The ride back was silent. I stared resolutely out the window, heels perched in my lap. I assumed, and hoped Gavin was doing the same. Though the sound of his breath was more than enough to keep my mind spinning and my heart thumping loudly in my ears until we exited the car and I was back in my beloved Honda Civic with Avril Lavigne bumping through the speakers. I couldn't help but peek behind me as Gavin disappeared from my view.

I wondered if his truck was still the same inside.

If he still had the absurd pink fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror, and it still smelled vaguely of peppermint from the copious amounts of gum he chewed. Wrigley's DOUBLEMINT. He kept a never-ending supply in the glove box. At least, he used to.

I wondered if he still refused to let anyone touch the speakers. Except for me, of course. I would not have survived solely listening to Ed Sheeran, the White Stripes, and the Smashing Pumpkins. I called it his 'sad man music'. Which he pretended to hate. Just like he pretended to hate it when I assumed control of the aux cord and played my music. Which included but was not limited to: Avril Lavigne, Gracie Abrams, Noah Kahan, and Lorde.

He drove me everywhere. Got his license first, because of the whole being born three months before me thing, but even after I got mine I preferred to sit in the passenger seat, queuing up music to make him groan. I spent so much time in his car that I had a blanket in the back in case I got cold, since he pumped the AC like a maniac. Gavin got it for me. It was purple and soft and perfect.

I wondered if he'd taken it out.

I wondered if he'd listened to any music but his own since I'd gone.

My stomach turned over at the thought of someone else in his car. Had he let them play their music? But then I remembered I wasn't supposed to be thinking about that, nor was I allowed to have any sort of feelings about Gavin one way or the other. I turned into my driveway reminding myself of this important rule. I removed my key from the ignition, a sudden weight settling over me.

The task of getting out of this car and entering my home felt insurmountable. I just wanted to lay down in my room, and pull the covers over my head, and not come out until it was time for our flight home. I didn't want to sit at the table while my mom put me through the Spanish Inquisition about the passing of the crowns and I pretended not to notice her psychoanalyzing my facial expressions when I said Gavin's name, and she pretended like it was normal that I had a new boyfriend. I didn't want to explain anything to Axel. I didn't want to awkwardly introduce him to anyone. I didn't want to skulk around town actively avoiding Gavin. I didn't want to keep thinking about him. And most of all, I didn't want to miss him.

Because I did. But I couldn't. I couldn't.

It was easier to forget when I wasn't here.

I was just tired.

I let out a large sigh, and set my blistered feet on the driveway. The pavement was cool and vaguely dirty, and I made sure to wipe my feet before I crossed over my threshold. My mother was sitting in the breakfast nook, pointedly turning a page of her book as if she hadn't been peering through the curtains waiting for me to get home.

I flopped down on the couch with a huff, staring at the ceiling. My stomach growled.

"Is that you Jujubee?" she sang innocently. As if she didn't know. "Are you back?"

I rolled my eyes, "I'm in here, Mom."

"Goodness," she exclaimed, "I didn't even hear you get home, I was so invested in my book."

"Uh huh," I muttered, hearing her footsteps. I mentally prepared myself for the conversation that was about to ensue. I felt the urge to smother myself with a couch cushion.

"Axel's up in your room, if you want to go say hi," she informed me, gesturing aimlessly up the stairs. I considered my two options: stay here and have an agonizing conversation, or go up there and have an equally agonizing conversation. Then I frowned. My room?

"He's not staying in the guest room?" I asked, eyes wide with confusion. Was she trying to be funny?

"Not unless you want him to," she laughed lightly. The furrow in my brow deepened exponentially.

I blinked at her, "I just assumed–"

My mother shrugged, as if it was all very inconsequential and quotidian to her. "You're an adult now, and I am under no illusions that the two of you are celibate." I could have choked.

"Mom," I hissed, ears burning.

"I've been to college, Julia," she said, with a pointed raised of her eyebrows. "Besides, sex isn't as taboo as it was when I was your age. I'm trying to be enlightened about it."

"Enlightened," I snorted, "You and Lou wanted to eradicate doors from existence when Gavin and I were–" The words stuck, stopped, and I broke off, mouth going dry. My mother looked away, probably thinking about the countless days over the past four years when she and Lou would loudly yell up the stairs to remind us how "an open door prevents one more". I shut my eyes, flooded with memories of stolen moments in our old treehouse in the field, Gavin scaling drainpipes and tiptoeing up the stairs with as much subtlety as an elephant in tap shoes, under covers and stars, and on the roof, and in the rain, and Gavin–

"Yes, well..." she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "that was a different situation, wasn't it?" We both fell silent, as we always did when the topic of Gavin came up. I was her daughter. She was on my side. Because of course she was. Because we always supported each other. The Gordon women against the world. It was how it had been since the day I was born.

But.

But she loved Gavin. She loved Gavin like Lou loved me– or had loved me, I supposed, before I ruined everything. I know my mother didn't think that way, or didn't want to think that way, and therefore chose not to. Hence us definitively not talking about anything Gavin or Lou related since May. We skated around it, carefully, pretending it wasn't there. Pretending she thought it was normal that I broke up with the only boy I'd ever loved. Pretending she didn't want to know why I'd done it. Pretending like it didn't bother us.

Well, I was sick of pretending.

"Just ask, Mom," I sighed, sinking into the couch. "We both know you want to." I waited as she hemmed and hawed, before finally sitting down in the armchair, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

"I just– I heard that he was there." He.

"You can say his name, Mom. I'm not going to explode if you say his name."

"So he– Gavin was there, then?" she corrected herself hastily.

"As if you didn't already know," I scoffed. The second I saw Gavin's face I'd been certain my mom had concocted this whole plot just to force us to interact. To force me to confront my choices.

"I didn't!" she exclaimed. "Not when I called. I only found out after you'd landed– and then, well, you were already here...and we– I figured it could be healthy for you and Gav to see each other again." So she and Lou had been discussing the two of us. Figured. "For closure purposes. Since it ended so...abruptly..." she trailed off, looking away from me again. Abruptly. That was one way to put it.

This was the closest we'd gotten to the issue since the break-up. It felt dangerous.

"Well, we definitely saw each other," I muttered grimly. There was a beat of silence.

Then, "Axel seems nice, honey," my mom murmured, patting my arm. "I'm glad you brought him home."

I closed my eyes, "Yeah."

"Don't sound too excited now."

"Sorry," I shook my head wearily, "just tired."

My mother squeezed my hand comfortingly, rising, "Okay, Jujubee. You get some rest. If you're feeling up to it, you and Axel can meet me at Gordon's later."

"Sounds like a plan," I yawned.

"If you need anything, call," she said over her shoulder, wrapping her cardigan tightly around her. "I'm getting coffee with a friend before I head in to work."

I groaned, "Mom we just talked about this. Just say you're going over to Lou's. I broke up with Gavin, not you. Nothing has to change." Except that everything had. And I'd known it would. How could it not?

"I'll tell her you say hi," she said, as the door closed behind her.

I clambered up the stairs to my bedroom, anxious to shed the satin that felt tighter with each passing second. I let my hair out, sending red coils tumbling down my shoulders as I turned the knob to my bedroom door. My head ached from the pins I'd shoved in there hours ago, an attempt to stave off the Gavin of it all. He liked my hair down and wild, curls free for him to tug and run his hands through. I shivered at the thought.

"Hey there, Pretty in Pink," greeted Axel. And although I'd known he was there, it was still jarring having him in my room. Sitting on my flowered bedspread amongst my stuffed animals and sequined throw pillows that I'd had since twelve and hadn't had the heart to get rid of. No boy had ever been in my room except for– fuck– I had to stop doing that.

Axel stretched his arms over his head, looking, per usual, slightly rumpled, as though he'd just woken up from a nap. It worked for him. The whole vaguely unshaven, scruffy soulful thing. The tattoos helped, of course. They mapped the expanse of his arms, and scattered across his back and chest. My favorite was the compass on his right shoulder. His jacket was draped over my fluffy desk chair.

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes good naturedly, bending to give him a kiss.

"What?" Axel chuckled, shrugging, "Molly Ringwald's super hot." He dropped a kiss on my neck, "And so are you."

"As hot as Molly Ringwald?"

"Well.." he wavered mischievously. I squinted at him. And he raised his hands in surrender. "It's not even close, babe."

"Good answer," I set my sash on the dresser.

"Speaking of hot," he said, settling back onto my bed as though he'd done it a thousand times, "why don't you wear heels more often?"

"Oh, you liked the heels?"

"Very much so," Axel grinned, taking my hand and pulling me down next to him.

"Unfortunately they needed to come off," I informed him wryly, trying not to think about Gavin. Your feet hurt, don't they? I curled my toes inward until I could feel the sharp pain of the blisters beginning to form, and I couldn't feel Gavin's hand in mine. "Much like this dress."

"I think I can help with that," Axel whispered, tracing kisses across my collarbone as he fingered the delicate straps of the pink slip. I leaned into his body, gripping the grey of his t-shirt that was so thin it was practically disintegrating.

I giggled softly, "Can you, now?"

Axel's hands explored slowly, sweeping across my neck, then my back, then to the sides of my legs, right beneath the hem of my dress. He made a soft little noise when he hit bare skin, and I pulled him closer, body flushing.

"You smell nice," he murmured into my neck, kissing me there. I pulled my hands through his hair and inhaled. He smelled nice too, fresh shampoo and only the faintest whiff of the cigarettes I knew he smoked, but pretended he didn't. I tried to capture his bottom lip as his arms drew me closer. My brain fizzed. All other thoughts slipped away as his hands wandered farther, now slipping under my shirt to touch my bare back. It made my spine tingle pleasantly.

"We have to meet my mom soon," I told him. I should be resting, changing, mentally preparing to face the melee at Gordon's instead of making out with Axel. But I hated thinking about going into Gordon's without– and the thought of seeing Lou made me physically ill. And I liked kissing Axel. I liked the way his hands settled on my hips. And the way his lips smiled against mine. He was good at it. Well practiced.

And I liked that kissing Axel was easy. It stopped me thinking about Gavin. Usually. It's easy with him, even if we didn't have much common ground. Our conversations never found footholds outside of Berkeley life. We've already run the gamut of family talk. His mom was an ER nurse, and his dad was a paramedic. They're both chronically busy, but very much in love. HIghschool sweethearts, he'd told me. He'd be leaving Lovingston on Wednesday to spend Thanksgiving with his dad in Oakland. His mother was working.

My back hit the mattress and his hand ran up the length on my thigh, higher, higher–

"Axel," I breathed, putting a hand on his chest. "We can't– not here–" my protests were lost to another kiss, "I'm serious." I sat up, composing myself slightly. "Not in my childhood bed," I said, reminding him of where we were. I gestured at the stuffed turtle perched on my pillow, "Mr. Seaweed is watching."

"I'll cover his eyes, then," Axel retorted. "Also– he's a stuffed animal." He leaned in to kiss me again, but I pressed a firm finger to his lips.

"It's too weird," I declared, standing. "Besides, I should change."

He groaned, "C'mon, babe, you're telling me you've never hooked up in here?" He collapsed back onto my bed, attempting to cool himself down. "Not even your highschool boyfriend? You two seemed pretty serious."

I snapped to attention, "What?" I blanched, "How did you–?"

Axel's gaze strayed over to my desk, and my eyes followed his to the gold embossed picture frame. Inside was a photo of Gavin and I last year as Homecoming King and Queen. I swallowed, hard.

"You saw him today, right?" Axel asked. "Royal duties and whatnot."

I nodded lamely, unable to do much but blink and breathe. "Sorry," I stammered out, flustered. I snatched the picture off of my desk and shoved it into a drawer. "I didn't know my mom kept that out– I should've told you– I didn't know he was—"

"Whoa," Axel cut off my word vomit with a calm wave of his hand. "You don't owe me anything, Julia. I don't give a crap about your ex. It's not like either of us are new at this." I knew he wasn't. Axel was experienced, and it showed. I knew there were probably countless girls before me, and he was right, I didn't care. And neither did he.

"Right," I ran a hand through my hair, considering my reflection. "Well, if you have any questions..." I gritted my teeth, hoping he wouldn't. He probably wouldn't. We didn't talk things through like that.

"Just one."

I gulped, steeling myself.

"Did he also wear a sash?" Axel smirked. I was so relieved I laughed out loud. "Follow up," he continued, dodging the flying sock I sent hurtling his way, "Can you wear the sash to dinner?"

And for a moment, things were easy.

IM BACK BITCHES

hopefully for long but like knowing me...

anyways please comment because otherwise im sad

MUAH

what do we think of axel?

-colleen