The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

33⎜The Return

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Return

I wasn’t religious in the slightest, but at this very moment, a story from the Old Testament  came to mind that I could faintly recall reading. It was that one when Jacob and his brother, Esau, were supposed to reunite. The last time Jacob had seen Esau, he was pissed as heck at Jacob for stealing some blessing thing. Fast-forward, like, thirty years, and Jacob didn’t know if Esau was going to still be mad at him for what he did. Right now, this felt a lot like that story.

           All I could do was stare at the blonde boy in Timberland boots and a sweater who used to be my other half. He didn’t look all that different than the last time I had seen him before I left. Still tall, blonde, and blue-eyed. As always, he was skinnier than me, but had muscles. His face was covered in a thin coating of scruff, but it wasn’t from inattentiveness or a lack of caring, but rather the opposite. Of anyone, he was probably the one of the only people on the planet who cared as much as me—if not more—about his appearance. The scruff was a look, and somehow he made it work.

           Cautiously, I stood from the bench, really hoping that this situation ended how the one in that story did (aka, well). Ari joined me, her face painted with a rapt perplexity. He was standing a few feet behind the bench, and began walking towards me. In the Bible, Jacob had his entire nation backing him, and so did Esau. It was a moment of tenseness, because Jacob didn’t know how Esau was going to react. I felt like Jacob right now. And there was my brother—Alex Campbell.

           “Sup, dude?” Alex spoke first, the casual smile that he often wore flitting onto his face like we were still best friends.

           “Hey,” I returned guardedly, not sure if he was being genuine or putting up a guise.

           “Long time no see,” he grinned. “How’s Cali?”

           “Good,” I replied, taking a small step towards him.

           “I’m assuming that the girls are hot,” he smirked, his eyes flicking over to Ari and taking her in, “even if they do wear weird tourist shit.”

           “I thought this was ‘all the rage’ on the East Coast,” Ari mocked, her words almost as careful as mine. As she spoke, she gestured down to her enormously white sweatshirt that I had bought her just a few minutes prior.

           He grinned. “Hi, I’m Alex Campbell.”

           “Ari,” she returned, and then took a moment to look him over thoroughly. “He’s a first name and last name type of guy.” And she was right.

           “Girlfriend?” Alex asked me, scrutinizing Ari just as she did the same to him. I nodded slowly in response. “She’s shorter than you usually go for.”

           “More damaged, too,” Ari added, somehow being able to make fun of her tragic history. I didn’t understand it, and just had to assume that it was a coping mechanism.

           “What’s your major?” inquired the other boy. As Alex asked the average question, it occurred to me that I didn’t know the answer, which was an issue. It was such a trivial thing, and through all of my questions, it was one thing that I had never asked her.

           “Psychology,” was what Ari said, making complete and total sense. I could see her as a psychologist one day. Sitting in an office, helping people. “You?”

           “Undeclared,” Alex determined slowly. “I’m at Yale, by the way.”

           “So, um, not to be rude, but why are you here, Alex?” I interjected, happy about the amicability that was passing between the two strangers. Hopefully, the same sentiment could be applied to our interaction, as well.