"So you're really moving out today?"
Naomi, my ex-fiancée, sits across from me at our kitchen table, absently spearing a cherry tomato with her fork while I chew through a dry sandwich.
"Yeah," I say. "Friends are coming to help out in a bit."
She nods, thoughtfully.
"That's it then," she continues. "End of an era."
Most of our conversations have looked like that since she dumped me. Naomi desperately filling the silence, me trying not to tell her to fuck off.
"Glad you found a nice place," she offers with a tight smile. "That vacation with your parents really gave you your mojo back. I thought you'd be living on the couch for a while there."
I groan, not sure what to do with her condescending tone. I suppress the memories of the real reason behind my recent good mood.
But the doorbell rings, sparing me from having to come up with an answer. Naomi rises from her chair, brushing nonexistent crumbs from her yoga pants.
"Must be your friends." She drops her plate into the sink with a clatter. "I'll hang out in my room. Stay out of your way."
I take a breath before walking to the front door.
Jim stands on the porch, wiping sweat from his brow. Middle-aged, slightly pudgy, and my best friend from work. Like any good suburban dad, he has a large truck, currently parked in my driveway.
Beside him, Trevor leans against the railing, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on his head. Tall and built like a guy who still gets mistaken for a student at every college bar he steps into.
I wave them in.
"Jesus, man. I thought you had way more stuff," Trevor says, kicking at one of the moving boxes in the living room. "Like... a couch. Or a TV."
"Yeah, well, turns out Naomi owned most of it," I mutter.
Jim claps a hand on my shoulder. "Tough break, buddy. But on the bright side, this means we'll be done in no time."
The sun beats down as we start lugging my belongings into Jim's truck's bed. Trevor has a point. Most of my stuff consists of clothes, books, and other random small items. Luckily, my new place is furnished.
It's during one of these trips from the house to the driveway that I notice her.
A small silhouette in the distance, blurred by the waves of heat rising from the asphalt as she walks down the street.
Her blonde ponytail bounces with each step. She's dressed in a grey State U T-shirt tucked into high-waisted jean shorts. White sneakers and socks peeking just above her ankles. Her skin glows with a light sheen of sweat under the sun, no makeup, just Maddie.
A weight lifts off my shoulders when she notices me. She beams and speeds up.
And then, suddenly, Maddie's on me. Arms thrown around my neck, body colliding into mine without hesitation.
I catch her on instinct. She smells like summer against me.
It's probably a little crass to ask the girl I'm sleeping with to help me move out of my ex's house.
But I'm the dumpee, I deserve some leeway.
Still, I quickly look around to make sure we're alone.
"Hey," I murmur, as we separate. "You came!"
"Yeah, of course," she answers, then flashes me the smirk that usually spells my doom. "Anything to get you out of there. We need our privacy."
The door creaks open behind me.
Trevor stumbles out, his face hidden behind a massive cardboard box. He grunts as he heaves it into the truck, a loud thud following the drop.
He stretches, rolls his shoulders, and then turns. He nearly jumps when he finally notices Maddie.
"Shit, hello there," he mutters, blinking. But he recovers quickly, nodding at her T-shirt. "State U?"
Maddie grins and puffs out her chest to show off the logo. No bra in sight. "Yep."
Trevor holds up his hand. Maddie drags out the moment, making a show of getting onto her tiptoes before giving him his high-five.
She giggles, all bright-eyed and innocent. I know better.
"Alright," I call, amazed as ever at Maddie's flirty demeanor. "Let's get back to work!"
I do my best to focus on moving the boxes and packing the last few things lying around the place. But every time I raise my head, Maddie's eyes are already on me.
She looks away too quickly, cheeks flushed.
We've barely seen each other since our debauched free-for-all at the motel on the way back from the lake. I've been busy with work and looking for a new place, and she's started her new job. But she's kept her texting relentless.
It feels strange to see her outside of the bubble that is my parents' lakehouse.
But all it took was one quick hug, one laugh, one look at her standing there in my driveway, drenched in summer heat. I'm right back under her spell.
Maddie's just that magnetic.
"Damn, Roman, you work fast," Trevor's voice is low, amused, as he leans against the truck beside me, watching Maddie in the distance. "Where'd you find her?"
"It's not like that," I scoff, trying to sound offended. "She's a childhood friend."
This is a much better way to phrase our relationship than 'my little sister's best friend.' How did I not think of it before?
"Well, whatever you say, bro," he slaps my shoulder before going back to moving boxes.
Soon, the four of us are soaked in sweat. But we're mostly done and take a quick pause sitting around the table in the shaded backyard.
That's when Naomi comes out of the house, carrying a tray with three beer bottles on it, slick with condensation.
"Hey, boys!" She chirps. "Brought some refreshments!"
Her perfect hostess act drops when her eyes fall on Maddie.
"Hello. I don't think we've met?"
Maddie opens her mouth to answer, but Naomi snaps her fingers in recognition.
"Oh! No, wait, I remember now. You're Paige's little friend. Tammy, right?"
It's rare to see Maddie completely lose her composure. But she just stands there, looking absolutely humiliated.
"It's Maddie, actually." I correct. "She's offered to help me move out."
"That's nice. Thank you, Maddie," Naomi says to a blushing Maddie. "I'll get you a drink too, then. Be right back."
There's an awkward silence in the garden.
Then Naomi comes back, gracefully setting a single diet Coke can on the table.
