Jema

11. The Silent Treatment

I'm scrambling to get some clothes on when we hear a knock at the door. Of course Dennis and Corey didn't wake me up in time. There are probably lines from the sheets imprinted on my face right now, and my hair looks like I rolled around on the floor head first. No biggie. Toby's getting married anyway.

I'm so tempted to wear my pajamas.

Toby walks in just as I pull my jeans up to my waist. Instantly, I look behind him for his fiancée, but she's nowhere to be found. He has a big, stupid smile on his face. Gosh, I missed that dumb smile.

He gives Corey a pat on the back before drawing him into a hug, and I just stand in the corner. Why didn't he just tell me? I mean, I know we aren't dating (never dated) but still. Common courtesy: tell the guy you made out with for three years that you're getting married to Mini Dolly Parton.

"Hey, Germ," Toby says nicely. I hug him anyway, inhaling the scent that has always been him, even when he was thirteen. "How are you?"

"Great," comes my monotone reply. My body goes against me and I end up nuzzling my head against his shoulder. "You?"

"Good." He lets me go so he can sit on the bed. "My god, Dennis. You look twelve feet tall," Toby chuckles. Dennis shrugs. "How tall are you now?"

"5'11", I think," Dennis chuckles. Liar. He's only 5'10". I keep my thoughts to myself anyway, letting them talk about how different everyone looks since two years ago. The only thing different about Toby is the ring on his girlfriend's finger and the happiness drained from his eyes. No. Not drained. Taken. Someone took his happiness; sucked it up through a straw. Maybe it wasn't Grace. But it's gone now, and god knows if he'll ever get it back.

Not like I can help him. I'm not his fiancé.

"So what's it like in Colorado? Lot of weed?" Toby asks.

"We grow marijuana in our back yard," I respond instantly, keeping my face deadpan and voice without fluctuation. Three pairs of eyes stare me down, wondering exactly where I'm going with this. "Ha. Joking."

Corey interrupts the awkward silence. "It's easier to get, I suppose. Kids in Henning don't do anything but drink though."

Toby nods generically before replying. It's like he forgot how to talk to us. "I stopped drinking a year ago."

I remember the first time both Toby and I drank together. We'd gone to Grace's cousin's house for a party (this was before they were dating), and the two of us were too chicken to take shots. We were too chicken to do anything, really, and nobody paid attention to us. Not to mention the fact that at thirteen years old, I looked about eight.

Toby and I escaped the party around 11 o'clock or so and went down to the park. Little did I know, he'd taken two bottles of vodka from the cabinet.

There was a lot of wincing at the taste, a lot of giggling at each other, a lot of making out afterward. A lot of 'first time' things we did... I think that was the best night I ever had with him. Memories like that are the reason his engagement to Grace is such bullshit.

I'm disconnected from the conversation, I don't even realize that Dennis has been looking through my bag.
"What the fuck, Dennis?"

"I'm looking for gum or mints. You always have some."

I snatch the bag away from him, then quickly realize I'm causing more of a scene than I need to. Both Toby and Corey are staring at me now. "Where are we eating?" I grumble.

"Well..." Toby looks around as if he's silently asking for approval before he answers. "We always liked that little Mexican restaurant close to the old elementary school. It's about twenty minutes away from here." Dennis perks up at the sound of Mexican food.