The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

36⎜The Beginning

if you don't want to say goodbye to ari and eric, go read my new story "THE CLUB" once you're done with this <3

36⎜The Beginning

Home. Typically, most were inclined to link the four-lettered noun with a certain location. Maybe it was a physical building, or a town, or a city, or a state, or a country, or a planet, or a universe, or even a galaxy. All qualified as being "home" to at least one individual. To me, though, I was starting to think that "home" wasn't necessarily a place, but more of a state of mind. Okay, maybe "state of mind" wasn't the best phrase to use. Basically, maybe "home" didn't have to be a physical site, but more...well, something else entirely.

           To me, "home" was what one felt when surrounded by familiarity and comfort. Home was when you only had people around you that made you feel better about yourself and who liked you for you and not some fictionalized variation of that. Like that old quote stated, home truly was wherever the heart was. The concept of "home" didn't necessarily have to mean a structure with at least four walls and a zip code—it could also be a mobile place, dependent on where one's heart lay. Maybe it was where one's parents were, or siblings, or friends, or significant others. If "home" really was to be defined by people rather than places, then I had a few homes—not just one.

           My first home was with my parents. It always would be. I loved them, and since love seemed to be the connection that determined "home," then they were one of my homes. And since they currently lived in New York and probably always would until they finally retired to a nice house in Florida, that made New York my home. It was where my parents were, and even if I currently wasn't on the best terms with the state, I would have to settle for my parents, whether I liked it or not.

           At this point in my life, my second home was probably located in California. It was where I went to school, and where all my friends were: Kay Rodgers, Houston Walker, Scott (even though I was still majorly pissed at him), and even Seth and Noa. They had all been influential to the beginning of my college experience, and I was glad that they were there for me. I wasn't sure whether or not our friendships were just temporary and out of a place of mere convenience, but right now, they were one of my homes. When I was around them, I felt safe and secure, and wasn't that really the point of having a "home"?

           My third home was wherever a girl by the name of Ari Remon was. I would say that that qualified as also being California, except for the fact that it didn't. It didn't matter where Ari was—whether it was in California or all the way in the middle of a freeway on the East Coast. As long as I was with Ari Remon, I felt like I was home. She made me feel like the best possible Eric I could be. She had captured my heart long ago, so it only made sense that she was where my "home" was. After all, if home was supposedly where the heart was, then I couldn't even begin to imagine a person or place other than Ari that qualified as being "home."

           To Ari Remon, however, she was presently choosing to define home in the terms of "family." When she said that she wanted to go home, I soon learned that California was ruled out and that Pennsylvania was the setting for her "home." I could only assume that we were going to visit some of her old friends from her childhood or maybe go to her old house. But this was Ari Remon I was dealing with, and yet again, I made the mistake of assuming.

           Thus, after leaving my aunt's house on better terms with my parents and the nauseating word of "rehab" looming in the air, I began to drive, with Ari acting as my navigator. She was cheating by using her phone to direct me wherever it was that we were going, and when I asked if I could just see a map, she refused. Maybe it was because she thought that if I knew where we were going I would get scared and turn around, or maybe because she was just being Ari and liked the secrecy. Whatever the reason, I blindly complied and followed her directions. I was taking her home.