Page 3 of Faking Forever 1
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Jersey. Compared to Denver, Colorado, though? It’s the bee’s knees. I’m slightly convinced they get away with it because of the legality of marijuana. The likelihood of having free drugs along with cheap living? Not in a billion years or more.
My dad made collecting my belongings seem like the quick-est task known to man. He always hated the hustle and bustle.
Things needed to be fast. Speedy. Before I knew it, we were cruising across the coast in his candy apple red jeep. Miles closer to the place I’ve always belonged. Minutes closer to Josh and Sierra. I was taking each second as an opportunity to reminisce and jog my memory of each detail I’d missed since I left. Nothing was different, yet the feeling of it all was.
Healsohas this way of rushing through everything. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s done incorrectly or without care, but sometimes he forgets little parts. My mom says it’s because he moves quickly and doesn’t care to consider others, butIthink he doesn’t care. Not unless it’s detrimental. That’s why he does things like speeding through the insane, yet very typical, New Jersey traffic as if our livelihood depended on our arrival time. I used to hate it when he drove like that on the road. It was too much, even on an open road. Now, I can’t get enough. He even let me have all my windows down, even though mom complained about her bump- it flying away the entire time. While the ride was usually long, this time, I was home in no time.
My dad grabs my bags, grumbling in the process. I promptly ignore him, assuring I at least help out with grabbing the smaller items.
“It’s so good to have you home. I can’t believe it.” My mom begins to gush, poking and petting me.
“Mom, seriously, calm down,” I smile at her as I put a bag 13
FAKING FOREVER
over my shoulder, “I love you, but at some point, youhaveto get tired of touching me. I’m real. I promise.” I giggle.
She rolls her eyes, kissing my temple with force, bobbing my head a bit.
I couldn’t wait to go to my old room. The rooms in Denver, on campus, were small. Though we had housing similar to apart-ments, it didn’t feel like it. It felt more like I couldn’t breathe.
Plus, my roommate never spoke. She usually communicated through odd stares or barely grunting noises. I’d trade that any day for my awkward, scrawny little brother—any time, any day.
“Look who it is,” Tate says, welcoming me the moment I walk through the front door.
“Miss me?” I boast, smiling smugly.
“Nope, just your food,” he walks over to me, scarfing down a bowl of cereal between his words, “and now that you’re back, I don’t have to live off of bowls of cereal.”
I squint at him, taking in the reminder that he’s still a prepubescent imbecile.
“You’d be lucky if anyone besidesmomwould wanna cook for you, turd.” I watch him examine me, “And I missed you too.” I add, making for dramatic effect.
I feel my mom bump into my backside, urging me to keep moving.
“Okay, guys, it’s only been a few minutes. Can we hold off on the bickering, please, and thank you?” she says, stating more than asking.
Tate gives me a nasty smirk, causing me to make a disgusted look as I step past him.
14
SEASIDE
My bedroom was almost like a picture from an IKEA magazine.
It didn’t feel even close to the person I had become in the last year or so. I say that with grace because I don’t hate the old me. That girl was so naive, and it isn’t enjoyable to think about today. Embarrassing as she might’ve been, I could immediately spot the adolescent taste the minute I walked into the room. It wasn’t because of the pinks and blues splattered about but rather the more minor details.
Little things were standing out, such as bracelets, that Sierra and I would make every winter for the summer. We would dedicate them to what vibe we were going for. Or all the surfboards and penny boards I’d collected over my teen years.
It makes me feel much farther from my youth than ever. To be so far away, I mean. It’s crazy to think that the teen years will make their grand exit in a few months when I turn twenty.
Albeit depressing to think about it all. Except I have more than enough time to cry about the past and little time to soak in the summer. I had one real mission now that I was officially back in Wildwood. That was to link up with the old crew. I was starting with Josh. I figured he’d be in the only place he spends most of his time—his dad’s store. The next step was convincing mydadto let me take the Jeep, even though Ijustgot home. I’ll admit I’m a bit eager to see the look on Josh’s face when he sees me.
Amongst sloppily unpacking, I change into my hot pink, favorite two-piece bathing suit. Still so cute, but barely securing myboobs. I tie it as tight as possible, hoping for extra coverage, but I could feel a specific fear brewing.
That fear is that my boobs are too big for any of my old clothes.
