I finally set down the pen and just look for a moment. One hundred seventy-five thousand two hundred ninety-something words. I stopped counting. I don’t know if that is actually correct, and I don’t actually care. It is done, and I really mean done. Finished in a way that I didn’t think I could do. The ink is still slightly wet, and I could change it still, but I won’t. I won’t because it’s done.
I glance up, outside. The golden sunlight filters in and lands gently on my desk, on my manuscript. That warm, tingly thing creeps over me. The kind of feeling after you have watched a really good movie. The one where the main character got everything they wanted, and more.
That’s what happened for Michael. Not much of a fantasy name, I suppose. Not much of a fantasy book if I’m being honest. It is kinda plain. Still full of magic and mythical beasts, but the parts that I like most are the parts between those parts. The quiet parts. My favorite is where Michael and Yuli just sit in the cave, hidden from the storm. They just sit, rain-soaked, and watch as lightning streaks across the sky. They have places to be, sure. The goblet is in the hands of the protagonist, but, just for that moment, they sit. They don’t move. They sit and watch and watch and watch. Neither of them moves because neither of them has to.
I think I have done the same thing. For the longest time, I think I was choosing to move, just to move. Or perhaps I was moving so that I could wait to move.
Golden Oaks has been quiet. Nice little community to live in. You might think that something like that would bother me. The quiet, that is. It used to. But it doesn’t anymore, and I’m strangely okay with that. I take long walks in the afternoons and read in the mornings.
Am I the CEO I imagined? No. But maybe that’s a good thing, actually. The high school debate team didn’t exist before I got here. The only school in the area that didn’t have one. The circuit is different. The students are different. But I wouldn’t trade them for anything. They are annoying sometimes, sure, but that’s just the constant of working with high schoolers. And it’s kind of comforting that you can move and have something remain the same.
My phone starts buzzing. I look at it and smile. It’s Priya. I love when she calls. It isn’t as often as I’d like, but maybe I should take the same initiative she does and reach out.
“Priya!” I nearly scream as I slide my thumb across the phone. I’m sure she only heard ‘iya,’ but the second half of the word is better than the first.
“Avery, maybe don’t blast out my eardrum when you answer the phone, okay? I will stop calling if you keep doing that.” I can hear her walking somewhere. There is laughter in the background and music playing. A tune I’ve never heard, but one that sounds like joy bursting at the seams. One with a beat that you could nearly skip to.
“We both know you won’t stop calling.” She sighs.
“Dammit, you’re right. You’ve got ahold of me, and I love that about you.” She moves the phone from her face and says something I can’t hear. Probably something to her brother or something. Not sure. “How’s the team? You finally figure out what the admin wanted with that math class?”
“Team’s good. Admin’s annoying. So, no, I haven’t figured it out. I’m doing them a favor by covering for this teacher, and somehow they want me to teach the class, but they don’t want me to work extra by creating lesson plans.” I shake my head and smile. You can’t really screw up math. It’s just numbers, and teaching a ninth grader numbers is always the same, but they deserve a good plan. I appreciate their emphasis on work-life balance, but work doesn’t work if you don’t do it.
“Bet you’re missing Mateo right about now, huh?”
“Mateo would have done the same thing and probably would’ve made a bad pun while doing it. So, maybe I should be grateful that there are no puns involved.” I stand up and turn around. The sunlight casts its glow across the wood floor, causing the whole room to glow. My eye catches on the picture of the group on the trip to New Port. We were younger then. Stupid in a lot of ways. But, hey, we all turned out pretty okay. I wish I could show the Avery from back then what I see now. I wish she could look through that glass at me and see what’s coming for her. Maybe she would hate it. She might try to calculate the statistical probability of it actually happening. I would just smile back. Because that’s all she’d accept.
“I heard that, Avery!” Mateo’s voice booms through the phone. Priya giggles.
“Shit! Priya, the grand Mateo visit is this weekend?” I smack my own head. We all have been doing rotations visiting each other. Six crossing paths is hard to coordinate. Lila still owns the spreadsheet, but we all pitch in. Of course, Lila owns the spreadsheet. Funnily enough, I think she checks it the least. I had to remind her I was coming into town five months ago. It’s not because she’s busy—the opposite, actually. She’s mostly traveling the world with Ryan and Chris.
I hated Chris at first. But I think I’d hate anyone for Lila. She always deserves more. So, when you have an equation where x is always one more than its current value, you end up with a limit of infinity. Which means Chris had to be that infinity. But Chris was just Chris. He has grown on me. He never will be infinity, but I guess he’s close enough.
He’s good to her. He’s good to Ryan. And that’s enough.
“Oh, this is Mateo’s weekend, is it?” Sloane’s voice is next.
“How the hell did you get there, Sloane?” I shake my head as I walk closer to the New Port picture on the wall. It feels different. I’m not sure if I can put my finger on it, but it feels lighter. Like someone added sunlight to it.
“A plane, Avery. I got here by plane.”
“Stop being a smart-ass.”
“I had some extra PTO.” Sloane is smiling. I can’t see it, but I can hear the smile in the way her words are strained against the corners of her mouth.
“You don’t get PTO when you’re the boss,” Mateo cuts in again.
“As I was saying, I had extra PTO, so I decided to fly out with Mat to make it a Mat and Sloane weekend.” Pink nails. Sloane has her nails painted pink. I don’t see it, but I know it.
“Oh, this is Mat and Sloane’s weekend?” Violet’s voice cuts in.
I hated Violet at first. But I think I’d…
Same thing. Sloane deserves the universe. She got Violet. But I think that Violet is exactly who she needed. That’s why her nails are pink. Violet’s favorite color, ironically.
“Okay, so you have a whole crew there. What’s your plan?” I ask. I can hear the waves on the shore in the background. They mix with the music and move in and out. Not on a timer, but on a rhythm. The one you skip to, but maybe slower now.
“We have a whole crew, but not the whole crew.” Priya finally has the phone back in her hand. After a fight with Violet, I imagine.
“I know. Wouldn’t it be nice if—”
“Your plane takes off at six forty-three tonight. Can’t wait to see you!” Priya nearly squeals through the phone. I have half a mind to tell her the same thing about the eardrums. Tonight? I glance back at the manuscript on my desk. Something tells me I should decline, that the manuscript needs me more than they do. I open my mouth to say something, but other words come out. The truer words. The ones that I don’t count.
“Sounds like the hubby and I will be there by morning, then.” Sloane’s infectious smile blasts through the phone and lands on my face.
“We’ll pick you up. I’ll send the details.” She tells me the others’ landing times. I don’t really hear it. I turn towards the window and look outside. The green grass is freshly cut. Spring has come and gone, and early summer has finally sunk in. The sun is warm on my face and blinding. I could squint or turn away. I don’t. I just close my eyes and feel the sun on my face. Not burning sunlight, but the gentle kind that says I’ve made it.
I finish up the conversation with Priya. I’ve got the details I need. I soak in the sun for a moment longer before I turn around.
“Honey, we’ve got a flight to catch.”