hi, hello i'm back.
you are here
boston, massachusetts, 3:14 pm
mixtape: come home by chappo
"You better be calling me to say that you are all packed up and ready to be back here in a week," Alice sings into the phone. I laugh nervously.
"About that…" I trail off and I can hear her suck in a breath.
"My wedding is in twenty days Isabella Swan and I am not about to stress eat another carton of ice cream," she warns and I sigh. Alice has always been an anal-retentive nutcase but this wedding has turned her into something much worse—something much scarier. So I'm calling her now, metaphorical tail between my legs as I lay on the sidewalk outside of my apartment, cursing whatever god has done this disservice to me.
"The truck is dead," I say slowly, cringing with every word.
"No!" she gasps. "Bella, I've been telling you for years to get rid of that thing!"
"I know," I groan, staring at the rusting metal of my beloved truck as it's being towed away for good. The engine is caput and I can't afford a new one.
I can't really afford anything at the moment, hence my call to Alice.
"I can't get on a plane—I don't have the money for that. And I have to get all my stuff back to Seattle."
"You should've thought about that before you ran away to Boston," she huffs.
"I wouldn't exactly call going to college running away," I say. The tow truck turns a corner and it's gone. I feel the loss hit me in the stomach—I've had that giant tank of a truck since I was fifteen and my mom was teaching me how to drive a stick before I even had my permit. It seems wrong to be going back home without it
"Bella? Are you even listening to me?" Alice's irritation brings me back to the situation at hand.
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask and she tsk's at me.
"I may have a plan, I'll call you back." She doesn't even say goodbye, the phone beeps to let me know she's gone.
I lay on the sidewalk a little longer, arm thrown over my eyes. It's mid-afternoon on a Tuesday so the street isn't exactly busy. It's actually quite nice, it's not very hot out for once, the skies are blue and a breeze is blowing through the trees lining the road. I've lived on this block for the last three years, in this very apartment and to be leaving it, my heart sinks—why does it feel like I'm losing everything?
"Are you okay?" I hear a clear voice ask and I nearly cry at the sound.
"Ang," I whine and I finally move my arm away. My roommate is standing over me, clutching her tote bag and pushing a loose lock of dark, straight hair behind her ear. Angela's face is crossed with concern but also a little bit of amusement—she's had to deal with my overdramatic meltdowns too many times over the last four years, ever since she met me in the bathroom of the dining hall, crying because I accidentally spilled an entire bowl of soup down my shirt on the first day of new student week.
"Get up, you're probably laying a cesspool of germs right now. They don't clean these sidewalks, you know. I'm sure Drunk Connor has taken a piss there." Drunk Connor is our neighbor and he lives up to his name—I don't think I've ever seen him sober, even in a philosophy class we shared my sophomore year. I groan but Angela holds her hand out to help me up and once I'm standing, she pulls me into a hug.
"I'm sorry about the truck," she says sincerely and she leads me inside. Our apartment is in shambles, both of us packing up our lives before the lease ends in a few days. Angela's moving in with her boyfriend a few blocks away and I'll be going home to Washington. There are boxes everywhere, the walls are bare and freshly painted white, free of the framed photos and posters we'd had hanging up over the years.
"So how did Alice take the news?" Angela asks, picking up the take out menu sitting on the counter in the kitchen. "The usual?" I nod and she starts dialing the number on her phone.
"It went as well as I expected it to," I sigh before she orders our lunch. "She said she'd figure something out."
"What's she going to do? Come pick you up herself?" Angela laughs, setting the phone down. She pulls her hair into a ponytail and takes a bottle of wine out of the fridge—which, right now, only holds alcohol and coffee creamer.
"I wouldn't put it past her," I say, flopping down onto the old beat up couch that takes up most of the space in our living room. We're leaving it here for the next tenants. The thought of someone else sitting on our couch makes me even more depressed.
"Shouldn't you be more excited about going back? With that fancy new job you have lined up?" Angela asks, handing me a coffee mug filled with cheap Moscato.
"I am!" I say, because it's true. My cousin, Rosalie, works at this magazine based in Seattle and with my English and Creative Writing degree she got me a job as an editorial assistant. It's really better than anything I could have asked for, even though I'm going to have to pick up a waitressing gig or something to afford rent somewhere in the city.
"I'm just going to miss you," I say sadly, sipping my wine. "And this place. I don't know, maybe I'm just sentimental."
"It's been a great four years, Bella," she says and pats my arm lightly. "But it's time to kick ass in the real world. Let's tackle the division of the DVD collection, shall we?"
I'm comfortably tipsy and full of lo mein by the time Alice calls me back later on in the evening. I yell for Angela to turn the music down as we pause our packing session and dance party.
"Hello?" I answer too loudly.
"I've solved all of our problems," Alice says confidently.
"Yes, Edward is going to pick you up on his way out. He's at Dartmouth now, getting settled. He has to bring my dad's truck back so he was planning on driving anyways. "
"Wait what?" I ask because maybe I didn't hear her correctly, maybe I'm drunker than I thought. There's no way-
"You heard me. It's just Edward. He'll pick you up on Wednesday at four. I'll text you his number because I doubt you still have it, just send him your address." The warning note in her tone doesn't escape my notice.
"But isn't he in New Hampshire? That's where Dartmouth is right?" Alice sighs.
"Yes, Bella, but like I said, it's on his way. Just deal with it until after the wedding and you never have to talk to him again, okay?"
"Yes ma'am," I grumble.
"That's my girl. I love you! See you soon!" She doesn't wait for my goodbye, she hangs up before I can protest further but I get a text from her almost immediately letting me know that she's shared a contact with me.
I'm really excited about writing this story, right now i have it outlined as about 30+ chapters. weeeee roadtrips, let me know what you think? love it? hate it?
hoping to update once or twice a week.
until next time,