wasn't that special?"
A deep chuckle came from the kitchen as the fridge opened. The hiss and click of a can opening filled the silence as we all looked to see Paul chuckling to himself. "Do you have something to say?" I asked, sarcastically.
Paul took a sip from a soda can before locking eyes with me, "Nope." He walked over and sat next to me on the floor. He flicked my ear before bumping my shoulder. I swatted at his hand before bumping him back. He looked at me, expectantly. "Well?"
"Yes, Lee, we would looove to know your thoughts," Bex chimed in.
So…the twins were polar opposites if you couldn't tell. And I sat right in the middle of them. I had only been with two people in my entire life as compared to Rebecca's 10 and Rachel's 0. Rachel was more conservative in nature; both of their definitions of "your body is a temple" were completely different. And that was fine. That was why I needed both of them. That sliding scale is slippery; one kept me grounded and one kept me free. "I think…" I started, carefully, "that my first time was special, and I wouldn't change it. Because…when it's right, it's right, you know?"
Rebecca started laughing as I palmed my forehead. "See?" Rachel pointed out. "Leah thinks sex should be special."
"Can we change the subject please?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"I think we should keep talking about this," Bex laughed.
"Me too, actually," Paul said, looking at me with a small smirk on his face.
I looked at him and noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed. Donning a pair of dark jeans, a black shirt, his worn-down motorcycle boots, and a jean jacket, he looked good for his day. But hadn't said anything about stepping out. "Are you leaving?" I asked, gesturing to his appearance.
He glanced down, "Uh, yeah, I'm just going out for a second."
"By yourself?"
As if to answer my question, the doorbell rang. He hopped up quickly, "No, but I'll see you guys later, alright?" He made a swift exit leaving no time for questions.
Becca and I glanced at each other before jumping up to spy out the front window behind the couch. Paul had his hands shoved in his front pockets as he walked toward a little red Volkswagen Beetle…with a girl. Her true black hair was pulled into a side ponytail and she was dressed in the tightest pair of jeans I had ever seen and a baby blue off the shoulder top. I watched as she placed a hand on his shoulder and casually reached up to kiss his cheek. He leaned away before she could make contact and swung open the passenger's side door for her. Her face was caked with makeup as usual. "Is that…?" Becca stopped as I nodded.
"Olivia Alister," I finished. Paul walked around to the driver's side, looking around before hopping in and rolling down the driveway. It was only when the VW Bug was out of sight that I could get my dropped jaw off the ground. He was seeing Olivia Alister again?
"Wait—,"
"Bex, don't start," I said.
"What's wrong?" Rachel asked behind us.
"No, no, no, I don't get it," Becca said, facing me. "What is he doing with Olivia?"
"Becca, I already told you it's not a thing," I tried to reason with her.
"What's going on?" Rachel asked again.
"I'm never wrong about this stuff, Lee. You know this."
"Let it go. Now." I turned around and plopped on the couch, feeling a little disheartened.
"Guys!" Rachel called. We looked up at her confused face. "What's the problem?"
"Leah likes Paul again," Rebecca blurted. She exclaimed an 'ow' when I smacked her hard on the arm. Rachel's eyes widened. "What? It's true! And he likes her too."
"Rebecca!" I scolded. "Stop!"
So, remember when I told you that Paul and Olivia got caught having sex on a teacher's desk during first lunch? That was kind of the impetus for an on again, off again friends with benefits things. He never brought her around us, but we always knew when they were hooking up. She wasn't exactly the most subtle person; Olivia liked to brag about being with Paul. Which…if I'm honest, that's not a great feat. Paul liked to fuck a lot of people. I think she thought she was the closest thing he'd ever been to a relationship. I remember the last time they were hooking up over the summer, she walked up to me with the most brazen look on her face and said, "Have you seen Paul? I left my panties in his bedroom by mistake." Sure, Olivia.
We all didn't like Paul and Olivia's situation, but Paul was always going to do what Paul wanted to do. Whenever he was seeing anyone else, he'd bring them around, have them on his arm, and do normal courting things. But Olivia was different; she hadn't been around in a while, so I guess I thought it was over.
"Is that true, Lee?" Rachel asked me in a gentle tone. She stood from the floor and sat next to me on the couch. "Do you have feelings for Paul?"
I sighed and shrugged my shoulders.
"You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately. You obviously care about each other. He's defended you more times than I can count through this whole Sam thing. Has he said anything about how he feels about you?" Rachel reached up to stroke the back of my hand in comfort. She was truly the gentlest soul I'd ever known.
I shook my head, "No."
"Is it over with Sam?" she asked. I mumbled an 'I don't know.' "Well…do you want to know what I think?"
"Always," I answered.
She tempered her words for a second before speaking, "I think you've been more yourself lately than we've been able to see in a long time," she said. "I don't know if that's because of Paul or…something else, but you seem happier. More free, I guess. And it's wonderful to see. If Paul is the one making you happy, I don't think it would be the worst thing in the world to maybe explore that."
"Not if he's busy sticking his dick in Olivia Alister…" Bex mumbled.
Rachel rolled her eyes, ignoring her sister. "What about Sam? What's going on there?" she asked.
"I haven't talked to Sam in almost a month," I told her. "I don't even…I don't know…"
"Alright," Rachel sighed. "So just take it one day at a time. I think you do have more complex feelings for Paul than you might want to admit to yourself right now—"
"He's my friend," I interjected.
"Then just be friends. Until you know, for sure, what you want," Rachel said, taking my hand in hers. "And I think it's important to be honest. If him being with Olivia bothers you, you can tell him. And you'll both figure out where to go from there."
Becca put a comforting hand on my back as I rubbed my face in frustration. "She makes a good point, Lee," Bex said.
I looked at both of my girls and just said a quick thank you to every higher power that they could be in my life. While Rebecca could be a little more unfiltered, it was nice to hear them both tell me what they think without judgment. They wanted me to be happy. "I just don't want to lose him again," I felt myself say. Where did that come from?
"You won't," Bex assured me. "And if you do, then that means he wasn't meant to be. That there's something better out there for you. But you never know, Lee, he might surprise you."
XXXXXXXXX
I heard my bedroom door creak open late. His steps were quiet, but deliberate. "Lee?" he whispered. "Are you asleep?"
I was a light sleeper. So, I could always hear people coming up and down the stairs or going to the bathroom in the middle of the night or every occasion when Seth somehow falls out of his bed onto the floor. It didn't matter how quiet Paul thought he was, I could hear him.
Paul stood at the door for a beat or two before walking over to perch on the edge of my bed. He sighed a little; he ran his fingers through my hair, moving it from my face. "I was hoping you'd be up, but…I'm kind of glad you're not. I don't like that look you give me when I fuck up."
He didn't smell sweet. He smelled like faded Viva La Juicy and sweat. He was twirling a stand of my hair between his fingers as he spoke to me. "I ended things with Liv today. For good. My head is all mixed up, I guess. I thought I could distract myself from thinking about my best friend's girl and…that just didn't work." He sighed again. "So, I told Liv I couldn't see her anymore. And, uh, then she punched me in the chest and made me walk home. Consequence of catching feelings, huh?"
I feel like how my dad feels when he and Charlie Swan go deer hunting. Paul was the deer; easily frightened by sudden movements or even the slightest inkling that I was awake. So, I just laid there, letting him play with my hair and speak his mind. "I'm really glad you're asleep; I don't really want to think about what you would say if you were listening right now. I…I got feelings for you, Lee. But I know there's nothing I can do about it, you know? It is what it is. I think you're supposed to teach me something, but I don't know what it is yet. Maybe I need to sleep on it." He cupped my cheek and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before he stood up.
The sound of the doorknob turning made my eyes finally open. He was still completely dressed, his shoulders hunched just a little, in defeat. "You can stay in here with me," I said quietly before he could slip out of the door. His head whipped around and his face wore complete shock at my open eyes. I pulled the covers down on the other side of my queen bed before looking at him expectantly.
"That doesn't sound like a great idea, Leah," he whispered.
"Are you going to lay down or not?" I asked, turning my back to him to lie my head on my pillow. I didn't wait for him to make a decision; I just closed my eyes, feeling him stare at my back.
A minute or so later, I felt Paul slide into the bed next to me. He was lying on the edge as if he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. My eyes popped open. He was looking at me with those eyes. I held out my arm to urge him closer. He sighed before scooting closer, still maintaining his version of a healthy distance. Paul grabbed two pillows with his large hands and placed them between us. He gave me a look that said, "Don't try it." That's ok. I wouldn't push it; I just rested my hand on his torso to make sure he wouldn't bolt and closed my eyes again.
XXXXXXXXX
When I woke up, my face was buried in Paul's chest. His strong arm was draped over my waist and his chin was resting on the top of my head. Our legs were entangled, mine bare and his still dressed in jeans. Do I dare mention his little—not so little—morning issue? I normally wouldn't if it was just hard and still. But it wasn't. I could feel it pulsating and throbbing every minute. His muscular chest rose and fell with every even breath and his body was so warm.
I had slept so soundly that night that I didn't know at which point we had become so entwined in each other. He looked peaceful; he breathed a sigh of content as he rested. I felt as he unconsciously pulled me closer, flush against his body. I watched as his eyes fluttered open and met mine. His fingers bunched my loose t shirt into his fist before I saw him slowly blink, furrow his eyebrows, and then gasp as he threw himself out of the bed. "Oh fuck!" he said as his body hit the ground. He groaned a little in pain.
My head popped over the side, absolutely concerned. "Are you alright?" I asked, reaching for him. He recoiled from my touch, scooting on his butt closer to my window seat.
He shot to his feet, covering his area with his hand. "We were cuddling," he said, matter of factly. I narrowed my eyes in confusion before nodding. I asked him what his problem was when he started pacing. He didn't answer; he just kept looking at me and sighing loudly before dropping onto my window seat. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair before he hopped up. "This is not good," he said finally. "I put up a pillow wall. What happened to the pillow wall?"
"It was an accident. I-I'm sorry," I said, lowering my head.
"Shit," he mumbled before sliding on his knees toward the bed. "Don't apologize, Lee. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It just felt so…so…"
"Comfortable?" I offered.
He studied my face for what felt like a lifetime before nodding. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. I wish I knew what he was thinking—actually, I wish he would keep saying out loud what he was thinking.
I replayed the conversation I had with Rach and Becca the day before. They told me that I needed to be honest with him, but that would mean that I would have to admit some things to myself first. My heart had skipped a beat when Paul said that he had feelings for me. He wasn't the type to just spend this much time with anyone. We weren't just spending time together; he let me see parts of him that he was always too proud to show other people. He had faith in me that I wouldn't judge him the same way he never judged me. It was honestly so nice to be unabashedly myself around someone.
But this moment? It felt like a standoff. Who was going to speak first? Paul's eyes trailed down to my oversized shirt, fiddling with the material between his fingers. It was Sam's from some football camp a million years ago. Somehow still a barrier even if he wasn't physically present. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It was just the first shirt at the top of my drawer when I got out of the shower, nothing else. But Paul just kept staring at it. "Can't do it this way…" he whispered. I almost didn't hear him.
"Do what?" I asked, tentatively putting my hand over his. I already knew what he was going to say though.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, hard. "The line is blurring more by the day," he said, lifting his head. "We can't do that again. Not while things are so uncertain with Sam. I won't do that to either of you."
I nodded slowly, "Ok…I agree." I lifted my hand away from him and leaned back on my hands before casually repeating his words from last night, "It is what it is…right?"
His eyes narrowed slightly as he silently questioned me. I pursed my lips and didn't blink. I wasn't about to offer any more information if he wasn't. Today, we were supposed to work on the menu and the cake for the twins' party. If he wanted us to just be friends, then we would just be friends. His reaction to waking up next to me still stung though. Shaking my head a little, I stood up from my bed, grabbed my towel, and walked out of my room without looking back at him.
After I got out of the shower, I went downstairs to find Paul stretched out on the couch, watching the Food Network. He had a notebook in his lap and he looked really intense. He had changed out of his clothes from the day before, but he still smelled like Olivia's perfume. His favorite shows were Chopped and Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives. And he'd never admit it, but he loves Barefoot Contessa; he says Ina relaxes him. She was making an old-fashioned apple crisp; her voice was quite zen, I couldn't argue with that. "You always want to zest the orange before you juice it. Otherwise, you won't be able to zest it," she advised.
"Damn it, Ina, you're nothing short of a genius," Paul mumbled, hanging on her every word. I snorted a laugh before moving his feet off the couch. He sat straight up and looked at me with wide eyes before turning down the television. "I didn't think you were going to come down."
"I told you I was going to help," I reminded him with a soft, friendly smile.
His face lit up. "Great! I already have some ideas written down. Ina inspired me," he said, handing me his notebook. "But you know the twins best, so you can let me know what they would like."
I loved to hear how excited he was about food. In true Rachel fashion, she's letting Paul (and me, kind of) build the menu and then she would make adjustments, as needed. She had this vision of everyone dressing up like something out of Gossip Girl. So, being as sweet as he was, Paul had ideas that would elevate that. He spoke animatedly about the different spins he could put on regular "party food."
We made our way into the kitchen and sat at the table. "So I had this idea," he repeated for the fifth time. "What if both of the girls had a signature drink for the night?"
"Like catered to their personalities?" I asked.
"Exactly," he grinned. "Bex is this firecracker, right? No nonsense, feisty, and bold. So, she would be like…" he paused to think.
"A spicy margarita," I suggested with a giggle. He nodded in agreement as he took notes. "Or a straight shot, no chaser."
He chuckled. "I'm sure plenty of people will be taking shots at the Black party."
"What about Rachel?" I asked.
He set down his pencil and looked up in thought. "Rach is easily the kindest person I know. She's like if a warm hug on a rainy day was a person. She needs something sweet, just like her," his nose scrunched as he racked his brain. "She's like a strawberry mojito or a tequila sunrise."
"What would I be?"
Paul smirked at me, "It would be too easy to make a Sex on the Beach joke right now."
I laughed out loud, pushing his arm. "It must be a gift to be able to make everything dirty," I commented.
He shrugged and winked at me. "It is," he confirmed. He checked his notes again, tapping his pencil to his chin. "I haven't thought about the cake at all."
"I know they both like funfetti," I told him. "But I don't know if that's what they want."
His face twisted in disgust like I had just told him I wiped my ass with his favorite shirt. "That is a disgrace. Ina would never."
He was studying the inspiration cake that Rachel gave him. His eyes were practically dancing at the idea of being able to create. I realized in that moment that I'd been using him as a crutch while everything changes that I still hadn't known what he was going to do after our impending graduation. "Hey," I said. He glanced up at me, curiously. "Have you thought about maybe going to culinary school?" I asked.
"What?"
"Culinary school," I repeated. "Turning your passion into a career. That's what life is all about, right?"
His face paled as he started to stutter. "I-I don't see that happening, Lee."
"Why not?"
"Just, uh, not in the cards for me, you know?"
"Says who?" I asked, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table. "Don't you want to own your own restaurant one day?"
He snorted. "Yeah, I'd love to be able to afford that," he replied sarcastically. "Life after we graduate isn't really at the forefront of my mind right now."
"'Paul Lahote, Head Chef' sounds pretty cozy," I shrugged.
"So does 'Leah Clearwater, World Famous Photographer,'" he retorted, looking back down at his notebook.
I rolled my eyes, "One of those is much more attainable than the other."
"Not to me," he said, simply. I didn't have anything to say to that. The way he looked at life was black and white, right or wrong. Either you do it or you don't. I wanted to be more like that; Paul always made it seem so easy. "Tell me something," he said, finally looking at me with a serious expression.
"What?" I asked.
"How often do you think about yourself when you're making life decisions?"
I glared at him. He shrugged at me, patiently waiting for an answer. "That's…not fair," I told him.
From outside, we could hear my family coming up the path. Up until now, I had hardly noticed they were gone. Sometimes with him, I was so wrapped up in his attention that I forgot about other things. We had spent the morning talking about food and the party and things that were actually fun, not stressful. He didn't put me on this ridiculously high pedestal. I didn't have to worry about disappointing my parents or worrying my brother with my choices. Paul was the one person in this house who wanted me to be me, unapologetically.
A round of laughter came from the porch before I could hear the keys turning in the door. "…so excited to have you here for the rest of the semester, Em," my mom said, excitedly. "Leah, sweetie! We're home! Guess who's here!"
"Lee, Emily's here!" Seth announced, practically bouncing into the door. I stood up from the table and took in my cousin in all of her glory. A happy gasp escaped my mouth as I ran to hug my cousin. My closest cousin. The closest thing I had to a real-life sister.
Emily and I grew up together. Her and her mother, Cora, lived with us for a while when Seth and I were little. It was a little tight, but I was so excited to get to share a room with her; we would stay up through the dead of the night, under our bunk bed fort and talk for hours. And then Cora decided to get back together with Emily's father and they moved to the Makah reservation. Now, I only saw Emily during the summer. She would come stay with us for a couple of weeks and then she would head back to her family.
If there was ever an angel that was delicately placed on this earth, it was Emily. Someone actually told her once that she was as pure as freshly fallen snow and she turned red from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed as I ran to hug her.
She grinned at me as she held her hands out for an embrace. I'm sure everyone in the Reservation could hear the squeals that were coming from both of us as we hugged. "I thought you were coming in May!" I exclaimed as we rocked each other back and forth.
"I got an independent study this semester. I wanted to surprise you!" she told me as she held me out at arm's length. "Aunt Sue and Uncle Harry told me I can stay all semester and all summer."
This was the best surprise ever. With everything going on, I hadn't been talking to Emily as much as I liked to. We used to talk every single day for hours and hours. Even Sam knew not to get in the middle of our conversations; it was the only time we could spend time together during the school year. Then she started dating this guy named Ben. Ben was…well, he wasn't great. I think he was more into the idea of Emily than Emily herself. He liked the way they looked in the mirror but didn't like to put in the work to make their actual relationship work.
But that's my sister. As long as she was happy, I was happy.
"Well, let's let Em get herself settled," my dad chuckled. So, I guess that makes six. 6 grown sized people versus 1 bathroom. It'll be great! It'll be perfect. "We'll get started on dinner and how does a drive-in movie sound?"
"Oh, that sounds so wonderful!" Emily grinned.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and led her into the house. Dad grabbed Em's suitcase and hauled it upstairs while Mom and Seth went to get the rest of her things from the car. Paul stood up from the table and waved, "Hey Emily," he said a little sheepishly.
Emily waved politely. "It's good to see you, Paul," she said. She glanced at the notebook before gesturing to it. "What are you guys working on?"
"It's the twins 18th birthday in a couple of weeks," I explained. "Paul is an amazing cook so he's helping out with the food and cake at the party. You remember the twins, of course."
"Of course! Billy's daughters. Rachel and…" she trailed off, lifting her head to think.
"Rebecca," Paul finished for her.
"Right, duh," Emily shook her head, playfully.
"Since you're here for the semester, you can come to the party. It'll be so much fun!" I gasped. "We get all dressed up and dance the night away."
Emily and I chatted for a while while Paul just sat quietly at the table with us. I remember when I was a kid, I begged my parents for Emily to stay with us and Cora could go back to the Makah reservation to her husband. That way I would have everyone that I love on the same reservation. It would have been perfect. My mom had to tell me that there was no way I could make everything perfect; sometimes people have to make decisions for themselves and not for everyone else. Cora wanted them to be a family, no matter how content she was living with us. She made a decision for herself. Yes, I understand the irony in that right now. I have a hard time learning a lesson the first time around, ok? Get off my back.
After dinner, we were gearing up to pile into two cars: me, Emily, and Paul in my car and my parents and Seth in another. Paul grabbed my keys to start the car in the garage. I was pulling on my shoes when the doorbell rang. Oh, I need to grab a sweater," Emily said as she scurried upstairs.
"Leah, can you get the door?" my dad called.
I shouted a, "Yeah," before walking over to the front door, not even bothering to check to see who it was through the curtain drawn window. I swung it open and was met with a hard, solid chest. My eyes trailed up until I saw Sam's familiar brown eyes looking down at me. His face looked hard, but his eyes looked guilty. He reached up to scratch the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. "Uh, hey Lee Lee," he said, clearing his throat.
"Hey…" I replied, unable to hide my shock that he was actually standing in front of me right now. I hadn't heard from him in weeks. Anytime I asked my dad about it, he brushed me off. And, somehow, Sam looked even bigger now than he did before he left. He was huge. He wasn't just towering over him. He was…sky-scraping over me.
I heard the door behind me close but paid it no mind. "Can we talk?" he asked, hooking his finger behind him. He wanted me to step outside so we could have some privacy.
I bit my lip and broke eye contact with him. "We're all about to go to the drive-in, actually."
"Samuel," I heard behind me. When I turned around, I saw my dad, a concerned look on his face. "How are you feeling, son?"
"Better, sir," Sam answered, as if he was trying to communicate more than what he was willing to say.
"So, everything is under control?" my dad pressed.
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded. "I just came to see Leah. But I can come back late—,"
I shook my head, "No, it's fine. Do you…maybe want to come?" What was I supposed to do? Send him off? Not see him again for another two or three or four weeks?
Sam looked over my head, I'm assuming at my father for some kind of secret approval, when he stopped. I watched his jaw fall slack and his entire body stilled. His eyes grew wider and his face lost all color. My head turned in what felt like slow motion to see what he was looking at. I saw Emily standing in the middle of the staircase, her sweater dropped at her feet and the same expression on her face. It seemed like an eternity, a lifetime, before either of them snapped out of it. I could hear my father curse under his breath and Paul, from what felt like a million miles away, ask what was going on.
"Sam?" I asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked back to reality and looked down at me. He squinted his eyes a couple of times before shaking his head. "Are you alright?" I asked.
"Yeah…" he said, uncertain. Then he nodded once. "Yes, I'd love to go to the drive-in."