𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐨𝐧𝐞

i'll pretend bein' with you
doesn't feel like drowning...
even though we know
it isn't true...
-boygenius

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

April, 2000

Tennessee J. Walsh wasn't actually born in Tennessee. He grew up forty miles south of the border, in a Mississippi river-town. He lived with his mother in a one-bedroom house that flooded every time the river swelled.

I lived two doors down, kind of like I do now.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The Mississippi heat is relentless.

The doors are open on both sides of Pittman, but still, the humidity remains. My clothes cling to my skin. I lean against the door frame of my new room.

"Alright, feet to feet or..." Frankie shoves a twin sized bed across the hardwood floor. "Nose to nose?" she asks. Her hair is piled onto her head, but unruly curls fall in front of her eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"Feet to feet," I answer. "I don't want a face full of your morning breath."

"Ha-ha, Violet, aren't you funny?" She runs a hand over her forehead and gets back to work, rearranging furniture and placing fresh sheets over each bed. I learned from last year that it's better to watch from the sidelines. Frankie has a particular way of doing things.

There is a knock on the door beside my head.

I turn to see Dalton, smiling down at me with sparkly blue eyes. He snakes a hand around my waist and kisses me. I fold into his side.

"Ugh, get a room, you two."

He laughs. "The place is looking great, Frank."

"It really is, Frankie," I add. "You deserve a break; my treat."

Dalton hugs my waist. "I was just talking to Khalil, and we thought we'd head down to Tipper's to grab a bite to eat. You all in?"

Frankie groans. "I don't even want to hear that name."

"Oh, come on, Frankie," I say. "I thought you were over all of that. It's going to be a long year if you two can't get along. We can't avoid him forever."

"Maybe you can't."

I look to Dalton, pleading for back-up. "He feels really bad for how things ended," he offers. "And besides, we're living right down the hall this year. Do you really want things to be awkward all semester?"

"Fine by me." Frankie brushes a curl from her face. "And why would I feel awkward? He's the one who fucked up."

I sigh. And then I lock my hands together and shake them in front of my face. "Please, please, please, Frankie! Oh, say you'll come with us. I can't face that summer heat out there, without you! Please, Frankie, please, please—"