𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 week before Adam leaves, a strong smell of espresso sits in the air of Rowan's bedroom. The time is nearing seven in the morning and a shy breeze blows outside. She sits in her desk chair, her knees pulled to her chest, with a pen between her teeth and glasses perched at the tip of her nose. She grabs the pen, uncapping it before drawing an aggressive red scribble across the page, noting 'run-on sentence' in the margins. She glances at the clock and blinks harshly. A phone call brings her back to focus and she leans across her desk to reach it.
"Hello?"
"Greetings from Venice! I am using a very expensive payphone right now so I would love it if you could put your happy voice on and act as if you are thrilled to hear from me," Samir says.
"Samir, do you even have any idea what time it is here?"
"No," he answers. "But you picked up so it can't be that unreasonable."
"It's 6:38 in the morning."
"Well, why are you awake?"
"Trying to edit the summer work for McPhee's class. Have you done it yet?"
The boy inhales profoundly and makes a strange hum into the phone. "I work best under pressure."
"So no?"
"Correct," Samir nods. "Where is Pops?"
"Sleeping, if she has any sanity," Rowan guesses.
"No, that wouldn't be it."
She laughs lightly. "How are things in Europe? Just as amazing as you predicted?"
"Unbelievably great. I already plan on looking into studying abroad programs for Junior or Senior year. You should do it with me, you'd love it."
"I'll consider it," she decides. "But only if Poppy goes, too."
"That's no way to live life," he says, a tsk of fake disapproval present in his voice. "But I have a question for you."
"Alright, shoot."
"When were you going to tell us that you were an Olympic figure skater?"
Rowan laughs and her eyebrows inch together. "How'd you find that out?"
"Stumbled across it last night when my waitress recalled fond memories of competing against you in the Olympics."
"That was like a lifetime ago," she tells him. "I was fourteen and it was the Junior Olympics, for your information."
"That's still a big deal. Why did you stop?"
"I didn't," she shrugs. "I was on a team all throughout high school. I just didn't think it was extremely relevant to anything we were doing at school."
"If I won the Olympics, I would find a way for it to always be relevant," Samir states.
A knock sounds on her door and she voices to come in. Adam opens the door, a brown paper bag in his hand, and a confused smile spreads across his lips. "You don't like coffee."
"You're right, I don't."
"Who's that?" Samir asks. "That sounds like a boy to me. Is it your brother? It better be your brother."
"It's not my brother," Rowan answers, watching Adam who mouths the same thing across the room. "It's Adam."
"What is Adam doing in your bedroom at 6 in the morning?"
"Who is that?" Adam questions.
"A friend from school," she says.
"Boy or a girl?"
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𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬
Fanfiction"Tell me to stay and I will." He thinks for a long moment. If we were meant to stay in one place forever, we'd have roots rather than legs. "I think you should go," he says finally.
