Visiting the 'Rents

"I honestly have no idea where the hell we are," I sigh, flicking my gaze to Justin, sitting in the passenger seat. He tosses his hair across his face, covering his forehead just a little.

"I honestly had no idea, Tilly," he jokes, sarcastically. I glower at him, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure we'll be there in a moment. It can't be that hard to find your parents' house, can it?"

"You never know," I reply, resting my head on his hand before nudging it away. "They probably bought some little shack in the boondocks, y'know? Just to make it difficult." He laughs and resumes his staring out of the window.

Justin and I have been best friends since high school, and we even got into the same college. My name is Matilda, but he insists upon calling me Tilly, so I call him Fart-Faced McGee. It's a fair trade, is it not? I've never loved him, and I'm nearly certain he's never loved me. Maybe a little before we started being besties, but that doesn't count.

Suddenly, the guts of the car begin to sputter. "Oh no, oh no, no, no,no," I hiss, guiding the car to the shoulder. "C'mon, Buddy. You can do this." I plead the car to jump back into motion. Justin leans over and taps the fuel gauge. 

"It don't work unless you've got gas, Tilly," he points out, ruffling my short, black hair. 

"Justin! This isn't funny!" I screech, throwing my car door open and walking to the front. I slouch on the hood of the car, feeling close to tears for no apparent reason. I hear Justin do the same, only, instead of slouching, he perches. "I mean, this meant a lot to my parents. It still does. Just the fact that I would come all the way to their new house...." I trail off.

Justin wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Hey, Matilda," he whispers. "We can still get there. I know we will," he crosses his other arm in front of me, clasping his hands on my left shoulder, "because you, my mighty fine friend, have a keen sense of direction."

"Justin, seriously," I mutter into his arm. It smells so genuinely ... Justin. Almost like a tropical drink, lightly sprinkled with an earthy smell. "I need to find this ****in' house, and it seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth." A single tear of frustration leaks out of my eye, landing on the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Oh," he says, pausing for a moment to think. He stands up, pulling me with him, and pulls me closer to him. "Tilly, listen to me closely, please?" I nod, looking into his striking blue eyes. "You are smart enough to do this. I'm barely smart enough to open a can of beans, you know that, right? I'm barely surviving. Have you seen my BMI recently?"

I laugh softly, a few more tears spilling over. "I wondered how you were always so skinny," I murmur, my voice rough from my fit of panic. "So very, very skinny."

All at once, Justin leans his head down and kisses me lightly on the lips. 'Oh, no. Nope,' I think. 'This is wrong. I don't like Justin like this. But...what if I do? This is a pretty awesome kiss, I have to admit...' I trail off in my head. I suddenly realize I need to breathe, so I pull away, taking in a lungful of air. 

"Sorry, Tilly," Justin whispers. "But I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Justin, I-"

"I know what you're going to say," he sighs, dropping his arms. "You're going to tell me that you don't like me like that and that you have a boyfriend, and I have a girlfriend, but, Til, I just..."

"Couldn't help yourself," I finish, patting his arm. "We can, er, talk about this later. Now, a car is coming, way over there," I point to a speck on the horizon, "and we're going to hitchhike back to the gas station, okay?"

Justin nods, going around the car to retrieve our small bags from the trunk. As the car approaches, I step up to the side of the road and stick my thumb out. The black SUV slows, and the window rolls down.

"Matilda!" my mother's shrill voice cries. "We were just looking for you! George, help the boy with their bags."

"No, no!" Justin calls from the back of my car. "I've got 'em." He shuffles to the rear of my mother's new car as I clamber in the backseat.

"Hello, Dear," my father says, patting my knee. "How is the city?"

"Filled with zombies. Nothing else. Just me, Justin, and zombies," I joke, winking at him. He chuckles, somehow rippling his mustache. 

"I knew it! The city is dangerous, Matilda," he laughs. Justin opens his door and slides in, guiding his hair to the right to clear his vision. 

"Hello, Mrs. Weber," he mutters, patting my mom on the shoulder. "Long time no see, huh?"

"Oh, Justin, you are so silly," she laughs, U-turning. "I can't wait for you guys to see the new house."

"Is it another big house?" I ask, buckling myself.

"No, no," my dad sighs. 

"I didn't want a house I can't take care of by myself," my mom laughs. "No maids from here on out."

"That's lovely," I reply, staring at the countryside whipping past my window.

"It's funny that you broke down there," my dad points out. "Only about five minutes from the house."

"Really?" I ask, laughing. Soon, we're pulling into the long driveway that leads up to the quaint cottage. The walls are painted a fresh looking shade of pale green. "It's very nice, Mom."

"Thank you, Honey," she sighs, putting the car into park. We all slide out of the SUV and trudge across the gravel to the small, wooden door. Justin holds the screen door open, following me inside. "Do you guys want tea?" she calls from the kitchen. 

"Sure," Justin yells back, pulling off his sweatshirt, momentarily revealing his toned stomach. 'Stop looking, Matilda,' I order myself. I look at the ceiling instead. 

"Tea would be nice," I also shout, sliding out of my jacket. I move to step into the dining room just off the small hall by the door, but Justin grasps my elbow.

"Hey, do you, uh, wanna talk?" he asks, releasing my arm.

"In a bit, okay?" I reply, patting his hand. A flash of sadness crosses his face, so I tack on, "I promise." I remember my coat, so I attempt to pull open the closet door, but it is locked.

I shuffle into the dining room, dropping my jacket on the table and sitting at the bar, facing the kitchen where my mother is putting the kettle on. "It's lovely here, Mom," I tell her, looking at the wood paneled walls and linoleum floors. "My only issue is your closet."

"What about it?"

"It's locked, Mom," I scoff, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Is it?" she asks, nodding her head. "That's right. We're going to get new locks put on it. I think I"m going to make cookies while the boys go revive your car."

"No, no," I answer, standing up. "I'll do it. You sit down and rest for a while."

"Oh, Matilda," she sighs. "I'm not a hundred yet, I can make you and your boyfriend some cookies."

"Justin is not my boyfriend," I mutter, rounding the small barrier into the kitchen. I guide my mother's small body to the counter. She settles in one of the chairs beside the bar.

"Isn't he?" she asks. "I just assumed."

"Mo-om," I groan, winking. "But, no, we're not 'an item' currently."

"You will be," she giggles, smirking. 

I scoff, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. I flip open my mom's stained cookbook to my favorite recipe: Oatmeal Raisin cookies. "No, we will not be," I reply, getting down the oatmeal and setting to work. "Now, I have cookies to make, Mother."

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

"Well, I think it's time to hit the hay," I yawn, getting up as the credits to "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" roll. 

"Yep," Justin agrees, stretching his arms before standing. "After you, Madame," he laughs, bowing before me. It was my mother's brilliant idea to have us share a room.

"Goodnight, Mom," I call. "Goodnight, Dad. I'll see you in the morning."

Justin grumbles something, too, but I can't hear him. I pull my pajamas out of my blue duffel bag, quickly sliding them on before Justin comes in. He opens the door just moments after I settle on the trundle my mom set out. "You can have the big bed," Justin murmurs, pulling off his shirt and quickly replacing it with his ratty sleep shirt.

"Just because you're in love with me doesn't mean you have to give up your comfort at my parents house," I reply, laying down and putting my arms behind my head.

"I never said I was in love with you," he says, quietly. He steps over my small frame, sitting on the bed with his feet on my knees. "You'll never get out!" he cries in a silly voice.

"Only if I do this!" I giggle, tickling his socked feet. He kicks his feet for a minute, tossing his hair wildly. 

"I surrender, I surrender!" he screeches, laying back on the mattress. He's slightly too tall, so his head stays propped up on the pale yellow wall. "Tilly..." he trails off.

"Yeah, Justin?" I ask, hoping he won't push the 'he's in love with me' topic.

"Tilly," he sighs. "I've started thinking about some stuff. And I was thinking about how we've been friends forever, and, well, Tilly, I like you."

"I like you, too, Justin," I sigh. "But I like you as a buddy, and I like Lyle as a boyfriend."

"I thought you'd say that," he sighs, pulling his feet up on the bed.

"Besides," I say, sitting up and patting his feet, "you like Katherine, right?"

"Katherine broke up with me, Tilly," he whispers, touching the part of his hair that hangs in his face.

"See? You're just attaching yourself to me in your time of need, Justin. You don't really love me, you just need a, a female influence in your life right now," I attempt to convince him. "And we're really close an-"

"Tilly!" he sighs, leaning forward. "If I wanted a 'feminine influence', I would talk to your mom. Not you."

Suddenly, I feel something click inside me. I remember all the pranks we pulled in high school, all the times Justin was there for me when a boy hurt me, all the times Justin proved he loved me. Suddenly, I see Justin in a different light.

"Tilly, I get it," he says, starting to sit back again. "You just do-" On impulse, I stand on my knees and softly place my lips against Justin's. My hands snake their way into his long, thick hair, twirling the strands around my fingers. He parts his lips, and his tongue plays with mine, dancing for a minute. I sit back on my feet, and Justin stares at me, his mouth gaping. "I-Uh- Whoa," he stutters.

I feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, and I look at the ground. "Er, sorry," I murmur. 

"You're apologizing for something I've been desperate for weeks, you know," he smirks, laying down facing me. He quickly pecks my lips again. "Now, would you be a dear and turn off the light?"

"Oh, sure thing, Buddy," I whisper, crossing the cold floor to flick the switch. "You're so lazy sometimes."

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

"Goodbye, Mom!" I call, sticking my head out the window as Justin pulls out of their driveway. "Goodbye, Dad!"

"Goodbye, Matilda!" my dad bellows. 

"Goodbye, Honey!" my mother yells. "I'll send you a box of goodies soon!"

I wave one last time before rolling up my window and sitting back. "Justin," I say, quietly. "Did you know I'm getting a box of goodies in the mail?"

"Hmm," he feigns thinking. "I think I heard that somewhere. I can't exactly place where, though."

I wink, looking out the window. Justin gently grasps my hand as my parents house fades into the distance. Eventually, I fall asleep, only to wake when we jerk to a stop in the parking lot of the dorms.

It was a fantastic nap.