Peaked in High School

Envy

The drive to Everett's house from the diner takes about twenty minutes. Beau notices that houses in this town are very far apart from each other which is very different from the suburban neighborhood layout that he and Everett grew up with.

A white country-style house with a wrap-around front porch eventually appears in the distance. Shaking his head in disbelief, Beau internally rolls his eyes at the size of the building. He can't believe people his age are able to afford this shit—surely his parents helped him pay for it?

Everett parks in the garage and leads him through the doors and up the basement stairs to his kitchen.

"Well.... This is it," Everett awkwardly gestures to the house around him. Beau tries to hold back a scoff at the guy trying to downplay the impressive house. "Did your parents help you score this place?" He can't help running his mouth to his host.

"No. My wife and I both got pretty decent jobs after college and were able to take out a loan for it." Everett's cheeks are dusted pink as he responds.

Both of Beau's eyebrows raise at this information. "Wife?" He repeats in a astonished tone.

Everett looks anxious as he brings a hand up to tug at his ear—it's probably a nervous tic. "Yeah. My wife, Charlotte, and I live here. Um—so you can follow me upstairs and I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Still dumbfounded from the information that he just received, Beau takes a second before following him up the stairs. Scanning the rooms and walls that they pass, he notices picture frames filled with images of Everett and his supposed 'wife' along with what must be their friends and family. Beau knows that a lot of people his age are beginning to settle down and get married, but he never thought that nerdy little Everett Fowler would be part of that demographic.

He tries to go back in his cobweb-filled memories from high school to see if he can remember Everett being in a relationship during that time. When he comes up blank, he decides to question him on this progression.

"So.... How did you meet the wifey?"

They enter the first room on the left side of the hallway on the second floor. It's decorated with a white and blue floral pattern that reminds him of a grandmother. There's lace trimming on a lot of the pillows, blankets and the curtains as well.

Everett briefly disappears into the connected bathroom, but soon returns to grab extra blankets and a towel out of the closet and places them on the bed as he replies. "We met our second year of college."

Noticing that he doesn't seem willing to expand on this information, Beau asks a follow up question. "Is she home right now?" He looks around as if Charlotte would suddenly materialize in the suffocatingly floral, geriatric-themed room.

"She's in Boston visiting her parents. Okay—I got some blankets and a towel for you here. The bathroom is through that door. I'm gonna go to bed, but we can talk more tomorrow about where you want to go and how we'll get you there. Goodnight!"

If Beau hadn't seen the pictures of Charlotte, he wouldn't believe that Everett was actually married with how dismissive he's being of Beau's questions about her. He watches the shorter man quickly exit after his scrambled response. Picking up the towel on his bed, he heads to the bathroom connected to the guest bedroom.

Showering with brand name products instead of the miscellaneous stuff given to him by motels feels life-changing. He shampoos and conditions his hair and then scrubs his body three times just because he can.

Stepping out of the shower, he wraps his towel around his waist and looks at his reflection in the foggy mirror. Despite how clean he feels, he still looks dirty. His hair is longer than he'd like it to be and he wishes he had a razor to shave his skeezy-looking facial hair.

An unopened box with a toothbrush inside sits on the counter along with a travel-sized toothpaste next to the sink. Similar to his shower, Beau brushes his teeth three times just because he can. He has a toothbrush in his backpack, but it should've been replaced an embarrassingly long time ago.

Beau changes into a pair of boxers and slips under the flowery covers of the, admittedly nice-smelling, bed. He makes a mental note to ask Everett if he can do some laundry before he is kicked out tomorrow.

He tries to fall asleep, but he can't stop replaying everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours. The Greyhound bus, being thrown out of the deli, getting drunk at the bar, reuniting with his childhood neighbor, getting saved by his childhood neighbor, eating his first real meal in a long time with his childhood neighbor and now.... Staying in his childhood neighbor's house that he apparently owns with his wife.

How can such a timid, skittish guy be this successful in life?

It makes no sense to Beau. Everett barely had any friends in high school and never understood social cues. Like when Beau would openly make fun of him in front of a crowd of people, but the reserved boy would still give him polite smiles and continue to try to make conversation when they crossed paths. Now he has a degree, a job, a house and a wife?

Beau rolls onto his stomach in an attempt to get comfortable and fall asleep sooner, but he can't stop thinking about Everett. Sure, he isn't quite as scrawny as he was in high school. He filled out a bit more from what Beau can tell, but he's still short standing no taller than 5' 8" at most. There's also the fact that he doesn't wear those frameless glasses anymore and seems to know how to dress in something other than skinny jeans and nerdy graphic tees. Additionally, he let his dirty blonde curls grow out slightly rather than sticking with the short buzz cut.

God, he needs to stop analyzing Everett's appearance.

Eventually—after a lot of tossing and turning—Beau falls asleep.