Me & Mine

3. Tender is the Night

The rest of the school day flies by without much commotion. The Unholy Trinity pretty much keep to themselves and haven't given me a solid reason to hate them yet. Cammie didn't come looking for round three and at the end of sixth period Harley, Richie and Ann are sure to give me their phone numbers before heading off to home.

I climb into Amory's pickup and he starts the engine. "That was an eventful first day," he sighs. I smirk and click on my seatbelt. "It sure was."

We live a good ten minutes drive from Ridgeview High, in a suburban neighborhood in the northern part of town. It's a well respected area, but it was the house itself that led Amory and me to decide on this spot. Amory parks his pickup on the driveway and without saying much else we climb the steps leading up to the porch. Amory had put a bench there, with pillows and blankets, and a small table to put our drinks on. It's a cozy spot for warm summer evenings.

The house is big, with sand colored bricks covering much of the exterior, and large windows letting in the last rays of today's sunlight. I make my way to the fridge and pour myself a coke. "Want anything?" I yell, my voice echoing through the house. We hadn't had much time yet to decorate the place. Amory sticks his head around the corner. "Coke, please," he says, already disappearing again, "be right down."

I pour him a coke too and put the bottle back in the fridge, mindlessly gazing through our options for tonight's dinner. Nothing seems particularly appetizing, and besides, we have an unspoken rule that the first day of school equals junk food. Sitting on one of the bar stools I sift through the many menus we had collected over the past week. My head starts to pound and I am suddenly aware of how tired I feel. All beginnings are difficult, I remind myself, there's nothing wrong with feeling tired after a day of making new friends and arch nemeses. I massage my temples and take a deep breath. The stairs squeak under Amory's footsteps. It is way too quiet in this house if I'm able to hear that from the kitchen. "Pizza?" I ask loudly. Amory jumps on the kitchen counter and takes his coke. "You have read my mind, little sis."

I smile and find the local pizzaria from the pile of takeout menus.

An hour later we eat our pizzas in the living room, boxes on our laps and some reality TV show raging on in the background. Amory pokes my knee. "Want to go a round later?" I sigh and shake my head. "Sorry," I say, "I am just really tired."

Amory shrugs and devours another slice of pizza. "That's okay," he says between bites, "after dinner we'll read a bit and then you should call it a night."

I nod. I was so ready to call it a night. My eyes were feeling heavier and heavier and I was constantly yawning. I actually haven't been this tired in a long while, perhaps it had something to do with the 'newness' of it all. Or perhaps I feel this knackered because I haven't let myself stand still for the longest time , and now, for some reason, I feel like I can finally stop running. Amory notices and strokes my forehead. "You like it here, huh?"

I close my eyes and let my head fall back. "Yeah," I whisper, "I really do."

"Me too."

After dinner Amory takes his copy of The Great Gatsby out of his bag and strokes the cover. I bring us blankets and nestle up against his shoulder. "How many times have you read this to me already?" I ask, nodding to the visibly used book, "like, six times or so?"

Amory chuckles and opens the novel. "Must be," he says, "ready for a seventh rendition of this American classic?"

I nod and close my eyes. Amory loves literature. I love hearing him read literature. He clears his throat. "Chapter one," he uses his reading voice, which is low and soft and pleasant, "In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.' He didn't say any more, but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that."