Twenty-Nine // J.G.

twenty-nine.

One month later.

"Come on, Marley. You have to pick up the phone sooner or later. At least let me know that you're alright. I miss you. I'm in town this weekend, and me and Skate are coming no matter what, so you might as well call us back."

Again the dull ring of the tone ended Sam's message, and again I remained stationary on the couch with Pancake snuffling beside me as I perished yet another book. It was a mystery — I don't read romance anymore. It was time I moved on from those false tales of a dream life and from the haunting memory of the summer.

Sam and Nate have been persistent with their intent on reconnecting the friendship I had unintentionally abandoned over the past month, and although I reciprocated the desire to see them again, I don't think my heart could bear the memories that will surely ensue. I just need time. I was barely beginning to engulf myself back into the strict routine I had before the disastrous crumbling of my old life. And I was perfectly content with reverting back to it. This is who I am, and it's the lifestyle that suits me.

That's what I keep telling myself anyway.

It's the only thing I can tell myself to get over the ever-present idea that there is something more to life than school and work and loneliness.

I am not necessarily unhappy though. I rather enjoy relaxing and reading over daily adventures, but there is a certain frustration with just existing. I suppose time will heal everything. Time and isolation. If I distract myself long enough, maybe I can finally convince my heart and my brain that this is what's meant to be.

Hours — or maybe minutes; I can never keep track while reading — later, Pancake's stubby legs hauled him over to the door in pursuit of figuring out what was on the other side.

"What is it, baby? Need a bathroom break?" I chirped, setting the book on the coffee table. As soon as I stepped foot on the carpet, however, I heard a knock. "Goddammit." I cursed. My body settled into a petrified stance as if that would somehow convince Sam and Nate that I wasn't home.

"Mar, open the door! You ain't getting out of this one!" Sam's voice split clear through the wooden barrier.

"You know we'll stay all night if we have to." Nate added as the two concocted a rhythmic knock together.

Damn them. Despite how stubborn I have been, they knew I could never be so cruel to leave them out there. I breathed a sigh and allowed my muscles to slouch down before creeping to the door, raveling my fingers around the handle. For a moment I considered not answering it and just telling them to stay at a hotel, but my body moved ahead of my mind and soon the two of them poured into the room, bringing their high spirits with them.

Before I could utter a single sound, I was sandwiched into a hug that would have squeezed the air out of me had I not already been struggling to breath on my own. I hadn't expected how much havoc the mere scent of the boys would cause on my emotions. Thankfully, though, I was able to suck it up for the most part with just teary eyes and aching lungs for now.

"What are you guys doing in the city?" I started off the conversation like it hasn't been a whole month without contact.

"I've got a quick show, and Sammy boy is here for support." Nate grinned while clapping Sam on the back of his neck.

"That's nice. I'm sure you're gonna kill it like always." My words were genuine, however, they weren't enough to lead the boys away from the elephant in the room. How could I have expected different? No matter how much I wish it wasn't the case, they knew me just as thoroughly as I did them.

"Aw c'mon, don't act so formal, Mar. We brought breakup food and shit for you." Nate informed, and at the same time, dove his hand into a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. I quirked a brow, eyeing the two giants whose visit was long overdue.