They’re still arguing over semantics as we’re being seated and handed our menus. I’m sitting across from September, who is clearly enjoying the majestic display of manly ego. Her halter top is a bright orange and brown Aztec print, and she’s wearing turquoise jewelry that offsets her tan and dark coloring. I can’t stop staring at how incredibly pretty she is and marveling at how inferior I feel in her presence, yet how much she makes me feel at ease.
Her green eyes meet mine across the table and she grins, all white teeth and freckles. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why? Do I look like I’m not fine? Because, I am.” My fingers are tearing at the edge of the menu, and I can’t get situated in the booth’s seat comfortably to save my life.
Her face turns serious, and she reaches out like she’s going to comfort me, but I retract my hands from her reach. I don’t need attention drawn to what’s going on right now.
“Are you upset about something? Do you need to talk?” she’s asking, and the fact that she looks like she cares, and her voice sounds like it, too, is making tears start to form in my eyes, and I blink furiously to keep them at bay.
“I said I’m fine. Really. I just want to get something to eat. And I don’t exactly know where this tree is that we’re supposed to go to tonight, so that’s stressing me out a little bit. Then, you know, this is your last day with us … but otherwise, I’m fine.” I haven’t noticed that the entire table has gone silent and all eyes are on me. Somehow during my speech, I’ve decimated two napkins and they are laying in a torn-up pile in front of me.
“You seem like you’re handling things like a champ,” Cline says lowly, eyeing the wreckage on the table.
“You think this is stressed?” I ask. “Did you know that an octopus will eat itself when it gets stressed out? That’s not handling things well. That’s overdramatic. I’d say I’m doing just fine.” I nod my head, eyes wide, trying to convince them of my sanity but fear that I’m failing miserably.
Cline narrows his eyes. “Given the fact that there are certain species of male octopus that detach their own dick and throw it at a female so she can get herself pregnant and then grow a new dick afterwards, I don’t think that’s the animal I’d be comparing myself to if I wanted to maintain any level of normalcy.”
Elliot’s laugh cuts through the tension, causing me to flinch. “Wait … The octopus just throws it at her? Like, javelins it through the water?”
Now September is laughing, too, making a motion with her arm like she’s throwing a dick. “Here, take it, you hot piece of eight-armed ass! You’ve earned it. I’ll just grow another one, see?”
Cline leans in close to the side of her face and kisses next to her ear. “You’re so hot. Do you really have to stay here? Can’t you come back with me for the rest of the summer?”
When she turns her head, they are only an inch apart, and I can’t tear my eyes away from them.
“We’re only one state away. I have stuff I have to do here. I’ll visit before I go back to school, I promise,” she says quietly.
“I’ll go wherever you want me to,” he whispers back.
“Oh, gross. Stop. You sound like those crappy love songs on the radio, and you’re making me want to throw up.” I hold my menu up to my face to block them out.
“What do have against love songs on the radio?” Elliot asks to my right as he looks over his menu, not making eye contact.
“Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff. Come on. All of that ‘if the world came crashing down, I would be holding you, watching the sky fall on us, waiting for the earth to explode …’ That’s not even feasible. And let me tell you something, okay? If the world was spinning into another planet and the sky was falling or the core of the earth was about to explode, I’d be running. And you’d better be running, too.” I chance a glance over at Elliot, and he’s grinning down at the menu. “What?” I ask, lowering mine to my lap.
“I mean, I get what you’re saying. I don’t really believe in love songs, either. And that was a great speech you just made. But I think you might change your mind one day.”
“And why is that?” I ask, my heart anxiously skipping a beat in my chest.
His grin grows wider, but he still doesn’t look my way. “Because you said I should be running, too. I was part of the ‘we’ in that scenario you just made up.”
September’s house is bigger than expected, and her family is nowhere to be found.