Page 77 of Old Acquaintances

After he paid for my breakfast, Tucker came to my dorm with me.

“This is nice,” he said, looking around at the blank slate, my belongings in boxes and my clothes in my open suitcase.

“It’s small,” I say.

“You’re going to be busy. It’s not like you’re going to be sitting in here.” He looked at the mound of clothes and sheets on my bed. “That bed is for you and you only, do you hear me?”

“Tucker.”

He smiled. “You want to put the sheets on?”

He helped me set up the bed. He hooked my laptop up to the Wi-Fi. He put my clothes in the closet after I put them on hangers. “I think I’d like to move on to your underwear now,” he said, and I tossed a pillow at his face.

After I had completely unpacked, we sat on my bed. I asked him, “Are you excited about college?”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “I’ve wanted to go to Clemson since Jake left, and I’m excited to finally get out of Pine Place. I’d like to be in a town with more than two gas stations.”

“And a donut shop.”

“Ah.” He smiled, meeting my agreement. “You remember that?”

I bumped his elbow and felt a little embarrassed that I did remember. “You lovedHole In One.It’s all you talked about for months.”

“I mean, of all the places to go out of business, we lose our one donut shop?” He sighed. “What a mystery.” He looked sideways. “If I ever find a blueberry Oreo donut anywhere else, I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

He moved his head around. “Do you feel better now that you’re unpacked?”

“Maybe I will later. I’m just kind of surprised at myself. I thought this would be easier.”

“Why?”

“Because I went away every summer for three years. I’m okay being away from home. I like meeting new people, but…now I don’t get tocome home.This isn’t a four-week camp. This is my life now.”

He said, “Home isn’t going anywhere.”

You are,I thought. I looked at him and muttered, “We’re all moving on and doing new things. Nothing will be like it was.”

“That’s life, Ell.” He twirled the bottom of my hair. I felt the comfort of his fingers on my back. “We can’t stop it, we can only ride the wave. Your family’s not going anywhere. Your home isn’t going anywhere. You still have your sisters and Johnny and -”

He stopped there and I knew why. We weren’tfriends. We went on a kind of date once, we kissed a handful of times, we hung out with our mutual friend, and he drove me around when I needed a ride. We shared a birthday cake.

Not calling him a friend was stupid, but also felt like a distinction. Johnny was my friend. None of the things I did or wanted to do or felt for Tucker I experienced with Johnny.

There wasn’t a word for Tucker.

He finished, “Me.” It came out strong. Purposeful. He reiterated, “You’ll always have me.”

I smiled.

He smiled back.

I wanted him to keep talking, to never stop, and I needed to scoot closer to him. I wanted him to tell me my hands were perfect and wrap me in his long arms. So, I did. “Will you putyour arm around me?”

He watched me inch closer to his side. His throat bobbed. “Like this?” he whispered, curling his left arm over my shoulder.

My head pressed into his shirt, it smelled like his car and his sweatshirts, and I circled my arms around his body. The action incited a tightening from him. His spine, his breath. I read his body language and responded, “I know we don’t hug. You can tell me if you want me to stop.”

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