More Like Eternity

It was the depth of summer — you know the time — deep red heat stinging ripe into your shoulders. Sally sat on the bench in front of me with her red Chucks crossed at the ankle, chewing bubble gum louder than any cow I’d ever heard.

I actually loved that about her.

“He ain’t comin’,” I said. I kicked at a rock with my Doc Martens and curled a long strand of dark hair around my ear.

“Girl, chill. It’s too soon yet.” Sally’s eyes stayed glued to her phone.

Too soon? Felt more like eternity.

The cicadas curtained the air in a buzzing haze. I paced the patch of spongy turf layering the King Castle Playground, picking at the acne on my chin. Had it been days? Maybe even weeks now since I stood at the flagpole at Mount Saint High and asked Jerry Tompkins to meet me at this very place at the corner of 5th and Main at 5 pm on the third day of August.

Today. Here.

Jesus Christ. The suspense was killing me.

I couldn’t decide if the roiling in my gut was anticipation or the cold 7-Eleven burrito I’d inhaled earlier. I leaned over the bench to glance at Sally’s phone—4:45 PM.

“He’s going to come.” Sally finally looked at me, blue eyes steady. She raised an eyebrow as if daring me to argue, tightened her ponytail, and blew a strand of red hair from her face. “Just relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax?” I shouted. A flutter of birds took off from the tree behind me. Sally sighed and looked back at her phone.

“You’re literally always freaking out. If he comes, great, if he doesn’t…” she shrugged.

I winced. Her shrug was the same one my father used to give when he wanted me out of the room — the one that meant stop asking why your mother and I can’t make this work.

I drifted toward the old, broken swings and hooked my fingers around one of the metal poles between the chains. The first time I’d ever seen Jerry was right here in this playground ten years ago. He had jumped from the highest wooden castle ledge and landed right in front of me. His mom had let him dye blue spikes into his hair, and he’d pointed at them proudly, explaining in great detail how much gel he needed. I had been so jealous of the freedom his parents gave him. He had begged me to jump from the same height with him, but I was always too afraid to get hurt.

We were seven then. Now the chip in the plastic slide was bigger, and Jerry’s spikes had returned to a deep black — though he still sharpened them to precision, even at eighteen.

I scanned the horizon, hoping to see the first signs of those spikes peeking over the street. No such luck.

“Maybe I was wrong,” I said.

Sally, ever the enabler of my spiral, stood and tucked her phone into her back pocket. She found the only usable swing and started pumping her legs, gaining height.

“Wrong about what?” she asked. Her voice carried a hint of annoyance, but I chose to believe she lived for these conversations.

“At that party. Maybe…” I trailed off, watching Sally swing higher, the sun still hanging stupidly bright in the sky.

If you couldn’t already pick up on it, I wasn’t the one getting us into any parties. That was Sally. She didn’t necessarily run with the popular crowd, but they respected her because she’d somehow mastered the art of not giving a single fuck at seventeen. How she’d managed that was beyond me, considering I dissolved at the earliest whiff of uncertainty — but I clung to her because of it.

Sally wanted to go to this party for no other reason than to smoke weed and dance. Although many boys showed an interest in her, she’d never even taken her eyes off her friend Mary Jane and the art of the dance. I, on the other hand, had an agenda – one that felt serious and important.

Drink a beer?

Talk to a boy?

Do literally anything more exciting than sitting in my room writing fanfiction about K-pop characters?

Although Sally and I never said Jerry’s name out loud before the party, we both knew why I’d squeezed myself into my favorite plaid dress with the safety pins holding the skirt together. Sally wore her typical Converse and floral adidas tracksuit. Together, we could have passed for the new alt punk group on SoundCloud. I made jokes, but deep down, my excitement was electric.

Sally dissolved into the crowd in about three seconds flat, all smoke, thighs, and elbows. I hung back, rocking awkwardly on my feet, pretending I might follow her… but honestly, the whole thing felt about as appealing as lukewarm pasta.

I wandered to the kitchen, slinking past freshmen who looked like babies and college kids who looked like my uncle. Where did I fit? Somewhere in between. I tried to push those thoughts away as I scanned the marble countertop for some type of liquid that might release the tension in my gut. A girl in a black dress circled the expansive kitchen island with two red Solo cups in hand.

“You look like you need this.” She smiled as she handed me the cup, clinked hers against mine, and gulped the drink down. I looked down into the clear liquid. I thought about asking what it was, but then decided I didn’t need to know and drained the plastic cup. I coughed and wiped a hand over my mouth.

“My Knight in shining armor,” I said. She laughed but disappeared into the crowd almost as quickly as she arrived. Alone again. The empty plastic cup in my hand was my only friend now. I searched for something else to fill it with – something more to fill myself with. A box of White Claws perched on the edge of the counter. I snagged one, cracked the lid, and gulped the fizzing fluid until my stomach hurt.

The music cut off, and the collective groaned.

“Who the fuck touched my speaker?”

Marcus Planter crashed through the screen door in the kitchen as I turned toward the voice. His house, I assumed. I realized I didn’t even know. I leaned forward against the island and glanced into the living room. Sally tapped her foot impatiently as Marcus fiddled with his Bluetooth.

“Didn’t think you were the drinking type.”

I spun around, turning toward the voice, and there he was – Jerry Tompkins – holding open the screen door as he leaned against the doorjamb. His face was pure amusement as he looked me up and down. His gaze caused my cheeks to heat much faster than any alcohol could.

I cleared my throat and leaned back against the island on my elbows. Better to look at ease. Go for the cool vibes. I cocked an eyebrow at him, but all it did was cause a smirk to break out across his beautiful face.

I tried to keep my voice level. “I didn’t think you were the party type.”

He laughed, and the sound was all I needed to start my own private dancing.

The music started up again, this time a punk rock song that I am sure Sally chose. I Would Hate Me Too by TX2 was all she ever played these days.

Jerry held the screen door open a little further. “Want to get some fresh air?”

I had never wanted anything more.

The cool night washed the heat from my face as we stepped into Marcus’s endless backyard. What the hell did his parents do again? Insider trading? Something shady, for sure. The in-ground pool was packed with barely clothed teenagers, and the makeshift bar to our right overflowed with the rest.

Jerry led us to a quieter corner at the opposite end of the yard. A fire pit surged from the center of a collection of expensive outdoor furniture. My life had never been so luxurious as this. Jerry caught my eye as I brushed at the fabric.

“This place is crazy, right?” he asked.

I smiled. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He took a seat next to me on the couch. The smell of Old Spice wafted toward me, and I thought I might faint at the sheer deliciousness of his scent.

“One day, I’ll have the same.” There was no doubt in his voice as he took a drag of his cigarette and looked up into the night sky. The stars were barely visible.

I looked around nervously, not sure of what to say next. Then… “What did you mean? Back there?”

It was his turn to cock an eyebrow at me, and I had to admit he was so much better at it.

“Why didn’t you think I was the drinking type?” I asked.

He smiled at me and raised his hands. “Oh shit, yeah. I didn’t mean to offend. I only remember the playground. You never liked taking that jump. Always too afraid to get hurt, if I recall. Thought the burn of that alcohol would have been enough to keep you away.”

My insides flipped in confusion. He remembered all that just like I did. But he thought I was a wimp…

I scoffed. “We were seven. I am not the same.”

He glanced at me again, the first time I had ever seen a bit of doubt in his eyes. “That’s for sure.”

My thoughts surged. I had to get out of here. He obviously thought I was a wimp and hated who I’d become. He must’ve heard all the rumors about my parents splitting—right there on the blacktop three years ago. He must’ve known I was the reason they fell apart. He’d figured all of that out in the span of time it took us to walk outside. My brain scrambled for any possible escape route from what was surely about to be the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.

“Look, I—” I tried to stand, but he put a hand on my forearm. His touch was gentle and yet… everything rushed straight to the core of me as if the fire had crept closer.

“Wait, I didn’t mean…” he trailed off. “Shit, Frankie.”

My name on his lips was a prayer I didn’t know I needed to hear. It was enough to drop me right back into the seat. His touch. My name. God, I was such a sucker.

Jerry asked “Do you mind if I –”

I shook my head, not knowing what he was asking and not caring either. He scooted closer on the couch, propping his arm along the back behind me. My heart revved like an engine stuck in park. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this close to a boy—or maybe I had and just never cared before. I definitely cared now. Every part of me was screaming at his closeness. I couldn’t have stopped the magnetism in my bones if I tried.

“Remember that science lab we did together all those years ago?”

I nodded, unsure of why he was talking about school suddenly. My mind reeled at the possibilities.

“I don't know if you remember but… I was having a hard time with Billy that day.”

The memories surged. Bunsen burners, test tubes and Jerry whispering family secrets into my ear. His brother Billy has just gotten in trouble with the police and Jerry had been scared for him.

“Do you remember what you told me that day?” Jerry asked.

My chest loosened, I inhaled sharply. “I told you that families struggle in a lot of ways but they can always be your family if you want them to be.”

Jerry nodded and smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that was really good advice.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You remember that?”

Jerry rubbed a hand over his face and looked into the fire. “Honestly it may have saved my life back then.”

My eyes were wet as I looked at the fire too. It seemed as if the flames were dancing with the music and the heat warmed my face in the most delightful way. Something in me had shifted. A light opening flowered in my throat, giving rise to a voice I never thought I had. “I really wanted to see you here tonight.”

He turned to look at me, the firelight splitting his face down the middle, and smiled. “I wanted to see you too.”

“Maybe that was just… a friend thing.” I was back in the playground with Sally watching her skid against the turf with her Chucks. She stopped and her momentum carried her out of the swing and toward the seasaw. I climbed on the other end of the board and sank to a squat as she dug in her pocket for her phone.

“Why do you do this?” Sally asked as she scrolled.

“Do what?” I asked back.

“Imagine worst case scenarios,” she said.

I shrugged. “It's what my father does.”

Woods by Mac Miller played from Sally's phone as she mounted her end. We each took turns bouncing to the beat of the music

“Your father does risk analysis so you don't have to.” Sally always made this very important point.

I wanted to tell her it was more than that. It was the fact that my mother's influence was few and far between – her presence even more rare in the past year. I wanted to tell her my father buried himself in his work to keep from looking at the empty spaces she left behind. I wanted to tell her that I couldn't help but worry about what this was doing to him… what it was doing to me. But I didn't tell her anything then, I just kept pounding my feet into the dusty turf.

Sally turned the music down a tad. “Hey, look at me.”

I stopped, fell to a squat again and looked up at Sally.

“You aren't them,” she said. The clarity in her voice pierced my chest. I looked away, throat tight, and pushed off the ground again, rocking the seesaw like the motion alone could save me.

“You aren't them unless you let yourself be them.” Sally continued.

She was right, of course. She was always disgustingly right.

I rolled my eyes and jumped off the seesaw, letting Sally fall. Sally’s face twisted in betrayal right before she hit the dirt.

“Oh, you better run,” she growled, scrambling to her feet.

I took off, giggling, the heat rising off the turf in shimmering waves.

Then, I froze. Was that–

Sally slammed into my back and we toppled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She swore, untangling herself as I scrambled to my feet—and that’s when I saw him.

The Deep black hair. The smashing pumpkins T-shirt. The faded cargo shorts. My chest was vibrating. There he was. Jerry Thompkins coming over the damn hill.

“What?” Sally asked from the ground. Realization hit her face and she scrambled up to stand next to me. She squinted her eyes before punching me in the shoulder.

“Oh. My. God. Did I not tell you he would come?!”

The excitement in her voice was equal to the feeling thrumming through every inch of me.

He was here. To meet me.

Jerry stopped a few feet from us, breathless, as if he'd ran the whole way here. Sally gave me a thumbs up and smiled as she slunk behind the slide.

“You didn't think I'd forget, did you?” He was definitely out of breath.

My throat closed. I couldn't speak so I shook my head.

He stepped forward again, until he was so close I could count his eyelashes. He smiled –awkward, crooked, beautiful. “Good, because I have something to tell you.”

Before I could ask, the cicadas rose in one sharp chorus, buzzing so loudly it felt like the whole world was vibrating. Jerry tipped his head back and laughed. The sound cracked something open in me, and I laughed too—light, breathless.

That's when I knew, it didn’t matter what words came next.

Because I wasn’t afraid of the jump anymore.