Page 26 of Between Here and There

JOSHUA (ME): I'll be out in 2 mins.

I don’t know why the thought of walking excites me, but I put on a shirt and change into gym shorts, slip on my shoes, and head out the door. When I see Emily step out of their house, she spots me instantly and flashes a smile. The kind that lights up her whole face and does something to my chest I can’t quite explain. Suddenly, being awake doesn’t seem so bad.

“Miss me already?” I say, trying to keep it cool.

She rolls her eyes as usual, but she says, “Honestly? Yeah.” I look at her in obvious shock, but she simply just chuckles as she adds, “Apparently you’re the only one I don’t have to lie to. I needed a reset.”

She stretches her arms and proceeds to walk forward. She’s wearing a tank top and her hair is up in a bun. I can’t help but comment on the rose tattoo peeking from her back. “Nice tattoo.”

She whirls around to face me. “Thanks, it used to only be the rose. I got it with the girls,” she says. “When I got to New York, I had the thorns added. Thought it gave it more meaning. Sometimes I regret it, though, it feels a bit tacky now.” She lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“No, it’s not,” I say. And before I can stop myself, I add, “It’s beautiful.”

Her eyes flick to mine, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. I should really stop voicing my obvious physical attraction to her. In no way will this benefit us both. My beliefs haven’t changed and she just got out of a serious relationship. Oh, and we’re just faking it.

Emily smirks. “Of course you think that, you’re a human coloring book,” she says, gesturing to my arm. I laugh at her statement and continue to walk beside her.

I don’t know where we’re going, but this moment reminds me of that time we went on a mystery date in Manhattan. The streets couldn’t be more different. New York is noisy and chaotic, even at two in the morning. Here, it’s quiet. The only things we hear are the rustling of the trees and the hum of insects at night. However different the places are, the feeling is all the same. It’s easy, effortless. Like nothing else exists outside of this.

And as if she’s reading my thoughts, Emily says, “It’s like that night in New York all over again.” She looks ahead, her eyes staring at the neon sign from a distance. It looks like we’re headed to Lily’s—our neighborhood convenience store and hangout spot that’s open 24/7.

“Yeah. And again, we’re escaping reality. A reality that we created, by the way,” I say with a chuckle.

“Looks like we’re back to being…” Emily trails off.

“Whatever this is?” I finish for her.

“Yeah. Exactly,” Emily smiles at me. “Thanks for being my escape person.”

“Always a pleasure,” I say.

The bell jingles as we enter inside, the sound almost nostalgic. The store is as empty as the streets outside, not that I expected any company at this hour. I look around, taking in the scene. It’s been years since I saw this place last, but it’s as if nothing has changed much, except for the flatscreen TV that used to be a large box type. Nostalgia is making its way deeper into me as I observe the worn-out linoleum floors, the rows of shelves filled with snacks from our childhood, and even the familiarity of the smell. It smells like old books and coffee and instant ramen combined. I know it doesn’t sound like it smells good, but it does. It’s that Lily’s scent.

I glance over to Emily to see her do the same. Her eyes are sweeping all over the place as if she’s trying to memorize every detail. The aisles line up on the right side of the store, and the left side is a lounge filled with mismatched furniture that is either faded or scratched up.

Normally, there’d be a cashier here, but instead, there’s just an honesty box on the counter, a handwritten sign taped above it: ‘Take what you need. Pay what you can.’ Manang Linda, the store owner, never did care much about profit. She probably hasn’t changed her system in years, and I bet she wouldn’t mind if we took a soda or two without paying. Not that we’d do that, of course, but it’s the beauty of small villages—everyone trusts everyone.

“Do you want some wafer sticks?” Emily asks as she walks toward the aisles, already on her way to the wafer sticks.

“DoIwant them or doyouwant them?” I chuckle as I drop money in the honesty box. “I’m in the mood for something salty. Maybe some corn chips.”

I remember being a teenager here. I’d hang out here with Ryan since he’s the only one close to my age. I’d bring over some friends from school and we’d just chill.

This was also where I had my firstrealdates. Looking back, it’s funny how grand those dates felt at the time—sipping sodas and eating chips like it was the most romantic setup in the world. I remember one date in particular. I was sixteen, and Emily and Bon were just eleven. They showed up out of nowhere, both of them with scraped knees from some biking adventure gone wrong. My date ended early because I had to clean them up and make sure they were okay. I didn’t even mind. It felt like second nature to protect them and watch out for them.

Emily’s presence right now reminds me of those simpler times. When life was all wafer sticks and scraped knees.

As we get snacks and cold drinks from the fridge, we settle onto the couch. I take a sip of my beer and glance at Emily. She’s poking a straw through her choice of beverage: chocolate milk.

“I’ve had enough wine tonight, thank you very much.” She takes a sip.

“Then how come you’re not knocked out like everyone else? And don’t tell me it’s jet lag,” I say.

“Okay, fine. I know my alcohol limit. And I never really drink too much with them,” she admits. “Or anyone, really.” She reaches out toward the other couch and grabs a pillow as she crosses her legs comfortably.

“Why?” I ask. I know it’s none of my business how Emily takes her alcohol, but I know it’s not just about that.

Emily pauses for a while, as if contemplating how to tell me. “Because someone has to stay sober to keep everyone in check,” she says with a laugh. “Bon vomits like a madman. Haley sings more often than she does on stage. And Kate… clings to whoever’s closest. Who will take care of them?” She jokingly points and wiggles both her thumbs to herself.

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