*Quinn's POV*
I took a deep breath, fidgeting at the front door. What if nobody was home? I lifted my finger to press the doorbell again. Since the last time I'd been here, nothing had changed. Same white door, same fake wishing well that Drew insisted on putting on the lawn, same potted plant, same-
The inside door opened, followed by a screen door suddenly swinging open, smacking me in the arm and knocking me down. "Shit!" I hissed, dropping my bag and grabbing my arm in pain. So much for nobody being home.
"I'm so, so, sorry, are you ok? Wait-Hi, Quinn! It's been forever!" I looked up to see Keaton grinning widely and holding his arms out for a hug. The grin faltered slightly when I stayed on the ground. "Keats, I'm absolutely ecstatic to see you at the moment, I'd be screeching and hugging you back if you hadn't just sent me flying with that door." The screen door that hit smacked against the brick wall and unhinged, falling and skittering down the cement steps leading up to the doorway.
"I'm going to have to pay for that, aren't I?" He said, easily picking both myself and my overnight bag up, and walked into the house. "Jesus Christ." I muttered, clutching onto his tank top for dear life. "When did girl-lifting Keaton happen? Since when are you physically capable of this without having your vertebrae invert or collapse?"
He laughed. "Um, I'm not quite sure what that means, but I was in Italy and bored, lots of people I was were super jacked, so I just kinda hopped onto the bandwagon."
Walking into the house, he continued babbling on and on about his adventures im different continents, until he arrived at the living room. It was absolutely trashed, stuff on the floor, stuff on the sofas, tables-you get the picture. "DREW! Can you guy me a pack of frozen peas? Also, Wes has a visitor!" I heard muttering from upstairs in reply. The sound of some sort of video game stooped, and was replaced with footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Now, why on earth would you need frozen peas?" Asked Drew, shuffling around in the kitchen. "I opened the door too quick and smacked someone in the arm!" The tips of Keaton's ears turned red out of embarrassment.
Drew returned shortly with the pack, and held it to my arm. "Keaton, stop showing off and out the girl down. Glad to see you around again, Q." I thanked Drew and Keaton finally set me on my feet, but still insisted on holding onto my bag since I had to use one hand to keep the frozen peas on the opposite arm. I heard more thumps, coming from nearby. I turned to see Wes barrelling down the stairs.
The silence that followed just amplified the tension in the room. Wes was clean-shaven, but grew his hair back out to his it was when I met him. He looked as nervous as a kid before his first day of kindergarten, but somehow also intensely studying me facial features just like how I was.
"You've got a little bit of shaving cream right there." Before I could stop myself, I wiped the little blob of foam at the corner of his lip away with my thumb.
Well, someone's been using some of that Lush lip scrub because I kind of want to make out with you right now. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it? Yet you still look like how you did way back when I first met you. I think it's the hair." I laughed nervously. He joined in, scratching the back of his ear. "Yeah, probably the hair. Sorry for Keaton smacking you with the door."
No, I'm sorry for setting such high expectations for something I thought I wanted when you were all that I ever needed.
"That's alright. Time doesn't change clumsiness, does it?" I turned, to see that Drew and Keaton had somehow left the room, with my bag on the floor. Wes picked my bag up, dashed to the couch, and tossed everything from the cushions onto a towering pile of stuff on the coffee table. "It's not usually this messy. Sit down, will you?" I gingerly sat down next to him on the couch, swinging my legs. My eyes discreetly flickered to his bandaged hands from the phone breakdown.
