Something Unexpected

THIRTY: Everything's Different

When I wake the next morning Grant is all I'm thinking of.

We're supposed to be going to the exhibit, but he hasn't called back after whatever happened with his mom. I stare up at the ceiling for a moment and take a couple of deep breaths before texting him.

Good morning. Are we still on for today?

I wait expectantly for a few minutes. It doesn't usually take him long to respond in the morning since he's one of those annoying early birds. But seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours. It's not until around noon when I finally got a response.

I walk away from the edge of the pool in the backyard and sit down in a white beach chair. I pull out my cell and enter the complicated passcode, successfully unlocking it.

Yes

If you still want to go...

A rush of air flows out from my nostrils and mouth, and my muscles relax a bit. But something in my mind tells me that there's something wrong. It sounds like he doesn't want to go to the exhibit he's been looking forward to for so long. I hope that whatever happened last night didn't change his mind, and I don't want him to go only because he will feel guilty for canceling.

I do. Do you want me to meet you there?

A few seconds later there's a response.

No, I can come and get you. How soon will you be ready?

I lean back in the chair and rub the back of my neck as I answer.

I've been ready for a while. Come by whenever you're ready.

The phone buzzes in my palm again and I see the new text pop up.

Ok. Be there in 15

I send a quick text back and reenter the house. It's quiet since Oliver is at the Palace, and Miranda is out at the beach with my sisters and Sarah. I chose to stay behind because I thought that I would've been staring at abstract paintings in some hipster art gallery by now.

But I like the quiet solitude.

As I sit by the living room window sill, I'm able to think calmly and comfortably.

Mr. Harvey, an old, slightly bitter man who lives across the street mows his lawn, and scowls as giggling children run down the sidewalk shooting each other with water guns. A man in blue uniform walks down, placing envelopes and ad papers into the mailboxes that were right behind the white picket fences and gates.

The whole thing seems so...normal. It truly makes me realize how much things have changed. There are no ambulance sirens, loud honking, or heavy bass booming from the speaker of some jerks car. There is no one standing on a porch smoking pot or shooting dice in the alleys. The streets are clean, and with the window cracked I inhale the light fresh air instead of the polluted air of the city.

It's amazing.

My heart starts beating faster as soon as my eyes land on the old blue Jeep that making it's way towards the house. It slows as it rolls over a speed bump, and again as Grant stops in front of Mr. Harvey's house and starts talking to him. I don't know what he says to the man, but it has him laughing.

I smile, and walk over to the black bag that I'm borrowing from Miranda. I don't have a purse of my own and she doesn't think I should be bringing a backpack with me to an art gallery. I double check to make sure I had my portable charger, chapstick, my cell phone, my wallet, and the keys to the house. And by the time I check everything off the list Grant is already walking up the front steps and onto the porch.