Buzzed Hearts

11: any more sauce?

IT'S LATE WHEN Camila gets home from her recital. Jeremy drives her back because he wanted to attend (as in, get out of his mom's nagging).

    "Hey, can we get some fries?" she asks. "My parents won't mind."

    "But I do," Jeremy says.

    "Please?"

    "Alright. But if my coach yells at me tomorrow you're banned from shotgun."

    "Fair."

    So he makes a detour and heads to Five Guys, windows down as they cruise. After getting Jeremy's order, Camila runs in with a few bills in her hands and returns five minutes later with two paper bags. They eat sitting on the sidewalk curb, a faint sheen of sweat shining across their cheekbones.

    "My mom's in her third trimester and I get to name the baby," Camila says.

    "Big responsibility. You should name him after me."

    "Isn't it weird though? The age gap? He'll be eighteen years younger than me. I won't be around for most of his birthdays if college gets busy."

    "Nah. From what I've learned, sibling bonds usually come when you've both matured."

    "I'm guessing that you don't have a bond with Jericho then," she says.

    "What?" he asks.

    "Since you're so—"

    "Don't say it."

    "—immature."

    "Goddamn. I take you to Five Guys and pay for your fries because your stage dress doesn't have pockets and you insult me."

    "Sorry. But you bum out at my house all the time so we're kinda even."

    Jeremy rolls his eyes but nods in defeat. "Hey, do you have any more sauce?"

    "Here."

    It's an odd thing to like but Camila doesn't mind the chewing noises other people make. It comforts her on most days and it fills the silence well. After a few more minutes, Jeremy finishes his burger, burps in her face, and picks up the trash.

    "I'm going to have to work that one off," he sighs contently, hand running across his stomach.

    "You're perfect the way you are," she says.

    "Shut up."

    "You are."

    "Whatever."

    He drops her off and still in her black dress, Camila crouches near her front door to find the spare key. She doesn't locate it at all, but that's fine because the doorstep light turns on and her father opens the door.

    "Good morning, dad," she says.

    Robert Bean doesn't crack a smile in his matching pajama set and tells her to go to bed because she's got school tomorrow. On any normal night, Robert would wake the neighbors with his berating but since she's graduating soon, her dad's been quite lenient. They climb the stairs together and Camila tells him about what she performed and how she felt and he yawns as he says goodnight at the door of her bedroom.

    She takes off her dress and throws it in the laundry basket. Finding it lonely, Camila puts on Chopin and proceeds to brush her teeth and wash her face. It's only when she has concerts that she wears makeup but she likes the look of it—she just doesn't have time most days to put on eyeliner.

    Vanilla nuzzles against her ankles and she puts her back in her cage before she climbs onto bed.