The Rejection (NEW VERSION)

08 | Summer Heat

John Mayer — I Don't Trust Myself

eight

Even at nine in the morning, the mid-July sun was melting everything it touched. I stood on the front porch, sipping my coffee until I needed the air conditioning again. I wiped my forehead dry as soon as I closed the front door and walked into the kitchen. Dad had left for work at five that morning and Mom was cutting strawberries next to the sink for her famous strawberry rhubarb pie for some party at the Bradley's that night. I wasn't sure what was going on, honestly.

                It had been a week since I came back. Mom and I had gone shopping a couple times for miscellaneous things that I needed, and Dad had been helping me with my shifting issues, but they didn't seem to be helping. I hadn't been able to shift without searing pain and still had yet to shift completely; Patricia, the pack doctor, said I just needed to give it time. Between that and the weird emotions I had felt around Jason that first night, my brain felt like mush. He was all I could think about despite my determination to hate him. He consumed nearly every thought and I hadn't even heard or talked to him since.

"You know, I was thinking," Mom said without even looking at me, snapping me out of my reverie. "Why don't you go over and see Thalia and Victor? Their new house is just down the road, close to the Bradley's, but they just had a new pool installed. Bet that water feels great in this damn heat. My poor flowers are frying."

"She said something about a pool when I was first talking to her, but I didn't think much about it," I yawned. I reached over and picked up my new phone. It was much nicer than the one I was used to, but much more complicated. I still wasn't sure how to close my applications. I pulled up my texts with Thalia from yesterday, which weren't many, and started an audio call. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey! Hold on my–oh, my god–myeggsareburning!"

Beep-beep-beep. The call ended.

Mom peaked over her should, her face scrunched in confusion. I gave a small shrug. "Doesn't seem like she's changed at all the last few years," I chuckled. Mom agreed. My phone began buzzing against the granite island.

"Hello," I answered cautiously.

Thalia huffed on the other end of the line. "I'm gonna have to throw that frying pan away," she laughed breathlessly. I gave her a moment to recuperate. "So, what's up? You wanna come over and swim today?"

• • •

Two hours later, drenched in sweat, I was walking down the road to Thalia's house. The temperature had to be pushing one hundred degrees at that point. Even in my modest, forest green bikini and tee shirt dress cover up, I was sweltering. And in sandals, my feet still felt like they were walking on lava. I eventually made it to Thalia and Victor's house without completely disintegrating into the blacktop.

               Their house was quaint, which is what I would have expected from them. It was a off-white one story with brown shutters that stood out compared to all the two and three story houses within the community. There were gentle stepping stones from the driveway that led up to the small front patio. The shade under the balcony felt no cooler. I nearly cried tears of joy at the sound of the pool filter on the other side of the house. I knocked relentlessly. From inside the house, I heard a faint, "It's open!"

I went inside, the icy air hitting my skin and making me feel even more disgusting with all of my sweat. The entrance was a hallway that lead past a living room on the left, a dining room just past it, another hall to the right (which I assumed were bedrooms and whatnot), and then the kitchen at the end. Thalia's dark head popped around the corner, a Cheshire smile pulling her lips. I met her in the kitchen where she was muddling mint leaves in a highball tumbler. "Hey! You like mojitos?"