It was a short walk to the poor neighborhood across Main Street. Trent was waiting for me when I reached his old bungalow house. He kicked the screen door open and shot me a knowing glance as I walked up the gravel path. A stray tabby cat crossed in front of me, starring up at me with nervous eyes.
“Just couldn't stay away?” he asked with a charming smirk. I wanted to tell him how little he meant to me—to wipe that smirk right off his face—but I shrugged and moved past him through the doorway. The scent of mildew hit me right away.
“Want to smoke?” he asked, already heading to find his stash.
“I'm fine. Let's just go to your room. I have to be back before my dad gets home from practice. He wants to eat dinner as a family.”
My dad wouldn’t care if I was late, but the excuse would justify my quick departure.
I dropped my backpack in the front entry and followed him to his room, trying to ignore the sadness that emanated from his quiet house. I knew Trent's world was marred with memories just as terrible as mine. He never talked about his dad, but everyone gossips in a small town, and no one can resist the juicy details of a parent’s early departure. I knew that better than anyone.
We moved through his dark house until we reached his room. The stench of ancient smoke was impossible to miss. There were yellow stains across the carpet of indiscernible origins and posters covering every available surface of his walls. When I reached his bed, I kicked off my shoes and fell back onto the worn sheets. Trent followed me into his room and sat at his desk to light up.
If I held my breath, I could pretend his sheets smelled like the shower gel that had appeared in our upstairs bathroom upon Chase's arrival. I'd used it that morning on a whim, wanting to see if his scent could rub off on me.
It wasn't the sex that kept me going back to guys like Trent; that part wasn’t even that great. It was afterward, when we lay in bed. For a few minutes I pretended that I was a girl that was loved and could love. I pretended that instead of another sad kid—a nameless guy—they were my soulmate, a boy I'd known my whole life.
I tried to push the sadness away. I didn't know why it was hitting me there of all places. I was supposed to be there to run from my memories, but even when I closed my eyes and fisted Trent's sheets between my fingers, I had the sudden urge to scream.
Shit.
I had to get out.
I pushed off his bed and went to grab my shoes.
“Where are you going?” he asked, spinning in his desk chair, not bothering to pause rolling his joint.
“Sorry, I totally spaced. My dad is getting home early today. I'll see you at school,” I stammered before leaving his room. I retrieved my backpack from the entry, forced my Converse on, and pushed through the screen door.
The smell of spring hit me again and I squeezed my eyes closed. In late January, the air was crisp and clean. None of the humid heat that swept in during the summer had made an appearance yet. I longed for that humidity. I longed for the stifling heat. It meant I had three whole seasons to prepare myself before spring came again.
…
When I got home, I leaned back on the dead grass in my backyard, crossed my legs, and stared out at the remnants of the garden positioned behind our small cottage house. My dad had already fixed up the flowerbeds. The wood was mismatched, new and old, fresh and worn. There were eight beds in total and if I planned them out right, I could fill every last inch of them with seeds.
I scribbled down combinations in my journal, each one specifically chosen for companion growing. Tansy and roses grow well together because tansy attracts ladybugs and ladybugs eat aphids before they can harm the roses. Onions grown near carrots usually keep away the rust flies and broccoli paired with cucumbers helps to repel beetles. There were more combinations, hundreds and hundreds, but my mom had only taught me a few before she’d left.
Harvey lay sprawled in the grass beside me, content to bask in the late evening sun as I patted his belly. I was still trying to recall more planting combinations when a shadow fell over my notebook. I glanced up to find Chase standing there, his blond hair damp with sweat. Unless I could find planting techniques tattooed across his arms, there was no reason to keep staring at him, but I hadn’t seen his body up close in years. He hardly looked like the boy I’d grown up with. That kid had been scrawny and tall. The Chase standing beside me was suddenly a man.
“What are you two doing?” he asked, jarring me out of my intense staring contest with his biceps. When I scanned up to his face, he was wearing a playful smile and the glint in his hazel eyes told me he knew exactly what I'd been doing.
“Planning out my beds,” I answered simply before staring back down at my notebook.
He bent to greet Harvey and the dog went crazy, licking and wagging his tail now that his best friend was home.
“I’m pretty good with a shovel if you need any help.”
I bit down on my lip, wondering if I'd have to take him up on his offer.
“Harvey’s pretty good at digging holes too,” he added.