Wrong House

12: Oaklynn

        Holland kept his word, and we were out the door by six thirty. The drive home was agonizingly slow, and by the time we pull into my driveway, we are both exhausted.

        Holland kills the engine and turns to face me, "Go inside. I'll grab our bags and meet you in there." I nod, and slowly start to get out. He grabs my hand, "I'm here for you, okay? I'll be here the whole time." I nod, and he kisses my hand. "Go, your mom has been looking out the window since we pulled up."

        I turn to the window, and see my mom standing there with a smile on her face. I get out, and head to the door. Before I get up the porch steps, the front door flings open. "You're here, and you brought a friend," mom looks at Holland, "oh, your boyfriend." She winks, and I roll my eyes. I don't get how she isn't sitting on the floor bawling right now. That's all I want to do, I'm surprised I didn't cry on the drive over here.

        "How are you?" I ask, and she shrugs. "Well let's get inside, it's chilly out here." I turn to Holland, "Come on, it's chilly and you don't need to get sick." I tell him, and he grins.

        When he walks up the stairs, my mom ushers us inside, and tells Holland to set the bags down. He sets them down, and steps in front of her, "It's a pleasure to officially meet you. I do however wish it was under different circumstances." She pulls him into a hug, which he graciously returns.

        They stay that way for a few minutes, and I swear my heart is close to bursting out of my chest. Out of the few boyfriends I had growing up, there had only ever been one my mom hugged. The sight of them embracing each other makes me smile. When they finally pull away from each other, the front door opens and closes.

        Rebel walks in, and immediately drops the bags he was holding. "You're actually here?" I nod, confused. "My friends told me that I shouldn't get my hopes up on seeing you unless it's the holidays." He confesses.

        I pull him into a hug, "I'll always be here. I'm just a few hours away." I whisper, and he nods. Rebel has never been one to show emotions, but I know that when he goes to his room, he'll let them out. He thinks he has to put on a strong face for my mom and I, and no matter how many times we tell him it's okay for him as a man to show emotions.

        When we pull away, he looks at Holland and gives me an eatshit grin, "Is this the guy you don't shut up about? The one whose name has hearts around it on your notebooks?" They all laugh, and I smack Rebel. He extends a hand out to Holland, "I'm just kidding. It's nice to meet you." They shake hands, and we all sit there in silence for a moment.

        "It's so good to have you home, baby." Mom says, and then her eyes soften, "I just wish Nana could tease you about being grown up, and bringing such a devilishly handsome boy home with you." I roll my eyes.

        We all have ways of coping. Ours is humor, and sharing stories about the person who is gone. Sometimes, I wish we coped in a semi normal way though. You know, like ugly cry together, laugh at things we remember, and talk about our grief. But that's not us. We deflect the situation, share stories of the embarrassing times, and feast on the favorite food of the person who is no longer here.

        "Reb, can you show Holland to Oaklynn's room, and help him get their bags up there? Please." Mom asks Rebel, who nods, grabs a bag, and leads Holland towards our rooms. "Oak, can you grab the rest of the bags, and help me in the kitchen?" She asks me, and I nod.

        I already know I am about to be bombarded with questions about Holland, and the rest of the group, and how the college life is. Which means I won't tell her the truth. College life sucks, I want to be with her and Rebel again. That I hate the change I have had to grow used too. Don't get me wrong, I love the group, and I love the time we spend together. They are all great, but it doesn't make being away from home easier.