Coffee Shop Conversations | ✓

24

unknown number:

this is tucker.

sent 4:30 pm

where and when do you want to meet up?

sent 4:30 pm

amelia:

your house whenever you're free? i don't care.

sent 4:40 pm

tucker:

come over anytime after 5. this is my cousin's phone, so i'm really sorry if you get weird texts.

sent 4:40 pm

HI TUCKER'S GIRLFRIEND WHO APPARENTLY ISN'T HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!

sent 4:42 pm 

oiskldfjslkdfksjdklfsjdflksjsorryalksdjalksdjaksdjlajsdlakjsdalkjdlakjdsorry

sent 4:42 pm

amelia:

why are you on your cousin's phone? not that i care.

sent 4:50 pm

tucker's cousin: 

my sim isn't working.

sent 4:50 pm

read 4:50 pm

***

i was knocking on an awfully familiar door ten minutes later. it brought back waves of crippling nostalgia and i almost buckled right there on the elliots' front porch.

maybe i should've suggested my house, but it's too late once the door slowly creaks open."hey," tucker croaks, sounding a bit like his door.

everything looks the same. the house is exactly the same, just emptier of life.

there's a dent in the floor where i tried to find a secret floorboard in their house with a fork.

there's a chip in the baseboard where tucker tripped over my doll and his head went flying into the wall turn.

there's a stain on the ceiling from when our parents tried to get us to throw peas at a map.

there's a scuff on the tiling where tucker and i tried to sled dog race with each other as a dog.

there's a hole in the wall where i tried to prove to tucker i had a thicker head than him.

"oh my god." i could feel the tears, embarrassingly, brimming my eyes. "no, no. i'm supposed to hate you."

he surprises me by smiling. "i'd hate me too. come on, it's quieter downstairs." 

the scuffs of our childhood are identical, but i notice there are a few things about the house that are just slightly off. 

like how he lifts a baby gate, which makes no sense because his mother couldn't have any more children. like how the family photos were taken down. and how tucker's father's medals were missing from their display case. 

"tucker...where are the medals?"

he flinches but i don't miss it. "cleaning?"

"why'd you...take down the pictures that covered the paint splotches? hey, why are there holes where the splotches used to be?" i can't help myself. i haven't talked to tucker in ages and i can't help myself from asking all these questions like old times--just like how he can't help himself from using the wrong name.

"amy-amelia!" he snaps. "just-" he takes a deep breath. "take your stuff out and lets work."

i try to forget about the fist marks in the wall. we breeze through a week of lessons and he lets me begin my first lab.

weirdly enough, even though he said his sim was broken, he kept checking his phone, as if messages were going to come through on a broken sim. 

and weirder...he was getting notifications.

it's not until we go back upstairs and i see the tiny little kitten with the bright hazel eyes that i begin to piece it all together.