The Way Back

Oakland

Elisabeth exited her studio and climbed the stairs leading to the house. She and Andrew had moved less than a month ago, but each day the Craftsman style house felt more and more like home. Libba loved the brick and shingle exterior of the house, the natural light in nearly every room, and the quiet tree lined street. To her, it was 1,438 square feet of bliss nestled in Oakland.

As she stepped inside, Red Hot Chili Peppers hit her ears. She shook her head in amusement. Her love had finally stopped listening to Nirvana at least. Elisabeth padded into the kitchen and over to the sink, filling a glass with tap water. She stepped backwards as the music became louder. The young couple didn't need a noise complaint from the neighbors. Her baby blues widened. Libba bit down on her bottom lip in a lame attempt to hold in her laughter as she witnessed her boyfriend launching himself off the couch, dancing around the living room in his plaid boxer shorts and singing along to Suck My Kiss.

Andrew turned around, tossing his long, disheveled raven hair out of his eyes as he demonstrated killer air bass skills. He opened his eyes, cheeks flushing heavily with embarrassment. He ran a hand through his hair and curled his lips into a smirk as Libba's laughter faded. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked loudly over the music, walking over to the stereo and turning it down before sauntering over to her.

"Not as much as you were," she answered with laughter, grinning as his fingers hooked around the straps of her paint splattered overalls and tugged her closer to him.

"Wanna take a break from painting?" he asked softly as he rubbed his nose against hers.

Elisabeth shook her head and pulled away. "No. I only came in for a glass of water. I want to get finished, so I can do absolutely nothing tomorrow."

Andrew let out a disappointed sigh. "Lib," he whined, letting go of her overalls. "A little break can't hurt."

"Don't guilt trip me. You have that huge test on Monday. You should be studying, and we have to clean this place up before Daddy gets here. We'll have plenty of a break tonight at the party."

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Playing beer pong with your Uncle Jeff and hearing about his insurance sales. Fun times."

She giggled, shaking her head. "I think you secretly love it. Besides, you don't have to hear about how you're wasting your time getting an art history degree."

"Lib, you could always go into the insurance business. It's pretty lucrative from what I hear," he declared sarcastically.

Libba smacked his shoulder. "You're terrible, but I love you." She gave him a peck on the cheek and turned, walking away. Elisabeth stopped at the back door. "Give me another hour or so. I'll help you clean up the house."

Andrew mumbled and scratched the back of his head, looking around. The rooms looked lived in, but he knew she wanted them completely spotless since it would be Lindsey's first time seeing the house since they had moved in. He cranked the music back up and snagged a slice of pepperoni pizza out of the box on the coffee table. Andrew cracked open his books and let his green eyes glaze over the pages for ten minutes until he slammed the thick book shut. He simply wasn't in study mode. He tossed the pizza crust into the box and heard a car door slam outside. "Shit," he mumbled and straightened, glancing out the window. His eyes fell on the black Mercedes pulled in behind Libba's red convertible. "Fuck!" He exclaimed, noticing the blonde passenger. Andrew leapt off the couch and ran out to the cottage that Elisabeth had converted into a studio. "Lib! Libba! Elisabeth!" He screamed, jerking open the door. "Libba!"

Elisabeth pushed her headphones back, letting them hang around her neck. "Andrew, what's wrong?"

Andrew caught his breath and leaned against the door. "Your parents are here."