The Summer They Really Lived

Experiences

Charlie

I knew I shouldn't have asked. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to snatch them out of the air and shove them away for good. Hurt flashes across Delilah's face like it does every time anyone mentions her bio family. She doesn't look up but the pain is obvious; shoulders hunching in, arms drawing tight, hand working quickly, long dark hair falling over her face. All the little things she never notices doing reveal how touchy the subject actually is. She wears her heart on her sleeve, whether she knows it or not.

It takes a moment of internal debating before I reach my hand out and lightly touch her shoulder. She stops writing viciously hard and fast and gives a soft sigh, one I wouldn't have noticed unless I was expecting it. I opt to go for a silent apology, dragging my hand down her shoulder and onto the small of her back, slowly pulling her into a hug. She drops her pencil but doesn't hug back.

"De?" Still no answer. "You know I'm sorry, right? I knew I shouldn't have asked."

She shoves me away slightly, retrieving her pencil and leaning back to direct her eyes towards the ceiling. "I know," she says quietly, an over the top smile making itself at home on her face. "Just leave it, it's fine."

Is it really though? That's what I want to ask. I want to make her look at me and tell me how she's feeling, grab her shoulders and haul her up and snap at her to stop pretending. But I don't, I wouldn't. She's never been one to share and that's not going to change at a moment's notice.

I decide to change the subject. "What have you written so far?"

"Enough." She leans forward again and grabs the paper, laying to over my head. "See for yourself."

I grab the falling paper off my head and use it to lightly slap Delilah on the thigh before going over it. The writing is sloppy and rushed but still handwriting that's unmistakably Delilah. It's littered with stereotypical things like 'travel the world' and 'meet Tom Cruise' in the beginning four or five but most of them are, thankfully, unique to her and things that can actually be accomplished. Things that I expected and that only she and I would understand:

7. Save the forest from demolition

8. Renovate the train station. But not so much where people would actually want to go back and use it

9. Run away to Nevada

10. Break the light on life's porch

11. Finish my photo collage

12. Convince Charlie to go swimming in the lake with me

13. Be on top of the world

14. Say goodbye. I want my second chance

15. Line the tracks with 100 pennies

And the list goes on and on and on. Some of the things she lists I can't believe she even remembers from our childhood. I shouldn't even make a list, I realize as I read through. They'd practically be the same anyways. "Wow," I whisper. "You really went all out."

She laughs and grabs the paper back, continuing to add a couple more. "You're goddamn right. If we're gonna do this, we have to do it right and that means fitting in everything with no regrets."

"You sure did a good job." I chuckle to myself, thinking again of the tenth goal. "And hey, if you're going to break any lights-"

She throws her head back and laughs again. "You remembered!"

"I'm offended, De," I joke. "Of course, I remember. How does it go again?"

"No!" she moans, lightly slapping my shoulder and not really trying to stop me. "Don't actually bring that up!"