I swing my car keys around my index finger as I start to make my way to the exit. Rachael quickly follows, so I steal a sideways glance at her. Thank God she’s going to UCLA. She and Dean are the only two who aren’t moving away. “Are you seeing Trevor tonight?”
“I think so.” Her face lights up at the mere mention of his name. They may be in a relationship, but Rachael still sees him as her crush, as though she’s still fighting for his attention. She’s constantly blushing around him, constantly smiling. “And I think I heard Meghan say that Jared’s coming into town to visit her.”
“Where is Meg?” I ask as we slip through the exit to the sprawling student lot. The scorching sun beats down on us as we make our way to our cars, the lot emptying. No one ever hangs around for long once classes are finished for the day. “I haven’t seen her.”
“She had to ditch classes after lunch,” Rachael informs me just as we reach our cars, parked side by side, of course. Rachael throws open the door to the Bug and tosses her purse inside, but she lingers outside for a moment, staring at me from over the roofs of our vehicles. “See you tomorrow, first thing?”
When I nod, she blows me a kiss and I gracefully pretend to catch it. “Enjoy your night with Trevor!” I call just before I slide into my car and rev up the engine. The steering wheel burns my hands when I first touch it, so I end up steering with my fingertips as I peel out of the lot and onto the boulevard.
Luckily, Mom’s house is in the North of Montana region, just like Dad’s, and it’s handy having them live close by each other so that there’s no need for me to travel back and forth between opposite corners of the city. I take the Deidre Avenue route home, passing Dad’s house to see who’s there, and when I glance in my rearview mirror, I see Rachael’s car turn off the road and pull up on her driveway. We used to joke about carpooling, because our routes home are the exact same, only mine has an extra couple minutes added on top, but we’ve never gotten around to sharing rides. It’s too late to start now.
I roll down my window to let some air into my car as I push my shades on, nodding my head in sync with La Breve Vita’s newest single, an upbeat tune with a sick chorus that’s been stuck in my head for days. I refuse to ever take it off repeat.
When I reach Mom’s place, it doesn’t surprise me that there are no cars parked out front. Both she and Jack are at work, like they usually are most weekdays when I come home. Turning onto the driveway, I cut the engine and pull myself out of my car and into the blistering sunlight again. It really is hot out today. Wiping away a bead of sweat, I pull out my keys and head inside.
I’ve always found Mom’s house much more welcoming than Dad’s. Ever since she found it on the market last year, I’ve fallen in love with it. I like that it’s small and only has two bedrooms. I like that it has a cute porch and a nice fireplace. It’s always so cozy and homey inside, and it’s the perfect place for Mom and me. And Jack now too, of course. He moved in a month ago, and it’s starting to feel normal having him here all the time.
I’m greeted by Gucci the second I step foot over the threshold. She comes bounding over to me, paws sliding on the wooden flooring, tongue out. She circles my legs, sniffing at my clothes as I reach down to scratch the back of her ears, just the way she likes it. She’s a gorgeous German shepherd. It turned out Mom was actually serious last summer when she suggested getting a dog, and arriving home in Portland to find a puppy flying around the house was definitely the best thing to come home to. Mom chose the name. She told me once that she likes to believe it helps Gucci fit in here in LA. It took me a while to get it.
Right about the time Mom was considering moving down here, a job appeared at Saint John’s Health Center, a hospital right bang in the middle of the city. And if that wasn’t luck, then it sure as hell was when she actually got the job. The salary is better and the shifts are more suitable, and Mom doesn’t seem so tired all the time anymore. She’s constantly smiling, and I know it’s because of a combination of several things: Jack, the new job, and Gucci. Moving down here really has been beneficial for her.
“I hope you’re in the mood for spaghetti and meatballs, because that’s all I feel capable of making tonight,” she huffs as she walks into the living room. She’s changed out of her scrubs, but her hair is still pinned into a neat bun, her smile reaching her eyes as Gucci greets her by jumping up on her.
“She’s hyper today,” I comment, nodding my head at the crazed animal who’s attempting to slobber Mom in kisses, but she holds her back. “Did you walk her before work?”