“Not if you take the books off first. It’s from IKEA. It legitimately weighs two pounds.”
“Oh, shut up,” he huffs into the cell, and then I can hear my books being pulled off and thrown onto the floor.
“Hey! Those are my favorites. Some of them are signed. Be careful with them.”
“Oh my god. Elliot, come take the phone away from me before I lose it.” There’s a shuffle like the cell is being passed back and forth, some muttering, and then a final “fuck!” before Elliot’s voice is on the other end of the line. It’s the first time I’ve heard it since the night he held me in his arms and helped to save my life.
“Hey,” he says, all out of breath and a little distant, awkward, unsure of what to say next.
“Hey back. You’re helping my dad, too?” A quick glance out the window reveals that Mrs. Somers has gone back into hiding, so I head into the living room and stretch out on the couch, trying to imagine Elliot, Cline, and my father all working diligently to take my things down and pack them up to bring back here.
“Of course. Like I’d leave the state of your possessions in the hands of The Hulk over here? He only had two breakfasts today, so he’s starting to get hangry. I’m afraid he’ll start throwing things in boxes just to get done faster.”
I don’t even realize that I’m smiling until I start to speak again. “I appreciate your dedication. If he’s currently causing damage to my book collection, I’m going to have to go across the street and tell his mom about that time I caught him stealing our neighbor’s Maxim subscription when we were seven.”
Elliot laughs and reiterates the threat. “He’s being very, very careful with your books now. It’s an interesting collection, I’ve gotta tell you.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know. I guess it just has more Young Adult than I pegged you for. Romance. Stuff to make you cry. Books they make movies out of. And, from the looks of it, you have a predilection for book boys with one leg.”
I close my eyes and laugh, conjuring up the best image I can of Elliot’s face before I answer. “Nah. Real life boys with two legs top that any day.”
May bleeds into June, and June fades into July. July’s warmth wavers on the roads outside, causing heat to shimmer off the asphalt. Even though we are some of the very few who have decided to stay around the college town for the summer—who are not directly involved in summer classes—there are plenty of people for us to talk to or run into when we do decide to wander out of our apartment. I don’t have a lot of time to do that as I prepare my presentation for Ten2One. I’ve busted my ass, spending almost every available moment I have on perfecting this game concept in hopes that it will land me the position to present the mock-up and get a chance to earn an internship with them.
If that happens, I could very well be on my way to making this game myself in just a matter of years.
Cline insists that I take some time out to watch the fireworks from our building on the Fourth of July, and I do, but my head is in a different place, thinking about Audrey four hours away, in the same state, wondering what she’s doing at this exact same moment.
She’d laugh at thoughts like this. Me sitting here wondering what kind of fireworks she’s looking at. Or with whom.
These thoughts creep their way in, though, and I imagine her at the lake house with someone. I envision them watching purple and yellow explosions in the sky, and I can see her face clearly, imagining the way the embers fall and reflect in her eyes. When I blink, the person that she’s with is me.
It’s exactly the way I want it.
Cline is sitting at our little bar, eating cereal, when I walk through the door, holding my portfolio in one hand and a wilting black tie in the other. He barely looks up before shoveling another spoonful of sugary rainbow-colored mess into his mouth.
“How’d it go?” He asks, milk dribbling down his chin.
“Killed it.” I throw my portfolio onto the counter and slide onto the stool next to him, exhausted. I’ve never been under so much pressure in my entire life, but standing in front of that room full of guys—people who I want to one day call my colleagues, my equals—I was assertive and at ease. I was knowledgeable and confident like that first time I took a bite of Audrey’s Popsicle.
I swear, if God made people to make video games, then He had that in mind when he was putting me together in my ma’s womb.
“They want me to start the internship halfway through the semester. It’s going to kill me, but I have to make it work.”