Page 29 of Resurrection
I kick at a rock by my foot, not sure where to look or what to say. "Would you do it differently?"
"Don’t know. What if I made other choices and I didn’t have Oasis anymore?"
"You always did want to own your own restaurant."
"Yeah. And you always wanted to be in a band and make tons of money."
"I wasn’t good at anything else. Just riffs and solos."
Again, she doesn’t reply, as if she’s agreeing with me.
"What are you doing back here, Naomi?" I ask. "You could be anywhere."
"Why would I be anywhere?" The corner of her mouth quirks up just a hint. "My mom wanted me closer, you know, with dad being so sick these past few years. It’s easier to breathe at home too. It’s where I grew up and it’s where I’ll die. It’s where our family belongs."
The answer feels unfinished, like there’s more she’s not saying. But I understand what she means. It’s not just a hometown for her. It’s where her people belong, whatever is left of them, anyway. It’s the kind of belonging that’s rooted in the soil and the air, woven into the fabric of reality and history. But I don’t have the right to comment on that. Instead, I say, "I’d feel better if you were away from Lachlan Pratt."
"He’s just a big baby. You need to stop underestimating me, Ty."
"He always had a thing for you. An unhealthy obsession."
"You had an unhealthy obsession with me too," she jabs back.
"Guilty," I admit. "But we both know Pratt isn’t like me. Remember how he bullied that skinny kid throughout high school?"
"Decker?"
"Yes. That’s right. Dude always had a black eye or bruises on his arms."
"Poor kid."
"Is he still around?"
"To be honest, I’m not sure." Naomi shrugs. "I don’t think he left town. But he hasn’t been at any of the reunion dinners."
"Well, I haven’t been at any of them either."
"Maybe you should come to the one this summer."
"Is this something that you guys do every year?" I laugh at the notion. "Isn’t that exhausting?"
"It’s not a big thing. Besides, with Brittney being a vice principal, it’s fairly easy. No need to jump through hoops to get the gym to ourselves once a year."
"Ah, you two still tight?"
"Not as much as before, but we still talk often."
"Good." I try to keep the conversation light. "Your brother thinks I’m nothing but trouble."
"He’s not the only one."
I wince, a little too on the nose. "Harsh."
"You always were a drama queen," she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Don’t deny it."
We sit there for a beat, the distance between us full of things neither of us can say because it doesn’t feel like the right time.
Then I speak up, "I am sorry for behaving like an entitled asshole. I lost my cool when I saw you and Pratt… I should have trusted you to fix it without it getting messy."
