The Way I Am Now (The Way I Used to Be)

I could barely sleep last night. I’m sitting with Parker on the roof of our building, drinking coffee, even though I’ve already had way too much caffeine today.

“Your leg bouncing is about to drive me crazy,” Parker tells me. “Do I need to cut you off?” she asks, gesturing to the mug trembling in my hand. I set it down, and the coffee sloshes over the side onto the table. I check my phone. Again.

“She should be here any minute.”

“Can I just ask,” Parker says, peering over the rim of her coffee mug at me, “is this weird nervous thing you’re doing anxiety or excitement?”

I’m not sure what to say because I really can’t distinguish between those two emotions right now.

“Because I’m getting some red flag vibes off you,” Parker continues, but I’m too busy staring at Eden’s last message, and Parker’s voice drifts to the background of my thoughts.

“Josh!” she shouts, snapping her fingers in my face.

“Sorry, what?”

“She’s, like, cool, right?” she finally asks. “I’m gonna be living with this person, and your weirdness is giving me doubts!”

“No, she’s great, really. It’s me. I’m just not . . .”

“Cool?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Funny.” I force a smile. “No, it’s just that we kinda left things unclear. About what we are. The lines between friendship and something more are just very blurred right now, and I don’t know what to expect.”

“Well, what do you want it to be?”

I shrug, wishing I could say with certainty that friendship would be enough. “I mean, I’ll take whatever she gives me.”

“Great, that sounds healthy. No drama there at all.”

“Okay, obviously, I want more.”

She just keeps staring at me, a smirk stretching across her face. “You” is all she says.

“Me, what?”

“You . . .” She stands up and points her finger at me. “Better not cause drama with my roommate. Because then that means there’s drama with me.” Now she points at herself. “And I don’t do drama.”

“I don’t either.”

“Uh-huh.” She does not sound convinced.

My phone dings. “She’s here.”

I jog down the first flight of stairs, Parker calling behind me, “Run, Josh-wah, run!” Quoting the movie we watched in our American History course, where we were randomly paired to work on a presentation together. It took me a full year before I understood that she didn’t actually hate me. She likes to tease and poke and jab.

And as I knock on my door, stick my head in—“D, she’s here!”—I wonder if I’ve made the best call in setting her up with Parker. Underneath, I know she’s a nice person, but she can have such a gruff exterior sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Dominic yells as I close the door.

I stop and wait for Parker to catch up.

“What?” she says.

“It’s just—you’re gonna be nice to her, right?” I try to ask as gently as possible.

“I’m always nice, you dick.”

“Okay, but she’s got a lot going on and—”

“Most girls do,” she says, cutting me off. “Josh, listen. I can read between the lines. I get it. I’ll be nice to her.” And for the first time maybe ever, there’s no hint of sarcasm in her voice, no shadow of a grin on her face. “Just don’t try to control so much.”

“All right,” Dominic says, appearing in the hallway between us, clapping his hands. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” I say—to both of them.

I walk down the next flight of stairs, forcing a slower pace, because Parker’s right, I can’t try to control what happens next. Outside, I see Eden’s brother’s car parked on the street in front of our building; it’s easy to spot, overflowing with a mattress strapped to the top of the car. But I don’t see Eden. I bend down to look through the passenger-side window. Her phone’s sitting there in the cupholder, the lamp from her bedroom sticking out of the top of a bag on the floor.

“Relax,” Parker sings from behind me. “Besides, I think that’s her over there, isn’t it?”

I follow the direction Parker is looking, across the street, at a girl standing at the crosswalk. She has her hair pulled back and is wearing sunglasses, the strap of her bag pulled across her body, and she’s carrying a tray of drinks from the café on the corner. At first I don’t recognize her. I don’t know why exactly. I guess I was expecting her to seem out of place here, expecting to have to help her get acclimated, protect her, even. But she already looks like she belongs, like she’s always been here. The traffic light changes, and she starts walking toward us, waving when she spots me.

“Hi!” she says as she approaches us. “I come bearing frozen cappuccinos.”

Parker steps forward and says, “Oh, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, I can tell already.”

“You must be Parker,” Eden says, raising her sunglasses with her free hand.

“And you must be Eden.” Parker moves in with open arms but stops. “Are you a hugger?”

“Um, sure,” Eden says, her eyes flashing to mine just for a moment. “Yeah.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Parker says, giving Eden a hug—something I’ve never seen Parker do with anyone before. “Welcome to the building, to Tuck Hill, you’re gonna like it here, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Eden says. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Hello again, dear,” Dominic adds, not even hinting at any of his many misgivings he hasn’t been shy about sharing with me, as he pulls Eden into a brief one-armed hug. “I’ll gladly take one of those off your hands.”

“Good to see you again,” she tells him as she hands him one of the drinks she’s carrying, giving one to Parker as well.

And then her eyes meet mine. She smiles so brightly, I literally cannot find any words to say except “Hey, you.”

We step toward each other on the sidewalk, and as I put my arms around her, Parker takes the drink tray from Eden. And now I feel both her hands pressed against my back, pulling me in. I allow myself to savor it for a moment, but because I would stay like this all day if we could, I let go first.