Restoring Eternity

Chapter 4

After having my epiphany, I got in the driver’s seat. I’d never been behind the wheel of a fucking Camaro before, so I drove like the majestic person I am. I pulled in the driveway and Austin unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car within ten seconds. He got on his knees and threw his hands in the air, yelling, “Land! Sweet, sweet land!”

            “You are so dramatic,” I said, getting out and rolling my eyes playfully.

            “And you,” he panted, “are never driving my Lucy ever fucking again.”

            “Who not?” I whined, pouting. “I did pretty good!”

            “You ran three stop signs and hit a curb,” Austin said, pointing to the dent in the bumper.

            “Oops,” I said. “Well, at least you’re still alive.”

            “Barely,” he said, and I laughed. He helped me get my bags out of the car and I unlocked the door to my house.

            I lived in a secluded neighborhood with lots of space. Sidewalks for running, a park, private ponds and gardens, it was beautiful. Riley and I had a spacious, modern three-bedroom-house. Austin walked in, gawking at our feather chandelier that touched the top of his head when he walked under it. The living room was bright yellow with hundreds of pictures of art, family, and famous people lining it. Ri had every game console imaginable, from Sega to PlayStation 4. Our kitchen was royal blue with bright green accents. The dining room was the same color.

            “Your place is fucking rad,” Austin said, spinning around to get everything in view at once. I dropped my bags on the mahogany sofa and grinned.

            “Riley does all the decorating.” I said. Austin nodded. “Okay, first things first. I’m gonna cook for you,” I said.

            “If you can’t drive worth shit, then you probably can’t cook worth shit either,” Austin scoffed, cautiously following me into the kitchen.

            “I think I’m pretty good,” I said.

            “What are you making?” he asked, pulling a chair over and sitting down.

            “Oh, no,” I said. “Stand up. You’re helping me.” Despite his protests, I dragged the chair back in the dining room.

            “Look in the fridge and get me the pumpkin,” I ordered.

                                                                        ~ ~ ~

Austin’s POV

Damn, this girl is bossy. I can’t believe I’m taking orders from this tiny girl. Definitely not used to being bossed around by a teenager. I like it though. I love the way Drew cooks. She’s so focused. I couldn’t even chop the leaf thingies right, but the knife blade was a silver blur when she took control.

            “Coriander please.”

            “What’s that again?”

            “The leaves.”

            “But there’s two kinds of leaves, Drew.”

            “The fucking- never mind, I’ll get it.” All the ingredients were behind me, so she had to press her front to my front to get what she wanted. I swear all my breath was stolen from me.

            Drew didn’t seem to notice, though. She was so busy adding just the right amount of Moroccan seasoning to whatever she was making. Next she was focused on cutting the pumpkin into tiny cubes.

Her eyes never blinked once and she stayed bent over, her concentration increasing. My eyes started to wander down her short, slender body. They stopped just where her shirt stopped. I squinted. On her smooth, tan skin, I could make out small, red, angry symmetrical slashes a little bit higher than her waist. When she stood up, her shirt covered them again.

She smiled, throwing the pumpkin cubes into the bowl and taking a pot off the stove that I hadn’t even noticed was there.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just focus too much in the kitchen sometimes.”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head. “you’re fine. I like watching you.” She blushed and giggled and something in my heart just burst.

“Go sit down,” she said, ushering me to the living room. “I’ll fix the food.” I saw another glimpse of her cuts as she ran off.

I looked around the living room at all the pictures. I’d come to the conclusion that Drew and her friend Riley were roommates, because all I saw was pictures of him and his family. I saw other pictures too, of nature and models, but they were all signed Riley Graham.

“Ri’s a photographer,” Drew said proudly, looking at all the pictures. She’d set down the plates and bowls of food and plopped by me on the couch. “He loves taking pictures of his family the most.”

“What about your family?” I heard myself ask.

I saw something flicker in her eyes, but I didn’t know what it was.

“They’re not very photogenic,” she said flatly, then turned her attention to the food, trying to fix things even more perfect then they already are.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked. Everything looked awesome- the colors of the food were all matchy. I just didn’t know if I would be able to keep it down.

“Roasted pumpkin and quinoa salad and sweet potato bisque with baba ganoush,” Drew said, loading some from each onto my spoon.

“What the hell is baba ganou- ohh shit this is good!” The best thing I’ve ever tasted. The sweetness of the pumpkin and the hot Moroccan spices mixed with the creamy stuff and the sweet potatoes was the best thing ever.

“I told you,” she said, grinning cheekily. “I’m glad you like it.” She shoveled her food down as well and managed to finish faster than I did. This girl can eat.

Drew’s phone beeped, and she took it out of her bra to look at it, frowning once she read the message. She got an incoming call soon after.

“What?” she said coldly into the phone. Ouch. “Scott, I told you not to call me anymore,” she hissed, glancing at me and then getting up and going into the kitchen. “No…just stop, please. No, nothing’s there anymore. There was never anything there. Can you just leave me alone? You’re…you’re out? Since when? Fuck. Scott I swear to god if you go anywhere near me or Riley or my fucking family I’ll…I’ll... just stop calling me!” She hung up her phone and slammed it on the kitchen counter, putting her head in her hands.

I cautiously came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. To my surprised, she turned to me and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I held her while she silently cried, rubbing my hand up and down her soft hair.

After a while she pulled away, not looking at me.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” I said, “but I’d like to know.”

Drew shook her head. “It’s nothing.” I laughed.

            “I know you’re lying,” I said. “Come on, tell me.”

I followed her back to the living room and we sat down together.

            “His name is Scott,” she said after some hesitation.